Chapter Nine
A Trial Flight
For a few moments after their exclamations of surprise Tom and Mr.Damon did not know what else to say. They stared about in amazement,hardly able to believe that the shed could be empty. They had expectedto see some form of aeroplane in it, and Tom was almost sure his eyeswould meet a reproduction of his Humming-Bird, made from the stolenplans.
"Can it be possible there's nothing here?" went on Tom, after a longpause. He could not seem to believe it.
"Evidently not," answered Mr. Damon, as he advanced toward the centerof the big building and flashed the light on all sides. "You can seefor yourself."
"Or, rather, you can't see," spoke the youth. "It isn't here, that'ssure. You can't stick an aeroplane, even as small a one as my HummingBird, in a corner. No; it isn't here."
"Well, we'll have to look further," went on Mr. Damon. "I think--"
But a sudden noise near the big main doors of the shed interrupted him.
"Come on!" exclaimed Tom in a whisper. "Some one's coming! They may seeus! Let's get out!"
Mr. Damon released the pressure on the spring switch, and the lightwent out. After waiting a moment to let their eyes become accustomed tothe darkness, he and Tom stole to the door by which they had entered.As they swung it cautiously open they again heard the noise near themain portals by which Andy had formerly taken in and out the Anthony,as he had named the aeroplane in which he and his father went toAlaska, where, like Tom's craft, it was wrecked.
"Some one is coming in!" whispered Tom.
Hardly had he spoken when a light shone in the direction of the sound.The illumination came from a big lantern of the ordinary kind, carriedby some one who had just entered the shed.
"Can you see who it is?" whispered Mr. Damon, peering eagerly forward;too eagerly, for his foot struck against the wooden side wall with aloud bang.
"Who's there?" suddenly demanded the person carrying the lantern.
He raised it high above his head, in order to cast the gleams into allthe distant corners. As he did so a ray of light fell upon his face."Andy Foger!" gasped Tom in a hoarse whisper.
Andy must have heard, for he ran forward just as Tom and Mr. Damonslipped out.
"Hold on! Who are you?" came in the unmistakable tones of thered-haired bully.
"I don't think we're going to tell," chuckled Tom softly, as he and hisfriend sped off into the darkness. They were not followed, and as theylooked back they could see a light bobbing about in the shed.
"He's looking for us!" exclaimed Mr. Damon with an inward laugh. "Blessmy watch chain! But it's a good thing we got in ahead of him. Are yousure it was Andy himself?"
"Sure! I'd know his face anywhere. But I can't understand it. Where hashe been? What is he doing? Where is he building his aeroplane? Ithought he was out of town."
"He may have come back to-night," said Mr. Damon. "That's the only oneof your questions I can answer. We'll have to wait about the rest, I'msure he wasn't around the house to-day, though, for I was working atweeding the flower beds, in my disguise as a tramp, and if he was homeI'd have seen him. He must have just come back, and he went out to hisshed to get something. Well, we did the best we could."
"Indeed we did," agreed Tom, "and I'm ever so much obliged to you, Mr.Damon."
"And we'll try again, when we get more clues. Bless my shoelaces! butit's a relief to be able to talk as you like."
And forthwith the eccentric man began to call down so many blessings onhimself and on his belongings, no less than on his friends, that Tomlaughingly warned him that he had better save some for another time.
The two reached home safely, removed their "disguises," and told Mr.Swift of the result of their trip. He agreed with them that there was amystery about Andy's aeroplane which was yet to be solved.
But Tom was glad to find that, at any rate, the craft was not beingmade in Shopton, and during the next two weeks he devoted all his timeto finishing his own machine. Mr. Jackson was a valuable assistant, andMr. Damon gave what aid he could.
"Well, I think I'll be ready for a trial flight in another week," saidTom one day, as he stepped back to get a view of the almost completedHumming-Bird.
"Shall you want a passenger?" asked Mr. Damon.
"Yes, I wish you would take a chance with me. I could use a bag ofsand, not that I mean you are to be compared to that," added Tomquickly, "but I'd rather have a real person, in order to test thebalancing apparatus. Yes, we'll make a trial trip together."
In the following few days Tom went carefully over the aeroplane, makingsome slight changes, strengthening it here and there, and testing themotor thoroughly. It seemed to work perfectly.
At length the day of the trial came, and the Humming-Bird was wheeledout of the shed. In spite of the fact that it was practically finished,there yet remained much to do on it. It was not painted or decorated,and looked rather crude. But what Tom wanted to know was how it wouldfly, what control he had over it, what speed it could make, and how itbalanced. For it was, at best, very frail, and the least change inequilibrium might be fatal.
Before taking his place in the operator's seat Tom started the motor,and by means of a spring balance tested the thrust of the propellers.It was satisfactory, though he knew that when the engine had been runfor some time, and had warmed up, it would do much better.
"All ready, I guess, Mr. Damon!" he called, and the odd gentleman tookhis place. Tom got up into his own seat, in front of several wheels andlevers by which he operated the craft.
"Start the propeller!" he requested of Mr. Jackson, and soon the motorwas spitting fire, while the big, fan-like blades were whirring aroundlike wings of light. The engineer and Eradicate were holding back theHumming-Bird.
"Let her go!" cried Tom as he turned on more gasoline and furtheradvanced the spark of the motor. The roar increased, the propellerlooked like a solid circle of wood, and the trim little monoplane movedslowly across the rising ground, increasing its speed every second,until, like some graceful bird, it suddenly rose in the air as Tomtilted the wing tips, and soared splendidly aloft!