etched out in the dim light like the pinions of a bird.
There was a ripping, tearing, rending sound, as the vandal cut and
slashed, but Tom, Ned and the watchman slumbered on.

CHAPTER X

TOM IS HELD UP

Tom Swift stirred uneasily in his heavy sleep. He dreamed that he
was again in his berth in the railroad car, and that the thief was
feeling under his pillow for the map. Only, this time, there seemed
to be hands feeling about his clothing, trying to locate his inner
pockets.

The lad murmured something unintelligible, but he did not awaken.
The fumes prevented that. However, his movements showed that the
effect of the drug was wearing off. It was intended only for
temporary use, and it lasted less time than it would otherwise have
done in a warmer, moister climate, for the cold, crisp air that
penetrated the shed from outside dispelled the fumes.

"Guess I'd better not chance it," murmured the intruder. "He may not
have it on him, and if I go through all his pockets I'll wake him
up. Anyhow, I've done what they paid me for. I don't believe they'll
sail in this airship."

The vandal gave one glance at the sleeping lads, and stole from the
cabin of the craft. He looked at his work of ruin, and then tiptoed
past the slumbering watchman. A moment later and he was outside the
shed, hurrying away through the night.

Several hours after this Mr. Damon and the old miner were pounding
on the door of the shed. Mr. Parker, the scientist, had remained at
the hotel, for he said he wanted to work out a few calculations
regarding some of his theories.

"I thought we'd find them up by this time," spoke the eccentric man,
as he again knocked on the door. "Tom said he had lots to do to-day."

"Maybe they are working inside, and can't hear our knocks,"
suggested Abe. "Try th' door."

"Bless my heart! I never thought of that," exclaimed Mr. Damon. "I
believe I will."

The door swung open as he pushed it, for it had not been locked when
the intruder left. The first thing Mr. Damon saw was the watchman,
still asleep in his chair.

"Bless my soul!" the old man shouted. "Look at this, Abe!"

"Something's wrong!" cried the miner, sniffing the air. "There's
been crooked work here! Where are the boys?"

Mr. Damon was close to the airship. He looked in the cabin window.

"Here they are, and they're both asleep, too!" he called. "And--bless
my eyeglasses! Look at the airship! The planes and wings are
all cut and slashe