the sound of an automobile
approaching. "I wonder if those men are coming back here?" he
exclaimed. "If they are--"

The youth again arose, and went to the front of the shed. He could
see nothing, and came back to escape the rain. There was no doubt
but that the shower would soon be over, and looking at his watch,
Tom began to calculate when he might arrive in Albany.

He was busy trying to figure out the best plan to pursue, and was
hardly conscious of his surroundings. Seated on the log, with his
back to the opening in the shed, the young inventor could not see a
figure stealthily creeping up through the wet grass. Nor could he
see an automobile, which had come to a stop back of the horse
shelter--an automobile containing two rain-soaked men, who were
anxiously watching the one stealing through the grass.

Tom put his watch back into his pocket and looked out into the
storm. It was almost over. The sun was trying to shine through the
clouds, and only a few drops were falling. The youth stretched with
a yawn, for he was tired of sitting still. At the moment when he
raised his arms to relieve his muscles something was thrust through
the opening behind him. It was a long club, and an instant later it
descended on the lad's head. He went down in a heap, limp and
motionless.

Through the opening leaped a man. He bent over Tom, looked anxiously
at him, and then, stepping to the place where the boards were off
the shed, he motioned to the men in the automobile.

They hurried from the machine, and were soon beside their companion.

"I knocked him out, all right," observed the man who had reached
through and dealt Tom the blow with the club.

"Knocked him out! I should say you did, Featherton!" exclaimed one
who appeared better dressed than the others. "Have you killed him?"

"No; but I wish you wouldn't mention my name, Mr. Appleson. I--I
don't like--"

"Nonsense, Featherton. No one can hear us. But I'm afraid you've
done for the chap. I didn't want him harmed."

"Oh, I guess Featherton knows how to do it, Appleson," commented the
third man. "He's had experience that way, eh, Featherton?"

"Yes, Mr. Morse; but if you please I wish you wouldn't mention--"

"All right, Featherton, I know what you mean," rejoined the man
addressed as Morse. "Now let's see if we have drawn a blank or not.
I think he has with him the very thing we want."

"Doesn't seem to be about his person," observed Appleson, as he
carefully f