THE MEETING
Disappointment would have been in store for Tom Swift and his close associates if they had expected any immediate results from the insertion of the anonymous advertisement. Ned Newton went to the designated box in the newspaper office several times following the printing of the cunningly worded request for an interview with the unknown scoundrels, but there were no letters addressed to Mr. Quick.
“I’m afraid it isn’t going to work, Tom,” remarked Ned, after the fourth day.
“Give ’em time,” was the calm reply of the young inventor. “Rome wasn’t built in a day and you can’t catch these rascals in the first trap you set.”
“Then you still intend to catch them?”
“I sure do.”
“Aren’t you disappointed that they haven’t taken the bait?”
“Not yet. In fact, I’m better pleased than if they had put in a reply at once. It shows that there are big and important men back of this movement. If they had been petty grafters or fellows who were just working to get a certain sum out of me—a comparatively small sum—they would have answered right off. As it is, the delay shows they are taking their time and considering the thing from all angles. But I think they’ll bite sooner or later and grant me the interview I desire.”
“Is that what you want—just an interview?”
“Well, that’s part of it,” was Tom’s answer, given with a peculiar smile. “Once I’m face to face with this gang I’ll know what to do. I’ve pretty well settled it in my own mind that there are big interests fighting me, and, like large bodies, they move slowly. It will be all the better for the success of my plans if they don’t bite too quickly.”