Neither the young inventor nor any one else around the shop, including Mr. Jackson, knew. The two men, one of whom looked like a rat, had appeared at the main gate early that morning, it was learned on checking up. They presented an order signed, apparently, by Tom Swift, authorizing them to come in. It was a rule that any but the regular workmen must have such an order to gain entrance to the plant. But this order was forged.
So the two got in and falsely stating that they had come from the Detroit plant of the concern which had made Tom's new motor, they gained access to the shop where it had been left by a truck from the freight office.
Had it not been that Mr. Jackson saw the men at work and wondered enough about them to tell Tom, they might have carried out their plans, whatever they were. That the plans were based on an intent to work Tom Swift or his possessions some injury, could not be doubted.
A hasty survey, however, showed that the motor had not been taken from its case, so it was not damaged.
"What was the game, Tom?" asked Ned, when orders had been given to admit no more strangers to the plant on any pretext.
"Well, I'll say Cunningham, as a guess."
"You mean he put these men up to wrecking your motor after you turned him down?"
"That's the way it looks to me, Ned. Of course it may have been some of my other enemies. But since you recognized the rat-faced chap, why, it looks suspicious to me."
"But what would be Cunningham's object? He didn't want you to make him a House on Wheels, did he? Or sell him any stock in the enterprise of manufacturing them?"
"No, he didn't mention the matter. I didn't even know that he knew I had such a thing in mind, much less almost completed."