Tom Swift And His Chest Of Secrets

Tom constructs a large, heavy brass-bound oak chest to hold his blueprints, formulae, and models until an underground vault can be built. But Tom is attacked and his possessions—including the chest—are suddenly missing, along with hie friend Koku. Tom must discover who stole his Chest of Secrets and save Koku from the villains...if he can!

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There was a puffing as of labored breath, a shuffling of feet in the hallway, a banging and clattering sound, and then a voice cried: “Where you have ’um, Master?” Ned Newton looked up from his desk and glanced across the room at Tom Swift who was poring over a mass of blue prints. The young inventor smiled at his equally youthful business manager as Ned remarked: “There’s your cute little giant Koku up to some of his interesting tricks again! Sounds as if he’d caught Eradicate by the hair of his bald head and was bringing him in upside down!” “Plague take those fellows!” muttered Tom, a look of annoyance passing over his face. “If they don’t stop this everlasting clashing to see who is going to do things around here, I’ll get rid of them both! That’s what I will!” Ned Newton laughed—laughed so hard that a pencil he had been using flew out of his hand and fell to the floor, breaking the fine point the young manager had put on in order to work over the financial affairs of the Swift Construction Company. Then Ned’s face sobered as he noted his broken pencil and he exclaimed: “Oh, soapsuds!” “Why the giggles?” asked Tom a bit impatiently. He had been buried in such deep thought that he resented the interruptions—not only the interruption of the noise outside his private office, but Ned’s laughter. “Oh, I was only laughing because you’ve threatened so many times to get rid of Koku and Eradicate. But you’ve never done it,” went on Ned, “and you never will.” “No, I never will, I suppose,” agreed Tom slightly chuckling. “Though they are mighty annoying at times with their everlasting——” He did not finish the sentence, for again there came from the hall those strange sounds and once more the voice asked: “Where you want ’um, Master?” “It all depends, I should say, on who ‘ ’um’ is,” laughed Ned. “It can’t be Rad,” remarked Tom, rising from his chair to go to the door. “If it were he’d have let out a yell long ago. It’s got so lately that he makes a fuss if Koku looks at him.” “Afraid he’ll turn him white, I reckon,” chuckled Ned. By this time Tom Swift had opened the door, revealing that Koku, the jungle giant, alone stood there, waiting for orders. Contrary to what Ned Newton had suggested, the big man did not have in his grasp Eradicate Sampson, the old colored servant of the Swift household. Between Koku and Eradicate there was an everlasting feud, due to the fact that each one loved and wanted to serve Tom and resented the other’s efforts in the same field of endeavor. But Koku held something else—something that, when Ned caught a glimpse of it, caused the young manager to exclaim: “My word, Tom, what’s the idea of the treasure chest?” For it was nothing less than that which the giant held up on his shoulder—a great, massive oak chest bound with heavy strips of brass. And, as if that were not enough to hold the chest together, there were in addition two strips of wrought iron around either end of it, the strips terminating in hasps which dropped over massive staples, there to be fastened with heavy brass padlocks which tinkled and clanged with a suggestive sound as Koku stood holding the big box. “Oh, Koku, I didn’t know this had come,” remarked Tom, and all his annoyance at the interruption to his thoughts passed. “I have been waiting for it.” “Jes’ comed,” remarked Koku, whose English left much to be desired, though he generally managed to make himself understood. “Two mans bring ’um off truck. Want to fetch ’um up here. I laff an’ say Koku brung. Them mans laff say no can do. I laff two times and I give mans push and bring ’um here. Here ’um am.” “So I see,” remarked Tom with gentle sarcasm. “And I suppose in refusing the offers of the truckmen who delivered my chest you knocked them seven ways or more. “Just cast your gaze out of that window, Ned, and see if you can observe two huskies with fire in their eyes who will make a demand on the Swift Construction Company for damages caused by personal injuries from this little follower of mine. And as for you, Koku, how many times must I tell you not to go about pushing! You aren’t playing football, you know!”

"Tom Swift and his Chest of Secrets; Or, Tracing the Stolen Inventions" by Howard R. Garis. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.

Despite the setbacks Tom endures at the hands of his enemies he succeeds in preserving his entrepreneurial spirit and keeps his family's company running.

Entering Tom Swift’s private laboratory from a room farther down the hall, Ned Newton, who seemed somewhat out of breath, glanced at the young inventor and asked: “Do you seem to be getting anywhere with it, Tom?” For a moment there was no reply. Tom, who had been leaning over a complicated apparatus of wires, switches, and radio bulbs that glowed dimly, was slowly turning a dial. Ned repeated his question, adding: “What seems to be the trouble?” “Trouble?” queried Tom, looking at Ned with eyes, however, that did not see him. “There must be some trouble,” insisted Ned, “or you’d have been capering around here on one leg when I came in after doing my stuff back there,” and he nodded toward the room farther down the hall. “How about it?” Tom Swift glanced away from the apparatus, which very much resembled a radio receiving set, to a yard-square burnished sheet of metal hanging in front of him and connected to the other mechanism by several wires. This burnished sheet appeared to be made of a mirror of some metal with a square of heavy plate glass covering it. “Can’t you answer?” inquired Ned, with a chuckle. “Boy, I certainly did some acting back there all by myself! And I’d like to know whether I got it through to you. Did I? Bet I did that song and dance for the fiftieth time just now. Come on—wake up—did it come through? What’s the matter, anyhow?” “I—I’m thinking,” said Tom slowly. “Don’t need an interpreter to tell me that!” and again Ned chuckled. “I can see it with half an eye. But was it a success?” “Yes, and no,” replied Tom, turning a switch which seemed to cut off some electrical current, for at once a faint hum that had been audible in the laboratory ceased. “Yes, and no. It came through all right; that is, part of it did, but the rest——” Tom ceased speaking and bent over his apparatus. He adjusted some set screws, turned a couple of dials, and changed three of the radio tubes which, now that the power was cut off, no longer glowed with light beneath the quicksilver coatings on the thin glass. “Do you want me to go back there and do it over?” asked Ned. “I’m willing, if you say so,” and he started for the room he had just left—a room wherein, under the focused rays of a battery of powerful lights and close to a box containing a strange assortment of tubes and transmitters, Ned had done his “stunt,” which consisted of singing and dancing about on a small stage. He performed alone—there was no audience but the distant one of Tom Swift in his laboratory several hundred feet away.

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