have had it in waiting, ready for use. But come on, anyhow."
"Where are you going?"
"Out to the shop. I want to see if he got in there."
"But the charged wires?"
"He may have cut them. Come on."
It was as Tom had suspected. The deadly, charged wires, that formed a protecting cordon about his shops, had been cut, and that by an experienced hand, probably by someone wearing rubber gloves, who must have come prepared for that very purpose. During the night the current was supplied to the wires from a storage battery, through an intensifying coil, so that the charge was only a little less deadly than when coining direct from a dynamo.
"This looks bad, Tom," said Ned.
"It does, but wait until we get inside and look around. I'm glad I took my gun-plans to the house with me."
But a quick survey of the shop did not reveal any damage done, nor had anything been taken, as far as Tom could tell. The office of his main shop was pretty well upset, and it looked as though the intruder had made a search for something, and, not finding it, had entered the house.
"It was the gun-plans he was after, all right,"
