Chapter Twenty-Five
Home Again--Conclusion
Mr. Sharp pushed his way through the crowd.
"The committee has the certified check ready for you, Tom," called theballoonist. "Will you come and get it?"
"Send it to me, please," answered the young inventor. "I must go to myfather."
"Huh! I'd have beaten him in another round," boasted Andy Foger. No onepaid any attention to him.
"Monsieur ezz plucky!" said the Frenchman, Perique. "I am honaired toshake his hand! He has broken all ze records!"
"Dot's der best machine I effer saw," spoke the Dutchman, De Tromp,ponderously. "Shake hands!"
"Ver' fine, ver' good!" came from the little Japanese, and all thecontestants congratulated Tom warmly. Never before had a hundred milesbeen covered so speedily.
A man elbowed his way through the press of people.
"Is your machine fully protected by patents?" he inquired earnestly.
"It is," said Tom.
"Then, as a representative of the United States Government, I wouldlike an option to purchase the exclusive right to use them," said theman. "Can you guarantee that no one else has any plans of them? Itwill mean a fortune to you."
Tom hesitated. He thought of the stolen plans. If he could only getpossession of them! He glanced at Andy Foger, who was wheeling hismachine back into the tent. But there was no time now to have it outwith the bully.
"I will see you again," said Tom to the government agent. "I must go tomy father, who is dying. I can't answer you now."
The tanks were filled. Tom gave a hasty look to his machine, and,bidding his new friends farewell, he and Mr. Damon took their placesaboard the Humming-Bird. The little craft rose in the air, and soonthey had left Eagle Park far behind. Eagerly Tom strained his eyes fora sight of his home town, though he knew it would be several hours erehe could hover over it.
Would he be in time? Would he be in time? That question came to himagain and again.
For a time the Humming-Bird skimmed along as though she delighted inthe rapid motion, in slipping through the air and sliding along on thebillows of wind. Tom, with critical ears, listened to the hum of themotor, the puffing of the exhaust, the grinding of the gear wheels, andthe clicking of the trips, as valve after valve opened or closed toadmit the mixture of air and gasoline, or closed to give thecompression necessary for the proper explosion.
"Is she working all right?" asked Mr. Damon, anxiously, and, such wasthe strain on him that he did not think to bless anything. "Is she allright, Tom, my lad?"
"I think so. I'm speeding her to the limit. Faster than I ever didbefore, but I guess she'll do. She was built to stand a strain, andshe's got to do it now!"
Then there was silence again, as they slid along through the air like acoaster gliding down a steep descent.
"It was a great race, wasn't it?" asked Mr. Damon, as he shifted to aneasier position in his seat. "A great race, Tom. I didn't think you'ddo it, one spell there."
"Neither did I," came the answer, as the young inventor changed thespark lever. "But I made up my mind I wouldn't be beaten by Andy Foger,if I could help it. Though it was taking a risk to shut off the currentthe way I did."
"A risk?"
"Yes; it might not have started again," and Tom looked down at theearth below them, as if measuring the distance he would have fallen hadnot his sky racer kept on at the critical moment.
"And--and if the current hadn't come on again; eh, Tom? Would we--?"
Mr. Damon did not finish, but Tom knew what he meant.
"It would have been all up with us," he said simply. "I might havevolplaned back to earth, but at the speed we were going, and at theheight, around a curve, we might have turned turtle."
"Bless my--!" began Mr. Damon, and then he stopped. The thought ofTom's trouble came to him, and he realized that his words might grateon the feelings of his companion.
On they rushed through the air with the Humming-Bird speeded up fasterand faster as she warmed to her task. The machinery seemed to beworking perfectly, and as Tom listened to the hum a look of pleasurereplaced the look of anxiety on his face.
"Don't you think we'll make it?" asked Mr. Damon, after another pause,during which they passed over a large city, the inhabitants exhibitingmuch excitement as they sighted the airship over their heads.
"We've got to make it!" declared Tom between his clenched teeth.
He turned on a little more gasoline, and there was a spurt in theirspeed which made Mr. Damon grasp the upright braces near him with firmhands, and his face became a little paler.
"It's all right," spoke Tom, reassuringly. "There's no danger."
But Tom almost reckoned without his host, for a few moments later, ashe was trying to get more revolutions out of the propellers, he raninto an adverse current of air.
In an instant the Humming-Bird was tilted up almost on her "beams'ends," so to speak, and had it not been that the young inventor quicklywarped the wing tips, to counteract the pressure on one side, theremight have been a different end to this story.
"Bless my----!" began Mr. Damon, but he got no further, for he had tobend his body as Tom did, to equalize the pressure of the wind current.
"A little farther over!" yelled the lad. "A little farther over thisway, Mr. Damon!"
"But if I come any more toward you I'll be out of my seat!" objectedthe eccentric man.
"If you don't you'll be out of the aeroplane!" cried Tom grimly, andhis companion leaned over as far as he could until the young pilot hadbrought the craft to an even keel again.
Then Tom speeded up the motor, which he had partly shut down as theypassed through the danger zone, and again they were racing throughspace.
They were nearing Shopton now, as the lad and Mr. Damon could tell bythe familiar landmarks which loomed up in sight. Tom strained his eyesfor the first view of his home.
Suddenly, as they were skimming along, there came a cessation of thehum and roar that told of the perfectly-working motor. It was anominous silence.
"What's--what's wrong?" gasped Mr. Damon.
"Something's given way," answered Tom quickly. "I'm afraid the magnetoisn't sparking as it ought to."
"Well, can't we volplane back to earth?" asked the odd man, for he hadbecome familiar with this feat when anything happened to the motor.
"We could," answered Tom, "but I'm not going to."
"Why not?"
"Because we're too far from Shopton--and dad! I'm going to keep on.I've got to--if I want to be there in time!"
"But if the motor doesn't work?"
"I'll make her work!"
Tom was desperately manipulating the various levers and handlesconnected with the electrical ignition system. He tried in vain to getthe magneto to resume the giving out of sparks, and, failing in that,he switched on the batteries. But, to his horror, the dry cells hadgiven out. There was no way of getting a spark unless the littleelectrical machine would work.
The propellers were still whirring around by their own momentum, and ifTom could switch in the magneto in time all might yet be well.
They had started to fall, but, by quickly bringing up the head planetips, Tom sent his craft soaring upward again on a bank of air.
"Here!" he cried to Mr. Damon. "Take the steering-wheel and kept her onthis level as long as you can."
"What are you going to do?"
"I've got to fix that magneto!"
"But if she dips down?"
"Throw up the head planes as I did. It's our only chance! I can't godown now, so far from Shopton!"
Mr. Damon reached over and took the wheel from Tom's hands. Then theyoung inventor, leaning forward, for the magneto was within easy reach,looked to see what the trouble was. He found it quickly. A wire hadvibrated loose from a binding-post. In a second Tom had it in placeagain; and, ere the propellers had ceased revolving, he had turned theswitch. The magneto took up the work in a flash. Once more the sparkexploded the gasoline mixture, and the propell
ers sent the Humming-Birdswiftly ahead.
"We'll make it now!" declared Tom grimly.
"We're almost there," added Mr. Damon, as he relinquished the wheel tothe young pilot. The craft had gone down some, but Tom sent her upagain.
Nearer and nearer home they came, until at last the spires of theShopton churches loomed into view. Then he was over the village. Now hewas within sight of his own house.
Tom coasted down a bank of air, and brought the Humming-Bird up with ajerk of the ground brakes. Before the wheels had ceased turning he hadleaped out.
"It's Massa Tom!" cried Eradicate, as he saw Tom alight.
The young inventor hurried into the house. He was met by the nurse, whoheld up a warning finger. Tom's heart almost stopped beating. He wasaware that Dr. Gladby came from the room where Mr. Swift lay.
"Is he--is he--am I too late?" gulped Tom.
"Hush!" cautioned the nurse.
Tom reeled, and would have fallen had not the doctor caught him, forthe lad was weak and worn out.
"He is going to get well!" were the joyful words he heard, as if in adream, and then his strength suddenly came back to him. "The crisis isjust passed, Tom," went on Dr. Gladby, "and your father will recover,and be stronger than ever. Your good news of winning was like a tonicto him. Now let me congratulate you on the race." Tom had flashed bywireless a brief message of his success.
"Dad's news is better than all the congratulations in the world," hesaid softly, as he grasped the doctor's hand.
* * * * *
It was a week later. Mr. Swift improved rapidly once the course of thedisease was permanently checked, and he was soon able to sit up. Tomwas with him in the room, talking of the great race, and how he hadwon. He fingered the certified check for ten thousand dollars that hadjust come to him by mail.
"You certainly did wonderfully well," said the aged inventor, softly."Wonderfully well, Tom. I'm proud of you."
"You may well be," added Mr. Damon. "Bless my shoelaces, but I thoughtAndy Foger had us there one spell; didn't you, Tom?"
"Indeed I did. But you helped me win, Mr. Damon."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed the odd man.
"Yes, you did. You helped me a lot."
"Well, are you going to keep after more air-prizes, Tom, or are yougoing to try for something else?" asked his father.
"I don't believe I'll go in any more aeroplane races right away,"answered the young inventor. "For some time I've been wanting tocomplete and perfect my electric rifle. I think I'll begin work on thatsoon."
"And go hunting?" asked Mr. Damon.
"I think so," answered Tom, dreamily. "I don't know just where, though."
Where he went, and what he shot, will be told in the next volume ofthis series, to be called: "Tom Swift and His Electric Rifle; or,Daring Adventures in Elephant Land."
For a few moments after Tom's announcement no one spoke, then the younginventor said:
"It's too bad that first set of plans were stolen. If I had them Icould make a good deal with the Government about my little aeroplane.But they don't want to take up with it as long as there is a chance ofsome foreign nation getting information about the secret parts, and mypatents won't hold abroad. I wonder if there is any way of gettingthose plans away from Andy Foger? I don't understand why he hasn't usedthem before this. I thought sure he would make a craft like theHumming-Bird to race against me."
"What plans are those?" asked Mr. Swift.
"Why, don't you remember?" asked Tom. "The ones I showed you one day,in the library, when you fell asleep, and some one slipped in and stolethem."
A curious look came over Mr. Swift's face. He passed his hand acrosshis brow.
"I am beginning to remember something I have been trying to recall eversince I became ill," he said slowly. "It is coming back to me. Thoseplans--in the library--I fell asleep, but before I did so I hid thoseplans, Tom!"
"You hid those plans!" Tom fairly shouted the words.
"Yes, I remember feeling a drowsy feeling coming on, and I feared lestsome one might see the drawings. I got up and put them under thewindow, in a little, hollow place in the foundation wall. Then I cameback in through the window again, and went to sleep. Then, on accountof my illness, just as I once before forgot something, and thought theminister had called, I lost all recollection of them. I hid thoseplans."
Tom leaped to his feet. He rushed to the place named by his father.Soon his triumphant shout told of his success. He came hurrying backinto the house with a roll of papers in his hands.
And there were the long-missing plans! damp and stained by the weather,but all there. No enemy had them, and Tom's secret was safe.
"Now I can accept the Government offer!" he cried. And a few weekslater he made a most advantageous deal with the United States officialsfor his patents.
Dr. Gladby explained that Mr. Swift's queer action was due to hisillness. He became liable to lapses of memory, and one happened justafter he hid away the plans. Even the hiding of them was caused by thepeculiar condition of his brain. He had opened the library window,slipped oot with the papers, and hastened in again, to fall asleep inhis chair, during the short time Tom was gone.
"And Andy Foger never took them at all," remarked Mary Nestor, when Tomwas telling her about it a few days afterward.
"No. I guess I must apologize to him." Which Tom did, but Andy did notreceive it very graciously, especially as Tom accused him of trying todestroy the Humming-Bird.
Andy denied this and denied having anything to do with the mysteriousfire, and, as there was no way to prove him guilty, Tom could notproceed against him. So the matter was dropped.
Mr. Swift continued to improve, and was soon himself again, and able toresume his inventive work. Tom received several offers to giveexhibition flights at big aero meets, but refused, as he was busy onhis new rifle. Mr. Damon helped him.
Andy Foger made several successful flights in his queer aeroplane,which turned out to be the product of a German genius who was suppliedwith money by Mr. Foger. Andy became very proud, and boasted that heand the German were going abroad to give flights in Europe.
"I'd be glad if he would," said Tom, when he heard of the plan. "Hewouldn't bother me then."
With the money received from winning the big race, and from hiscontracts from the Government, Tom Swift was now in a fair way tobecome quite wealthy. He was destined to have many more adventures;yet, come what might, never would he forget the thrilling happeningsthat fell to his lot while flying for the ten-thousand dollar prize inhis sky racer.
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