“There may be a spy and traitor among us,” declared Tom. “I doubt that. But there is some way for my enemies to gain entrance to the plant that I can’t discover. Now I want you to go over the place. Look for a secret means of entering. Look for hidden wires that may connect with planted mines. In short, go over the plant with a fine toothed comb and let me know what you find.” “That’s what we’ll do, Mr. Swift!” came the reassuring chorus. “And if we find any of the scoundrels we’ll string ’em up!” yelled one enthusiastic and indignant workman. “No, don’t do anything rash or unlawful!” warned the young inventor. “Make any intruder you catch a prisoner and bring him to me.” The men scattered to make a thorough search, and then Tom went into his private laboratory where his father and Ned had preceded him. He wanted to talk the situation over with them. “What do you think, Dad?” asked Tom, when he had related to his parent the latest attempt. “Well,” was the careful answer, “to me it looks like a deep-laid plot against you. They don’t want you to put these talking pictures on the market.” “But how is it their business?” asked Ned. “I mean the business of whoever is doing these tricks.” “It concerns them vitally,” replied Mr. Swift. “Why, just think what it would mean if a whole theatrical performance could be thrown on the screen in private homes!” “That’s what I’m going to make possible!” declared the young inventor. “Those who buy my machine will not only hear but, on the screen attached to the apparatus, they will see the performers!” “It may mean ruin to many regular theaters and moving picture houses, Tom,” warned Mr. Swift. “Those people have millions of dollars invested in their projects. They evidently mean business,” and he tapped the warning letter Eradicate had received. “Yes, they mean business; but so do I!” cried Tom in a ringing voice. “The question is who means the most business. You don’t want me to quit, do you, Dad?” “No, Tom, I can’t say I do. Yet I want you to be careful.” “What’s your idea, Ned? Should I knuckle under to these scoundrels and tell them I’ll throw overboard the machine I’ve been working on so hard for the last year? Shall I admit I’m beaten?” For a moment Ned Newton did not answer. Then something of Tom’s ringing spirit was communicated and, banging his fist on the table with such force that he knocked over a rack of test tubes, the manager cried: “No, Tom! We’ll fight ’em to a finish!” “I thought you’d say that,” was Tom’s quiet comment. “And you can count on me,” said Mr. Swift, “though I’m not much good when it comes to a fight.” “Oh, I’ve got men enough to fight for me physically,” said Tom. “What I need is moral backing, and now that I have it I’m going ahead. I’ve been trying to fight this thing too much in the dark. From now on I’ll use not only my own men, but also the regular police force of Shopton. Ned, get the chief on the wire!”