right and no one hurt."

"No one hurt, Massa Tom? What about dem dere fellers?" and the colored
man pointed to the captives.

"Well, they're not hurt much," and Tom permitted himself a little
smile. "I don't want my father to worry. Tell him everything is all
right."

"All right, Massa Tom. I'se gwine right off. I'se got t' look after mah
mule, Boomerang, too. I'se gwine," and he shuffled away.

"Who else besides Feldman got away?" asked Tom, looking alternately at
the prisoners.

They hesitated a moment about answering.

"We might as well give up, I tell you," spoke Kurdy to Ransom.

"All right, go ahead, we'll have to take our medicine. I might have
known it would turn out this way--going in for this sort of thing. It's
the first bit of crooked business I ever tried," the man said
earnestly, "and it will be the last--believe me!"

"Who was the fourth man?" Tom repeated.

"Harrison," answered Kurdy, naming one of the most efficient of the new
machinists Tom had hired during the rush.

"Harrison, who has been working on the motor?" cried the young inventor.

"Yes," said Ransom.

"I'm sorry to learn that," Tom went on in a low voice. "He was an
expert in his line. But what was your object, anyhow, in attacking
Koku?"

"We didn't intend to attack him," explained Ransom, "but he came in
when we were at work, and as he went for us we tried to stand him off.
Then your colored man heard the racket, and--well, I guess you know the
rest."

"But I don't understand why you came into this shed at night," went on
Tom. "No one is allowed in here. You had no right, and Koku knew that.
What did you want?"

"Look here!" exclaimed Kurdy, "I said we'd make a clean breast of it,
and we will. We're only a couple of tools, and we were foolish ever to
go in with those fellows; or rather, in with that Frenchman, who
promised us big money if we succeeded."

"Succeeded in what?" demanded the young inventor.

"In damaging your new aerial warship, or in getting certain parts of it
so he could take them away with him."

Tom gave a surprised whistle.

"A frenchman!" he exclaimed. "Is he one of the--?"

"Yes, he's one of the foreign spies," interrupted Ransom. "You'd find
it out, anyhow, if we didn't tell you. They are after you, Tom Swift,
and after your machines. They had vowed to get them by fair means or
foul, for some of the European governments are desperate."

"But we were only tools in their hands. So were Feldm