Chapter Twenty-Two
Off to the Meet
Softly Tom tiptoed into the room where his father lay. At the bedsidewere the three doctors, and the nurse followed the young inventor in.Mrs. Baggert stood in the hall, and near her was Garret Jackson. Theaged housekeeper had been weeping, but she smiled at Tom through hertears.
"I think he's going to get well," she whispered. She always looked onthe bright side of things. Tom's heart felt better.
"You must only speak a few words to him," cautioned the specialist, whohad performed such a rare and delicate operation, near the heart of theinvalid. "He is very weak, Tom."
Mr. Swift opened his eyes as his son approached. He looked aroundfeebly.
"Tom--are you there?" he asked in a whisper.
"Yes, dad," was the eager answer.
"They tell me you--you made a great trip to get Dr. Hendrix--brokenbridge--came through the air with him. Is that right?"
"Yes, dad. But don't tire yourself. You must get well and strong."
"I will, Tom. But tell me; did you go in--in the Humming-Bird?"
"Yes, dad."
"How did she work?"
"Fine. Over a hundred, and the motor wasn't at its best."
"That's good. Then you can go in the big race, and win."
"No, I don't believe I'll go, dad."
"Why not?" Mr. Swift spoke more strongly.
"I--because--well, I don't want to."
"Nonsense, Tom! I know; it's on my account. I know it is. But listen tome. I want you to go in! I want you to win that race! Never mind aboutme. I'm going to get well, and I'll recover all the more quickly if youwin that race. Now promise me you'll go in it and--and--win!"
The invalid's strength was fast leaving him.
"I--I---," began Tom.
"Promise!" insisted the aged inventor, trying to rise. Dr. Hendrix madea hasty move toward the bed.
"Promise!" whispered the surgeon to Tom.
"I--I promise!" exclaimed Tom, and the aged inventor sank back with asmile of satisfaction on his pale face.
"Now you must go," said Dr. Gladby to Tom. "He has talked long enough.He must sleep now, and get up his strength."
"Will he get better?" asked Tom, anxiously.
"We can't say for sure," was the answer. "We have great hopes."
"I don't want to enter the race unless I know he is going to live,"went on Tom, as Dr. Gladby followed him out of the room.
"No one can say for a certainty that he will recover," spoke thephysician. "You will have to hope for the best, that is all, Tom. If Iwere you I'd go in the race. It will occupy your mind, and if you couldsend good news to your father it might help him in the fight for lifehe is making."
"But suppose--suppose something happens while I am away?" suggested theyoung inventor.
The doctor thought for a moment. Then he exclaimed:
"You have a wireless outfit on your craft; haven't you?"
"Yes."
"Then you can receive messages from here every hour if you wish. GarretJackson, your engineer, can send them, and you can pick them up inmid-air if need be."
"So I can!" cried Tom. "I will go to the meet. I'll take theHumming-Bird apart at once, and ship it to Eagle Park. Unless Dr.Hendrix wants to go back in it," he added as an after thought.
"No," spoke Dr. Gladby, "Dr. Hendrix is going to remain here for a fewdays, in case of an emergency. By that time the bridge will have beenrepaired, and he can go back by train. I gather, from what he said,that though he liked the air trip, he will not care for another one."
"Very well," assented Tom, and Mr. Damon and he were kept busy, packingthe Humming-Bird for shipment. Mr. Jackson helped them, and Eradicateand his mule Boomerang were called on occasionally when boxes or crateswere to be taken to the railroad station.
In the meanwhile, Mr. Swift, if he did not improve any, at least heldhis own. This the doctors said was a sign of hope, and, though Tom wasfilled with anxiety, he tried to think that fate would be kind to him,and that his father would recover. Dr. Hendrix left, saying there wasnothing more he could do, and that the rest depended on the localphysicians, and on the nurse.
"Und ve vill do our duty!" ponderously exclaimed Dr. Kurtz. "You go offto dot bird race, Dom, und doan't vorry. Ve vill send der with-out-viremessages to you venever dere is anyt'ing to report. Go mit a lightheart!"
How Tom wished he could, but it was out of the question. The last ofthe parts of the Humming-Bird had been sent away, and our heroforwarded a telegram to Mr. Sharp, of the arrangement committee,stating that he and Mr. Damon would soon follow. Then, having biddenhis father a fond farewell, and after arranging with Mr. Jackson tosend frequent wireless messages, Tom and the eccentric man left for themeet.
There was a wireless station at Eagle Park, and Tom had planned toreceive the messages from home there until he could set up his ownplant. He would have two outfits. One in the big tent where theHumming-Bird was to be put together, and another on the machine itself,so that when in the air, practicing, or even in the great race itself,there would be no break in the news that was to be flashed throughspace.
Tom and Mr. Damon arrived at Eagle Park on time, and Tom's firstinquiry was for a message from home. There was one, stating that Mr.Swift was fairly comfortable, and seemed to be doing well. Withhappiness in his heart, the young inventor then set about getting theparts of his craft from the station to the park, where he and Mr.Damon, with a trusty machinist whom Mr. Sharp had recommended, wouldassemble it. Tom arranged that in his absence the wireless operator onthe grounds would take any message that came for him.
The Humming-Bird, in the big cases and boxes, had safely arrived, andthese were soon in the tent which had been assigned to Tom. It wasstill several days until the opening of the meet, and the groundspresented a scene of confusion.
Workmen were putting up grand stands, tents and sheds were beingerected, exhibitors were getting their machines in shape, and excitedcontestants of many nationalities were hurrying to and fro, inquiringabout parts delayed in shipment, or worrying lest some of their petideas be stolen.
Tom and Mr. Damon, with Frank Forker, the young machinist, were soonbusy in their big tent, which was a combined workshop and livingquarters, for Tom had determined to stay right on the ground until thebig race was over.
"I don't see anything of Andy Foger," remarked Mr. Damon, on the secondday of their residence in the park. "There are lots of new entriesarriving, but he doesn't seem to be on hand."
"There's time enough," replied Tom. "I am afraid he's hanging backuntil the last minute, and will spring his machine so late that I won'thave time to lodge a protest. It would be just like him."
"Well, I'll be on the lookout for him. Have you heard from home to-day,Tom?"
"No. I'm expecting a message any minute." The young inventor glancedtoward the wireless apparatus which had been set up in the tent. Atthat moment there came the peculiar sound which indicated a messagecoming through space, and down the receiving wires. "There's somethingnow!" exclaimed Tom, as he hurried over and clamped the telephonereceiver to his ear. He listened a moment.
"Good news!" he exclaimed. "Dad sat up a little to-day! I guess he'sgoing to get well!" and he clicked back congratulations to his fatherand the others in Shopton.
Another day saw the Humming-Bird almost in shape again, and Tom waspreparing for a tryout of the engine.
Mr. Damon had gone over to the committee headquarters to consult withMr. Sharp about the steps necessary for Tom to take in case Andy didattempt to enter a craft that infringed on the ideas of the younginventor, and on his way back he saw a newly-erected tent. There was ayoung man standing in the entrance, at the sight of whom the eccentricman murmured:
"Bless my skate-strap! His face looks very familiar!"
The youth disappeared inside the tent suddenly, and, as Mr. Damon cameopposite the canvas shelter, he started in surprise.
For, on a strip of muslin which was across the tent, painted in gayco
lors, were the words:
THE FOGER AEROPLANE
"Bless my elevation rudder!" cried Mr. Damon. "Andy's here at last! Imust tell Tom!"