A quick inspection on the part of Tom proved the truth of this. A bomb had been concealed in the rubbish, and, had it gone off, it very likely would have wrecked the Osprey, and, possibly, have injured or killed those in the car.
“But I couldn’t do it,” confessed Kenny. “I had it all ready to plant and was going to set the time fuse when I weakened.”
“Why did you do that?” asked Tom, still suspicious.
“To tell you the truth, it was because I couldn’t bear to wreck such a fine machine as you have made,” Kenny admitted, and there was a bit of pride in his voice and look. “I’m a good mechanic,” he went on. “You found that out in the shop before I was discharged, didn’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, you were an expert in your line,” admitted Tom.
“Well, I got in bad company—maybe that’s how you can account for it,” proceeded Kenny. “I’m not defending myself—but I got in wrong and bad. You did right to fire me—but then I wanted my revenge. I was in the crowd that saw you come down to-day,” he told Tom. “The gang sent me on here to finish the job which they couldn’t do in Shopton because you were too well guarded. They figured it would be easier here, and it was. I didn’t have much trouble hiding that bomb.
“But when I saw you come sailing in and knew you had almost done the journey as you said you’d do it—in sixteen hours—I just didn’t have the heart to destroy the machine. It would be like a man running his pet auto into a stone wall deliberately. I didn’t have the heart. You needn’t believe me, but that’s the truth.”
“I do believe you—in that, at least,” Tom said. Being a mechanic himself he could understand another workman’s love for a wonderful piece of machinery. “But that doesn’t let you out, Kenny,” said Tom sternly.
“I know it doesn’t, Mr. Swift. I’m not asking to be let off. I’m better in jail as it is. I don’t want those fellows to get me, for they’ll know I double-crossed ’em. Lock me up—that’s all I ask. I’m down and out!”
He really seemed so, and was as honest as he could be under the circumstances. Strange as it may appear, his love for machinery in the abstract, his delight in a perfect piece of work, had overcome his promise to his confederates. Tom believed this much of his story.