“Though what you were doin’ on Rattlesnake Island is more’n I can figger out,” said the mystified Mr. Marsh.
“We’re not very good at figuring, ourselves, this morning,” said Tom, with a glance at Ned. They saw no reason for telling what had happened until they had had a chance to capture the scoundrels, for to attempt this they were determined.
In a short time they were landed at a dock not far from the Swift shops, and Tom was soon in telephonic communication with Mr. Jackson, who was both surprised and delighted to hear from his missing employer.
“Ned’s safe, too!” Tom said. “Get word to his folks as soon as you can.”
“That’s what I’ll do, Mr. Swift!” said the shop superintendent. “But where have you been? We’ve had the police for miles around looking for you two. What happened?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later,” Tom said. “But how are things at the shop?”
“Well, we’ve had some trouble, and that fellow Greenbaum——”
But there, to Tom’s disgust, the connection was broken, nor, do what he would to attract the operator, could he restore it again.
“We’ve got to hurry back, Ned!” exclaimed the young inventor. “Those scoundrels are still at their tricks!”