“How well you size me up,” laughed Tom. “I guess after this I’ll have to leave you to your old figures while I sneak out alone. But here we are at the plant. I’ll drop you and Jackson here while I mosey along toward the house. I want to get a bath and slip into some clean clothes. I sure look like a hobo.”
“You haven’t anything on us,” replied Ned, as he looked somewhat ruefully at his torn and rumpled clothes and his scratched hands, due to their scramble through the branches. “But after all,” he added, “it’s a cheap price to pay for having saved that poor fellow’s life.”
Tom drove the roadster into its garage and then made his way over to his house. This was only a little distance away, as the plant had grown up around the old homestead. For that reason, it was not the most desirable location in the world, but it had associations connected with it that were precious and made Tom and his father reluctant to abandon it. In the summer they had a pleasant little cottage some distance away where they spent much of their time, but for the greater part of the year they lived in the old homestead. One great thing in its favor was its proximity to the plant, where Tom often worked until late in the night when he was engrossed with a new invention. Tom’s mother was dead and the household was presided over by Mrs. Baggert, a motherly, efficient woman, who handled all the help and kept the home in perfect shape.
As Tom approached the gate, two figures came hurrying forward to greet him. One was a giant of a man, who had been brought home from the jungles by Tom on one of his expeditions abroad and who had become devotedly attached to him. His strength was enormous and had frequently stood Tom in good stead in moments of peril. His native name had been Koku, and this had been retained for want of a better. His English was imperfect, though he could understand anything that was said to him.
Hobbling close behind him, and holding on to his arm so that the giant should not be the first to reach Tom, was an old negro who had been in the household for years as a man of all work. His name, of which he was inordinately proud because of its mouth-filling qualities, was Eradicate Sampson, which was usually shortened by others to Rad. Tom was his idol, and the old man would have died for him.
Rad had not been at all pleased at first when Koku was brought to the old homestead. He feared that the giant might supplant him in the affections of his young master. But gradually this feeling had worn away, and he and the good-natured giant had become close friends, although there was a constant rivalry between them as to who should serve Tom most and best.
“Doan you be in such a hurry, yo’ slamdacious ole hunk o’ beef,” panted Rad. “Ah saw him fust an’ it’s mah place to tell ’im. Marse Tom, they’s——”
“Men to see you,” bellowed Koku, getting the message out first.
Rad glared at him and was about to emit some withering blast when he caught sight of Tom’s scratched face and torn clothes.
“Wha’s matter, Marse Tom?” he ejaculated. “Been in fight or smash-up?”