Tom Swift and His Airship
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Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift and His Airship
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"Now we'll go down into the car or cabin," continued the young
navigator of the air, "and I'll show you what we do when we're touring
amid the clouds."
As they started to descend the flight of steps from the loft platform,
a noise on the ground below attracted their attention.
"Guess that's Mr. Sharp coming," said Ned.
Tom leaned over and looked down. An instant later he grasped the arm
of his chum, and motioned to him to keep silent.
"Take a look," whispered the young inventor.
"Andy Foger!" exclaimed Ned, peering over the railing.
"Yes, and Sam Snedecker and Pete Bailey are with him. They sneaked in
when I left the door open. Wonder what they want?"
"Up to some mischief, I'll wager," commented Ned. "Hark! They're
talking."
The two lads on the loft listened intently. Though the cronies on the
ground below them did not speak loudly, their voices came plainly to
the listeners.
"Let's poke a hole in their gas bag," proposed Sam. "That will make
them think they're not so smart as they pretend."
"Naw, we can't do that," answered Andy.
"Why not?" declared Pete.
"Because the bag's away up in the top part of the shed, and I'm not
going to climb up there."
"You're afraid," sneered Sam.
"I am not! I'll punch your face if you say that again! Besides the
thing that holds the gas is made of aluminum, and we can't make a hole
in it unless we take an axe, and that makes too much noise."
"We ought to play some sort of a trick on Tom Swift," proposed Pete.
"He's too fresh!"
Tom shook his fist at the lads on the ground, but of course they did
not see him.
"I have it!" came from Andy.
"What?" demanded his two cronies.
"We'll cut some of the guy wires from the planes and rudders. That
will make the airship collapse. They'll think the wires broke from the
strain. Take out your knives and saw away at the wires. Hurry, too, or
they may catch us."
"You're caught now," whispered Ned to Tom. "Come on down, and give 'em
a trouncing."
Tom hesitated. He looked quickly about the loft, and then a smile
replaced the frown of righteous anger on his face.
"I have a better way," he said.
"What is it?"
"See that pile of dirt?" and he pointed to some refuse that had been
swept up from the floor of the loft. Ned nodded. "It consists of a lot
of shavings, sawdust and, what's more, a lot of soot and lampblack
that we used in mixing some paint. We'll sweep the whole pile down on
their heads, and make them wish they'd stayed away from this place."
"Good!" exclaimed Ned, chuckling. "Give me a broom. There's another
one for you."
The two lads in the loft peered down. The red-headed, squint-eyed
bully and his chums had their knives out, and were about to cut some
of the important guy wires, when, at a signal from Tom, Ned, with a
sweep of his broom, sent a big pile of the dirt, sawdust and lampblack
down upon the heads of the conspirators. The young inventor did the
same thing, and for an instant the lower part of the shed looked as if
a dirtstorm had taken place there. The pile of refuse went straight
down on the heads of the trio, and, as they were looking up, in order
to see to cut the wires, they received considerable of it in their
faces.
In an instant the white countenances of the lads were changed to
black-as black as the burnt-cork performers in a minstrel show. Then
came a series of howls.
"Wow! Who did that!"
"I'm blinded! The shed is falling down!"
"Run fellows, run!" screamed Andy. "There's been an explosion. We'll
be killed!"
At that moment the big doors of the shed were thrown open, and Mr.
Sharp came in. He started back in astonishment at the sight of the
three grotesque figures, their faces black with the soot, and their
clothes covered with sawdust and shavings, rushing wildly around.
"That will teach you to come meddling around here. Andy Roger!" cried
Tom.
"I-I-you-you-Oh, wait-I-you-" spluttered the bully, almost speechless
with rage. Sam and Pete were wildly trying to wipe the stuff from
their faces, but only made matters worse. They were so startled that
they did not know enough to run out of the opened doors.
"Wish we had some more stuff to put on 'em," remarked Ned, who was
holding his sides that ached from laughter.
"I have it!" cried Tom, and he caught up a bucket of red paint, that
had been used to give the airship its brilliant hue. Running to the
end of the loft Tom stood for an instant over the trio of lads who
were threatening and imploring by 'turns.
"Here's another souvenir of your visit," shouted the young inventor,
as he dashed the bucket of red paint down on the conspirators. This
completed the work of the dirt and soot, and a few seconds later, each
face looking like a stage Indian's ready for the war-path, the trio
dashed out. They shed shavings, sawdust and lampblack at every step,
and from their clothes and hands and faces dripped the carmine paint.
"Better have your pictures taken!" cried Ned, peering from an upper
window.
"Yes, and send us one," added Tom, joining his chum. Andy looked up at
them. He dug a mass of red paint from his left ear, removed a mass of
soot from his right cheek, and, shaking his fist, which was
alternately striped red and black, cried out in a rage
"I'll get even with you yet, Tom Swift!"
"You only got what was coming to you," retorted the young inventor.
"The next time you come sneaking around this airship, trying to damage
it, you'll get worse, and I'll have you arrested. You've had your
lesson, and don't forget it."
The red-haired bully, doubly red-haired now, had nothing more to say.
There was nothing he could say, and, accompanied by his companions, he
made a bee-line for the rear gate in the fence, and darted across the
meadow. They were all sorry enough looking specimens, but solely
through their own fault.
Chapter 8 - Winning a Prize
"Well, Tom, what happened?" asked Mr. Sharp, as he saw the trio
running away. "Looks as if you had had an exciting time here."
"No, those fellows had all the excitement," declared Ned. "We had the
fun." And the two lads proceeded to relate what had taken place.
"Tried to damage the airship, eh?" asked Mr. Sharp. "I wish I'd caught
them at it; the scoundrels! But perhaps you handled them as well as I
could have done."
"I guess so," assented Tom. "I must see if they did cut any of the
wires."
But the young inventor and his chum had acted too quickly, and it was
found that nothing, had been done to the Red Cloud.
A little later the airship was taken out of the shed, and made ready
for a trip. The gas ascension was first used, and Ned and Mr. Swift
were passengers with Tom and Mr. Sharp. The machine went about a
thousand feet up in the air, and then was sent in various directions,
to the no small delight of a large crowd that gathered in the meadow
back of the Swift property; for it only required the sight of the
airship looming its bulk above the fence and buildings, to attract a
throng. It is safe to say this time, however, that Andy Foger and his
cronies were not in the audience. They were probably too busy removing
the soot and red paint.
Although it was the first time Mr. Swift had ever been in an airship,
he evinced no great astonishment. In fact he seemed to be thinking
deeply, and on some subject not connected with aeronautics. Tom
noticed the abstraction of his father, and shook his head. Clearly the
aged inventor was not his usual self.
As for Ned Newton his delight knew no bounds, At first he was a bit
apprehensive as the big ship went higher and higher, and swung about,
but he soon lost his fear, and enjoyed the experience as much as did
Tom. The young inventor was busy helping Mr. Sharp manage the
machinery, rudders-planes and motor.
A flight of several miles was made, and Tom was wishing they might pay
another visit to the Rocksmond Seminary, but Mr. Sharp, after
completing several evolutions, designed to test the steering qualities
of the craft, put back home.
"We'll land in the meadow and try rising by the planes alone," he
said. In this evolution it was deemed best for Mr. Swift and Ned to
alight, as there was no telling just how the craft would behave. Tom's
father was very willing to get out, but Ned would have remained in,
only for the desire of his friend.
With the two propellers whirring at a tremendous speed, and all the
gas out of the aluminum container, the Red Cloud shot forward, running
over the level ground of the meadow, where a starting course had been
laid out.
"Clear the track!" cried Mr. Sharp, as he saw the crowd closing up in
front of him. The men, boys, several girls and women made a living
lane. Through this shot the craft, and then, when sufficient momentum
had been obtained, Tom, at a command from the aeronaut, pulled the
lever of the elevation rudder. Up into the air shot the nose of the
Red Cloud as the wind struck the slanting surface of the planes, and,
a moment later it was sailing high above the heads of the throng.
"That's the stuff!" cried Mr. Sharp. "It works as well that way as it
does with the gas!"
Higher and higher it went, and then, coming to a level keel, the craft
was sent here and there, darting about like a bird, and going about in
huge circles.
"Start the gas machine, and we'll come to rest in the air," said the
balloonist, and Tom did so. As the powerful vapor filled the container
the ship acquired a bouyancy, and there was no need of going at high
speed in order to sustain it. The propellers were stopped, and the Red
Cloud floated two thousand feet in the air, only a little distance
below some fleecy, white masses from which she took her name. The
demonstration was a great success. The gas was again allowed to
escape, the propellers set in motion, and purely as an aeroplane, the
ship was again sent forward. By means of the planes and rudders a
perfect landing was made in the meadow, a short distance from where
the start had been made. The crowd cheered the plucky youth and Mr.
Sharp.
"Now I'm ready to go on a long trip any time you are, Tom," said the
aeronaut that night.
"We'll fit up the car and get ready," agreed the `youth. "How about
you, dad?"
"Me? Oh, well-er-that is, you see; well, I'll think about it," and Mr.
Swift went to his own room, carrying with him a package of papers,
containing intricate calculations.
Tom shook his head, but said nothing. He could not understand his
father's conduct.
Work was started the next day on fitting up the car, or cabin, of the
airship, so that several persons could live, eat and sleep in it for
two weeks, if necessary. The third day after this task had been
commenced the mail brought an unusual communication to Tom and Mr.
Sharp. It was from an aero club of Blakeville, a city distant about a
hundred miles, and stated that a competition for aeroplanes and
dirigible balloons was to be held in the course of two weeks. The
affair was designed to further interest in the sport, and also to
demonstrate what progress had been made in the art of conquering the
air. Prizes were to be given, and the inventors of the Red Cloud, the
achievements of which the committee of arrangements had heard, were
invited to compete.
"Shall we go in for it, Tom?" asked the balloonist.
"I'm willing if you are."
"Then let's do it. We'll see how our craft shows up alongside of
others. I know something of this club. It is all right, but the
carnival is likely to be a small one. Once I gave a balloon exhibition
for them. The managers are all right. Well, we'll have a try at it.
Won't do us any harm to win a prize. Then for a long trip!"
As it was not necessary to have the car, or cabin, completely fitted
up in order to compete for the prize, work in that direction was
suspended for the time being, and more attention was paid to the
engine, the planes and rudders. Some changes were made and, a week
later the Red Cloud departed for Blakeville. As the rules of the
contest required three passengers, Ned Newton was taken along, Mr.
Swift having arranged with the bank president so that the lad could
have a few days off.
The Red Cloud arrived at the carnival grounds in the evening, having
been delayed on the trip by a broken cog wheel, which was mended in
mid-air. As the three navigators approached, they saw a small machine
flying around the grounds.
"Look!" cried Ned excitedly. "What a small airship."
"That's a monoplane," declared Tom, who was getting to be quite an
expert.
"Yes, the same kind that was used to cross the English Channel,"
interjected Mr. Sharp. "They're too uncertain for my purposes, though;
they are all right under certain conditions."
Hardly had he spoken than a puff of wind caused the daring manipulator
of the monoplane to swerve to one side. He had to make a quick
descent-so rapid was it, in fact, that the tips of one of his planes
was smashed.
"It'll take him a day to repair that," commented the aeronaut dryly.
The Red Cloud created a sensation as she slowly settled down in front
of the big tent assigned to her. Tom's craft was easily the best one
at the carnival, so far, though the managers said other machines were
on the way.
The exhibition opened the next day, but no flights were to be
attempted until the day following. Two more crafts arrived, a large
triplane, and a dirigible balloon. There were many visitors to the
ground, and Tom, Ned and Mr. Sharp were kept busy answering questions
put by those who crowded into their tent. Toward the close of the day
a fussy little Frenchman entered, and, making his way to where Tom
stood, asked
"Air you ze ownair of zis machine?"
"One of them," replied the lad.
"Ha! Sacre! Zen I challenge you to a race. I have a monoplane zat is
ze swiftest evaire! One thousand francs will I wager you, zat I can
fly higher and farther zan you."
"Shall we take him up, Mr. Sharp?" asked Tom.
"We'll race with him, after we get through with the club entries."
decided the aeronaut. "but not for money. It's against my principles,
and I don't believe your father would like it. Racing for prizes is a
different thing."
"Well, we will devote ze money to charity," conceded the Frenchman.
This was a different matter, and one to which Mr. Sharp did not
object, so it was arranged that a trial should take place after the
regular affairs.
That night was spent in getting the Red Cloud in shape for the
contests of the next day. She was "groomed" until every wire was taut
and every cog, lever and valve working perfectly. Ned Newton helped
all he could. So much has appeared in the newspapers of the races at
Blakeville that I will not devote much space here to them. Suffice it
to say that the Red Cloud easily distanced the big dirigible from
which much was expected. It was a closer contest with the large
triplane, but Tom's airship won, and was given the prize, a fine
silver cup.
As the carnival was a small one, no other craft in a class with the
Red Cloud had been entered, so Tom and Mr. Sharp had to be content
with the one race they won. There were other contests among monoplanes
and biplanes, and the little Frenchman won two races.
"Now for ze affaire wis ze monstaire balloon of ze rouge color!" he
cried, as he alighted from his monoplane while an assistant filled the
gasolene tank. "I will in circles go around you, up and down, zis side
zen ze ozzer, and presto! I am back at ze starting place, before you
have begun. Zen charity shall be ze richair!"
"All right, wait and see," said Tom, easily. But, though he showed
much confidence he asked Mr. Sharp in private, just before the
impromptu contest: "Do you think we can beat him?"
"Well," said the aeronaut, shrugging his shoulders, "you can't tell
much about the air. His machine certainly goes very fast, but too much
wind will be the undoing of him, while it will only help us. And I
think," he added, "that we're going to get a breeze."
It was arranged that the Red Cloud would start from the ground,
without the use of the gas, so as to make the machines more even. At
the signal off they started, the motors making a great racket. The
monoplane with the little Frenchman in the seat got up first.
"Ah, ha!" he cried gaily, "I leave you in ze rear! Catch me if you
can!"
"Don't let him beat us," implored Ned.
"Can't you speed her up any more?" inquired Tom of Mr. Sharp.
The aeronaut nodded grimly, and turned more gasolene into the twenty-
cylindered engine. Like a flash the Red Cloud darted forward. But the
Frenchman also increased his speed and did, actually, at first, circle
around the bigger machine, for his affair was much lighter. But when
he tried to repeat that feat he found that he was being left behind.
"That's the stuff! We're winning!" yelled Tom, Ned joining in the
shout.
Then came a puff of wind. The monoplane had to descend, for it was in
danger of turning turtle. Still the navigator was not going to give
up. He flew along at a lower level. Then Mr. Sharp opened up the Red
Cloud's engine at full speed, and it was the big machine which now
sailed around the other.
"I protest! I protest!" cried the Frenchman, above the explosions of
his motor. "Ze wind is too strong for me!"
Mr. Sharp said nothing, but, with a queer smile on his face he sent
the airship down toward the earth. A moment later he was directly
under the monoplane. Then, quickly rising, he fairly caught the
Frenchman's machine on top of a square platform of the gas container,
the bicycle wheels of the monoplane resting on the flat surface. And,
so swiftly did the Red Cloud fly along that it carried the monoplane
with it, to the chagrin of the French navigator.
"A trick! A trick!" he cried. "Eet is not fair!"
Then, dropping down, Mr. Sharp allowed the monoplane to proceed under
its own power, while he raced on to the finish mark, winning, of
course, by a large margin.
"Ha! A trick! I race you to-morrow and again to-morrow!" cried the
beaten Frenchman as he alighted.
"No, thanks," answered Tom. "We've had enough. I guess charity will be
satisfied."
The little Frenchman was a good loser, and paid over the money, which
was given to the Blakeville Hospital, the institution receiving it
gladly.
At the request of the carnival committee, Mr. Sharp and Tom gave an
exhibition of high and long flights the next day, and created no
little astonishment by their daring feats.
"Well, I think we have reason to be proud of our ship," remarked Mr.
Sharp that night. "We won the first contest we were ever in, and beat
that speedy monoplane, which was no small thing to do, as they are
very fast."
"But wait until we go on our trip," added Tom, as he looked at the cup
they had won. He little realized what danger they were to meet with in
the flight that was before them.
Chapter 9 - The Runaway Auto
Had the inventors of the Red Cloud desired, they could have made
considerable money by giving further exhibitions at the Blakeville
Aero Carnival, and at others which were to be held in the near future
at adjoining cities. The fame of the new machine had spread, and there
were many invitations to compete for prizes.
But Tom and Mr. Sharp wished to try their skill in a long flight, and
at the close of the Blakeville exhibition they started for Shopton,
arriving there without mishap, though Tom more than half hoped that
they might happen to strike the tower of a certain school. I needn't
specify where.
The first thing to be done was to complete the fitting-up of the car,
or cabin. No berths had, as yet, been put in, and these were first
installed after the Red Cloud was in her shed. Then an electrical
heating and cooking apparatus was fitted in; some additional
machinery, tanks for carrying water, and chemicals for making the gas,
boxes of provisions, various measuring instruments and other supplies
were put in the proper places, until the cabin was filled almost to
its capacity. Of course particular attention had been paid to the ship
proper, and every portion was gone over until Mr. Sharp was sure it
was in shape for a long flight.
"Now the question is," he said to Tom one evening, "who shall we take
with us? You and I will go, of course, but I'd like one more. I wonder
if your father can't be induced to accompany us? He seemed to like the
trial trip."
"I'll ask him to-morrow," said the lad. "He's very busy to-night. If
he doesn't care about it, maybe Garret Jackson will go."
"I'm afraid not. He's too timid."
"I'd like to take Ned Newton, but he can't get any more time away from
the bank. I guess we'll have to depend on dad."
But, to the surprise of Tom and Mr. Sharp, the aged inventor shook his
head when the subject was broached to him next day.
"Why won't you go, dad?" asked his son.
"I'll tell you," replied Mr. Swift. "I was keeping it a secret until I
had made some advance in what I am engaged upon. But I don't want to
go because I am on the verge of perfecting a new apparatus for
submarine boats. It will revolutionize travel under the water, and I
don't want to leave home until I finish it. There is another point to
be considered. The government has offered a prize for an under-water
boat of a new type, and I wish to try for it."
"So that's what you've been working on, eh, dad?" asked his son.
"That's it, and, much as I should like to accompany you, I don't feel
free to go. My mind would be distracted, and I need to concentrate
myself on this invention. It will produce the most wonderful results,
I'm sure. Besides, the government prize is no small one. It is fifty
thousand dollars for a successful boat."
Mr. Swift told something more about his submarine, but, as I expect to
treat of that in another book, I will not dwell on it here, as I know
you are anxious to learn what happened on the trip of the Red Cloud.
"Well," remarked Mr. Sharp, somewhat dubiously, "I wonder who we can
get to go? We need someone besides you and I, Tom."
"I s'pose I could get Eradicate Sampson, and his mule Boomerange,"
replied the lad with a smile. "Yet I don't know-"
At that instant there was a tremendous racket outside. The loud
puffing of an automobile could be heard, but mingled with it was the
crash of wood, and then the whole house seemed jarred and shaken.
"Is it an earthquake?" exclaimed Mr. Swift, springing to his feet, and
rushing to the library windows.
"Something's happened!" cried Tom.
"Maybe an explosion of the airship gas!" yelled Mr. Sharp, making
ready to run to the balloon shed. But there was no need. The crashing
of wood ceased, and, above the puffing of an auto could be heard a
voice exclaiming
"Bless my very existence! Bless my cats and dogs! Good gracious! But I
never meant to do this!"
Tom, his father and Mr. Sharp rushed to the long, low windows that
opened on the veranda. There, on the porch, which it had mounted by
way of the steps, tearing away part of the railing, was a large
touring car; and, sitting at the steering wheel, in a dazed sort of
manner, was Mr. Wakefield Damon.
"Bless my shirt studs!" he went on feebly. "But I have done it now!"
"What's the matter?" cried Tom, hastening up to him. "What happened?
Are you hurt?"
"Hurt? Not a bit of it! Bless my moonstone!
It's the most lucky escape I ever had! But I've damaged your porch,
and I haven't done my machine any good. Do you see anything of another
machine chasing me?"
Tom looked puzzled, but glanced up and down, the road. Far down the
highway could be discerned a cloud of dust, and, from the midst of it
came a faint "chug-chug."
"Looks like an auto down there," he said.
"Thank goodness! Bless my trousers, but I've escaped 'em!" cried the
eccentric man from whom Tom had purchased his motor-cycle.
"Escaped who?" asked Mr. Swift.
"Those men. They were after me. But I may as well get out and explain.
Dear me! However will I ever get my car off your porch?" and Mr. Damon
seemed quite distressed.
"Never mind," answered Tom. "We can manage that. Tell us what
happened."
"Exactly," replied Mr. Damon, growing calmer, "Bless my shoe buttons,
but I had a fright, two of them, in fact.
"You see," he went on, "I was out partly on pleasure and partly on
business. The pleasure consisted in riding in my auto, which my
physician recommended for my health. The business consisted in
bringing to the Shopton Bank a large amount of cash. Well, I deposited
it all right, but, as I came out I saw some men hanging around. I
didn't like their looks, and I saw them eyeing me rather sharply. I
thought I had seen them before and, sure enough I had. Two of the men
belonged to that Happy Harry gang. I".
Tom made a quick motion of a caution, pointing to his father, but it
was not necessary, as Mr. Swift was absently-mindedly calculating an a
piece of paper he had taken from his pocket, and had not heard what
Mr. Damon said. The latter, however, knew what Tom meant, and went on.
"Well, I didn't like the looks of these men, and when I saw them
sizing me up, evidently thinking I had drawn money out instead of
putting it in, I decided to give them the slip. I got in my auto, but
I was startled to see them get in their car. I headed for here, as I
was coming to pay you a visit, anyhow, and the mysterious men kept
after me. It became a regular race. I put on all the speed I could and
headed for your house, Tom, for I thought you would help me. I went
faster and faster, and so did they. They were almost up to me, and I
was just thinking of slowing down to turn in here, when I lost control
of my machine, and-well, I did turn in here, but not exactly as I
intended. Bless my gaiters! I came in with rather more of a rush than
I expected. It was awful-positively awful, I assure you. You've no
idea how nervous I was. But I escaped those scoundrels, for they
rushed on when they saw what I had done-smashed the porch railing".
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