“No, sah, I ain't been in de orchard. I were sleepin' in mah shack, till jest a few minutes ago, when I got up, an' went in t' see Boomerang. I had a dream dat some coon were tryin t' steal him, an' it sort ob 'sturbed me, laik.”
“If it wasn't your man, it was some one else,” said Mr. Jenks, decidedly.
“We'll have a look!” exclaimed Tom. “Here, Rad, come over and scurry among those trees. We just saw some one sneaking around.”
“I'll sure do dat!” cried the colored man. “Mebby it were somebody arter Boomerang! I'll find 'em.”
“I don't believe it was any one after the mule,” murmured Mr. Jenks, “but it certainly was some one—more likely some one after me.”
The three made a hasty search among the trees, but the intruder had vanished, leaving no trace. They went out into the road, which the moon threw into bold relief along its white stretch, but there was no figure scurrying away.
“Whoever it was, is gone,” spoke Tom. “You can go back to bed, Rad,” for the colored man, of late, had been sleeping in a shack on the Swift premises.
“And I guess it's time for me to go, too,” added Mr. Jenks. “I'll be here to-morrow night, Tom, and I hope your answer will be favorable.”
Tom did not sleep well the remainder of the night, for his fitful slumbers were disturbed by dreams of enormous caves, filled with diamonds, with dark, shadowy figures trying to put him into a red-hot steel box. Once he awakened with a start, and put his hand under his pillow to feel if the two stones Mr. Jenks had given him, were still there. They had not been disturbed.
Tom made up his mind to find out if the stones were really diamonds, before saying anything to his father about the chance of going to seek Phantom Mountain. And the young inventor wished to get the opinion of some other jeweler than Mr. Track—at least, at first.