“It’s fair enough, and you know it!” declared Tom. “The only contract you had was that I said I’d keep you as long as your work was satisfactory. Well, it isn’t. It’s far from satisfactory.” “You mean on that magnetic gear shift? I can show you, Mr. Swift, that——” “No, it isn’t the gear shift. I’m going to drop that. It’s your own private work of trying to sneak in and fathom my secrets. That’s all. You are through. Get your time and clear out! Mr. Jackson was right in his surmise.” “Oh, so Jackson has been talking about me, has he?” “I’m not answering any of your questions,” retorted Tom. “The sooner you leave the premises the better. And don’t come back!” For a moment Greenbaum stood looking squarely at Tom Swift whose eyes never faltered under the gaze of the angry man. Then Greenbaum asked with great deliberation: “Is that your last word, Mr. Swift?” “Yes.” “Well, all I’ve got to say is that maybe you’ll be sorry for this some day! Maybe you’ll be sorry!” There was a distinct threat in Greenbaum’s words. “What do you mean?” cried Tom in anger starting from his chair. “How dare you threaten me?” Greenbaum made no answer, but turned and went out of the office. Tom was about to follow, for he did not want the fellow to think he could thus defy him, when the telephone on the desk rang out sharply. CHAPTER XIII MR. DAMON DANCES “HELLO! Hello!” the young inventor called into the transmitter. “What is it?” He did not recognize the voice at first, but the speaker soon identified himself as Joe Corrigan, the officer in charge of the squad of men who had gone to Rattlesnake Island in an endeavor to apprehend the three men. “But they had flew the coop, Mr. Swift,” reported Joe Corrigan. “Not hide nor hair of ’em on the place.” “Did you find the house?” “Oh, sure! And we saw where you and Mr. Newton broke out. But the men must have skipped right after they found you had got away.” “I suppose so. What about their boat?” “No trace of that, either. I’m sorry we didn’t get ’em!” “I hardly thought you would—it was just a chance,” Tom retorted. “But we’re not going to give up,” declared Corrigan. “We’ll catch ’em yet!” Tom had his doubts on this subject, but he did not express them. “Wish you lots of luck!” he called over the wire. He was sure, however, that Snogg, Janner and Torpy were but the tools in the hands of more powerful men, men who would keep themselves well hidden, and that though the ruffians might be apprehended in time, little or nothing would be learned from them. They would take the blame and say nothing of the men who had hired them, probably being well paid for any punishment they might suffer. “Well, so much for that,” said Tom when he had ruminated over what Corrigan had reported. “Now about Greenbaum. That’s more serious. I can’t let him get away with threatening me like that.”