Tom Swift and His Airship

V >> Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift and His Airship

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"Then we'll have to avoid them," declared the balloonist.

"But we must go back," declared Tom.

"Of course. Back to be vindicated. We'll have to give up our trip. My,
my! But this is a surprise!"

"I don't see what makes Andy say he saw me with burglar tools,"
commented Tom, with a puzzled air.

Mr. Sharp thought for a moment. Then he exclaimed "It was that bag of
tools I sent you after-the long wrenches, the pliers, and the brace
and bits.You "

"Of course!" cried Tom. "I remember now. The bag dropped and opened,
and Andy and Sam saw the tools. But the idea of taking them for
burglar tools!"

"Well, I suppose the burglars, whoever they were, did use tools
similar to those to break open the vault," put in Mr. Damon. "Andy
probably thought he was a smart lad to put the police on our track."

"I'll put him on the track, when I return," declared Mr. Sharp. "Well,
now, what's to be done?"

"We've got to have food," suggested Tom.

"Yes, but I think we can manage that. I've been looking over the ship,
as best I could in the dark. It seems to be all right. We can start
early in the morning without anyone around here knowing we paid their
town a visit. You and Mr. Damon go back to town, Tom, and order some
stuff. Have the man leave it by the roadside early to-morrow morning.
Tell him it's for some travelers, who will stop and pick it up. Pay
him well, and tell him to keep quiet, as it's for a racing party.
That's true enough. We're going to race home to vindicate our
reputations. I think that will be all right."

"The man may get suspicious," said Mr. Damon.

"I hope not," answered the balloonist. "We've got to take a chance,
anyhow."

The plan worked well, however, the store keeper promising to have the
supplies on hand at the time and place mentioned. He winked as Tom
asked him to keep quiet about it.

"Oh, I know yo' automobile fellers," he said with a laugh. "You want
to get some grub on the fly, so you won't have to stop, an' can beat
th' other fellow. I know you, fer I see them automobile goggles
stickin' out of your pocket."

Tom and Mr. Damon each had a pair, to use when the wind was strong,
but the young inventor had forgotten about his. They now served him a
good turn, for they turned the thoughts of the storekeeper into a new
channel. The lad let it go at that, and, paying for such things as he
and Mr. Damon could not carry, left the store.

The aeronauts passed an uneasy night. They raised their ship high in
the air, anchoring it by a rope fast to a big tree, and they turned on
no lights, for they did not want to betray their position. They
descended before it was yet daylight, and a little later hurried to
the place where the provisions were left. They found their supplies
safely on hand, and, carrying them into the airship, prepared to turn
back to Shopton.

As the ship rose high in the air a crowd of negro laborers passing
through a distant field, saw it. At once they raised a commotion,
shouting and pointing to the wonderful sight.

"We're discovered!" cried Tom.

"No matter," answered Mr. Sharp. "We'll soon be out of sight, and
we'll fly high the rest of this trip."

Tom looked down on the fast disappearing little hamlet, and he thought
of the pretty girl in the restaurant.

Chapter 19 - Wrecked

With her nose headed north, the Red Cloud swung along through the air.
Those on board were thinking of many things, but chief among them was
the unjust accusation that had been made against them, by an
irresponsible boy-the red-haired Andy Foger. They read the account in
the paper again, seeking to learn from it new things at each perusal.

"It's just a lot of circumstantial evidence that's what it is," said
Tom. "I admit it might look suspicious to anyone who didn't know us,
but Andy Foger has certainly done the most mischief by his
conclusions. Burglar tools! The idea!"

"I think I shall sue the bank for damages," declared Mr. Damon. "They
have injured my reputation by making this accusation against me.
Anyhow, I'll certainly never do any more business with them, and I'll
withdraw my ten thousand dollars deposit, as soon as we get back."

"Mr. Sharp doesn't seem to be accused of doing anything at all,"
remarked Tom, reading the article for perhaps the tenth time.

"Oh, I guess I'm a sort of general all-around bad man, who helped you
burglars to escape with the booty," answered the balloonist, with a
laugh. "I expect to be arrested along with you two."

"But must we be arrested?" inquired Tom anxiously. "I don't like that
idea at all. We haven't done anything."

"This is my plan," went on Mr. Sharp. "We'll get back to Shopton as
quickly as we can. We'll arrive at night, so no one will see us, and,
leaving the airship in some secluded spot, we'll go to the police and
explain matters. We can easily prove that we had nothing to do with
the robbery. Why we were all home the night it happened! Mr. Swift,
Mr. Jackson and Mrs. Baggert can testify to that."

"Yes," agreed Mr. Damon. "I guess they can. Bless my bank book, but
that seems a good plan. We'll follow it."

Proceeding on the plan which they had decided was the best one, the
Red Cloud was sent high into the air. So high up was it that, at
tunes, a was above the clouds. Though this caused some little
discomfort at first, especially to Mr. Damon, he soon became used to
it, as did the others. And it had the advantage of concealing them
from the persons below who might be on the lookout.

"For we don't want to be shot at again," explained Mr. Sharp. "It
isn't altogether healthy, and not very safe. If we keep high up they
can't see us; much less shoot at us. They'll take us for some big
bird. Then, too, we can go faster."

"I suppose there will be another alarm sent out, from those negroes
having sighted us," ventured Tom.

"Oh, yes, but those colored fellows were so excited they may describe
us as having horns, hoofs and a tail, and their story may not be
believed. I'm not worrying about them. My chief concern is to drive
the Red Cloud for all she is worth. I want to explain some things back
there in Shopton."

As if repenting of the way it had misbehaved over the forest fire, the
airship was now swinging along at a rapid rate. Seated in the cabin
the travelers would have really enjoyed the return trip had it not
been for the accusation hanging over them. The weather was fine and
clear, and as they skimmed along, now and then coming out from the
clouds, they caught glimpses below them of the earth above which they
were traveling. They had a general idea of their location, from
knowing the town where the paper had given them such astounding news,
and it was easy to calculate their rate of progress.

After running about a hundred miles or so, at high speed Mr. Sharp
found it necessary to slow down the motor, as some of the new bearings
were heating. Still this gave them no alarm, as they were making good
time. They came to a stop that night, and calculated that by the next
evening, or two at the latest, they would be back in Shopton. But they
did not calculate on an accident.

One of the cylinders on the big motor cracked, as they started up next
morning, and for some hours they had to hang in the air, suspended by
the gas in the container, while Mr. Sharp and Tom took out the damaged
part, and put in a spare one, the cylinders being cast separately. It
was dusk when they finished, and too late to start up, so they
remained about in the same place until the next day.

Morning dawned with a hot humidness, unusual at that time of the year,
but partly accounted for by the fact that they were still within the
influence of the southern climate. With a whizz the big propellers
were set in motion, and, with Tom at the wheel, the ship being about
three miles in the air, to which height it had risen after the repairs
were made, the journey was recommenced.

"It's cooler up here than down below," remarked Tom, as he shifted the
wheel and rudder a bit, in response to a gust of wind, that heeled the
craft over.

"Yes, I think we're going to have a storm," remarked Mr. Sharp, eyeing
the clouds with a professional air. "We may run ahead of it, or right
into it. We'll go down a bit, toward night, when there's less danger
of being shot."

So far, on their return trip, they had not been low enough, in the day
time, to be in any danger from persons who hoped to earn the five
thousand dollars reward.

The afternoon passed quickly, and it got dark early. There was a
curious hum to the wind, and, hearing it, Mr. Sharp began to go about
the ship, seeing that everything was fast and taut.

"We're going to have a blow," he remarked, "and a heavy one, too.
We'll have to make everything snug, and be ready to go up or down, as
the case calls for."

"Up or down?" inquired Mr. Damon.

"Yes. By rising we may escape the blow, or, by going below the strata
of agitated air, we may escape it."

"How about rain?"

"Well, you can get above rain, but you can't get below it, with the
law of gravitation working as it does at present. How's the gas
generator, Tom?"

"Seems to be all right," replied the young inventor, who had
relinquished the wheel to the balloonist.

They ate an early supper, and, hardly had the dishes been put away,
when from the west, where there was a low-flying bank of clouds, there
came a mutter of thunder. A little later there was a dull, red
illumination amid the rolling masses of vapor.

"There's the storm, and she's heading right this way," commented Mr.
Sharp.

"Can't you avoid it?" asked Mr. Damon, anxiously.

"I could, if I knew how high it was, but I guess we'll wait and see
how it looks as we get closer."

The airship was flying on, and the storm, driven by a mighty wind, was
rushing to meet it. Already there was a sighing, moaning sound in the
wire and wooden braces of the Red Cloud.

Suddenly there came such a blast that it heeled the ship over on her
side.

"Shift the equilibrium rudders!" shouted Mr. Sharp to Tom, turning the
wheel and various levers over to the lad. "I'm going to get more speed
out of the motor!"

Tom acted just in time, and, after bobbing about like a cork on the
water, the ship was righted, and sent forging ahead, under the
influence of the propellers worked at top speed. Nor was this any too
much, for it needed all the power of the big engine to even partially
overcome the force of the wind that was blowing right against the Red
Cloud. Of course they might have turned and flown before it, but they
wanted to go north, not south-they wanted to face their accusers.

Then, after the first fury of the blast had spent itself, there came a
deluge of rain, following a dazzling glare of lightning and a bursting
crash of thunder.

In spite of the gale buffeting her, the airship was making good
progress. The skill of Tom and the balloonist was never shown to
better advantage. All around them the storm raged, but through it the
craft kept on her way. Nothing could be seen but pelting sheets of
water and swirling mist, yet onward the ship was driven.

The thunder was deafening, and the lightning nearly blinded them,
until the electrics were switched on, flooding the cabin with
radiance. Inside the car they were snug and dry, though the pitching
of the craft was like that of a big liner in the trough of the ocean
waves.

"Will she weather it, do you think?" called Mr. Damon, in the ear of
Mr. Sharp, shouting so as to be heard above the noise of the elements,
and the hum of the motor.

The balloonist nodded.

"She's a good ship," he answered proudly.

Hardly had he spoken when there came a crash louder than any that had
preceded, and the flash of rosy light that accompanied it seemed to
set the whole heavens on fire. At the same time there was violent
shock to the ship.

"We're hit! Struck by lightning!" yelled Tom.

"We're falling!" cried Mr. Damon an instant later.

Mr. Sharp looked at the elevation gauge. The hand was slowly swinging
around. Down, down dropped the Red Cloud. She was being roughly
treated by the storm.

"I'm afraid we're wrecked!" said the balloonist in a low voice,
scarcely audible above the roar of the tempest. Following the great
crash had come a comparatively light bombardment from the sky
artillery.

"Use the gliding rudder, Tom," called Mr. Sharp, a moment later. "We
may fall, but we'll land as easily as possible."

The wind, the rain, the lightning and thunder continued. Down, down
sank the ship. Its fall was somewhat checked by the rudder Tom swung
into place, and by setting the planes at a different angle. The motor
had been stopped, and the propellers no longer revolved. In the
confusion and darkness it was not safe to run ahead, with the danger
of oolliding with unseen objects on the earth.

They tried to peer from the windows, but could see nothing. A moment
later, as they stared at each other with fear in their eyes, there
came a shock. The ship trembled from end to end.

"We've landed!" cried Tom, as he yanked back on the levers. The
airship came to a stop.

"Now to see where we are," said Mr. Sharp grimly, "and how badly we
are wrecked."

Chapter 20 - Tom Gets A Clue

Out of the cabin of the now stationary airship hurried the three
travelers; out into the pelting rain, which was lashed into their
faces by the strong wind. Tom was the first to emerge.

"We're on something solid!" he cried, stamping his feet. "A rock, I
guess."

"Gracious, I hope we're not on a rock in the midst of a river!"
exclaimed Mr. Damon. "Bless my soul, though! The water does seem to be
running around my ankles."

"There's enough rain to make water run almost up to our necks," called
Mr. Sharp, above the noise of the storm. "Tom, can you make out where
we are?"

"Not exactly. Is the ship all right?"

"I can't see very well, but there appears to be a hole in the gas
container. A big one, too, or we wouldn't have fallen so quickly."

The plight of the travelers of the air was anything but enviable. They
were wet through, for it needed only a few minutes exposure to the
pelting storm to bring this about. They could not tell, in the midst
of the darkness, where they were, and they almost feared to move for
fear they might be on top of some rock or precipice, over which they
might tumble if they took a false step.

"Let's get back inside the ship," proposed Mr. Damon. "It's warm and
dry there, at all events. Bless my umbrella, I don't know when I've
been so wet!"

"I'm not going in until I find out where we are," declared Tom. "Wait
a minute, and I'll go in and get an electric flash lantern. That will
show us," for the lightning had ceased with the great crash that
seemed to have wrecked the Red Cloud. The rain still kept up, however,
and there was a distant muttering of thunder, while it was so black
that had not the lights in the cabin of the airship been faintly
glowing they could hardly have found the craft had they moved ten feet
away from it.

Tom soon returned with the portable electric lamp, operated by dry
batteries. He flashed it on the surface of where they were standing,
and uttered an exclamation.

"We're on a roof!" he cried.

"A roof?" repeated Mr. Damon.

"Yes; the roof of some large building, and what you thought was a
river is the rain water running off it. See!"

The young inventor held the light down so his companions could observe
the surface of that upon which the airship rested. There was no doubt
of it. They were on top of a large building.

"If we're on a roof we must be in the midst of a city," objected Mr.
Damon. "But I can't see any lights around, and we would see them if we
were in a city, you know."

"Maybe the storm put the lights out of business," suggested Mr. Sharp.
"That often occurs."

"I know one way we can find out for certain," went on Tom.

"How?"

"Start up our search lamp, and play it all around. We can't make sure
how large this roof is in the dark, and it's risky trying to trace the
edges by walking around."

"Yes, and it would be risky to start our searchlight going," objected
Mr. Sharp. "People would see it, and there'd be a crowd up here in
less than no time, storm or no storm. No, we've got to keep dark until
I can see what's the matter. We must leave here before daylight."

"Suppose we can't?" asked Mr. Damon. "The crowds will be sure to see
us then, anyhow."

"I am pretty sure we can get away," was the opinion of the balloonist.
"Even if our gas container is so damaged that it will not sustain us,
we are still an aeroplane, and this roof being flat will make a good
place to start from. No, we can leave as soon as this storm lets up a
little."

"Then I'm going to have a look and find out what sort of a building
this is," declared Tom, and, while Mr. Sharp began a survey, as well
as he could in the dark, of the airship, the young inventor proceeded
cautiously to ascertain the extent of the roof.

The rain was not coming down quite so hard now, and Tom found it
easier to see. Mr. Damon, finding he could do nothing to help, went
back into the cabin, blessing himself and his various possessions at
the queer predicament in which they found themselves.

Flashing his light every few seconds, Tom walked on until he came to
one edge of the roof. It was very large, as he could judge by the time
it took him to traverse it. There was a low parapet at the edge. He
peered over, and an expanse of dark wall met his eyes.

"Must have come to one side," he reasoned. "I want to get to the
front. Then, maybe, I can see a sign that will tell me what I want to
know."

The lad turned to the left, and, presently came to another parapet. It
was higher, and ornamented with terra-cotta bricks. This, evidently,
was the front. As Tom peered over the edge of the little raised ledge,
there flashed out below him hundreds of electric lights. The city
illuminating plant was being repaired. Then Tom saw flashing below him
one of those large signs made of incandescent lights. It was in front
of the building, and as soon as our hero saw the words he knew where
the airship had landed. For what he read, as he leaned over, was this:

MIDDLEVILLE ARCADE

Tom gave a cry.

"What's the matter?" called Mr. Sharp.

"I've discovered something," answered Tom, hurrying up to his friend.
"We're on top of the Middleville Arcade building."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that we're not so very far from home, and in the midst of a
fairly large city. But it means more than that."

"What?" demanded the balloonist, struck by an air of excitement about
the lad, for, as Tom stood in the subdued glow of the lights from one
of the airship's cabin windows, all the others having been darkened as
the storm slackened, his, eyes shone brightly.

"This is the building where Anson Morse, one of the gang that robbed
dad, once had an office," went on Tom eagerly. "That was brought out
at the trial. And it's the place where they used to do some of their
conspiring. Maybe some of the crowd are here now laying low."

"Well, if they are, we don't want anything to do with that gang," said
Mr. Sharp. "We can't arrest them. Besides I've found out that our ship
is all right, after all. We can proceed as soon as we like. There is
only a small leak in the gas container. It was the generator machine
that was put out of business by the lightning, and I've repaired it."

"I want to see if I can get any trace of the rascals. Maybe I could
learn something from the janitor of the Arcade about them. The janitor
is probably here."

"But why do you want to get any information about that gang?"

"Because," answered Tom, and, as Mr. Damon at that moment started to
come from the cabin of the airship, the lad leaped forward and
whispered the remainder of the sentence into the ear of the
balloonist.

"You don't mean it!" exclaimed Mr. Sharp, in a tense whisper. Tom
nodded vigorously.

"But how can you enter the building?" asked the other. "You can't drop
over the edge."

"Down the scuttle," answered Tom. "There must be one on the roof, for
they have to come up here at times. We can force the lock, if
necessary. I want to enter the building and see where Morse had his
office."

"All right. Go ahead. I'll engage Mr. Damon here so he won't follow
you. It will be great news for him. Go ahead."

Under pretense of wanting the help of the eccentric man in completing
the repairs he had started, Mr. Sharp took Mr. Damon back into the
cabin. Tom, getting a big screwdriver from an outside toolbox,
approached the scuttle on the roof. He could see it looming up in the
semidarkness, a sort of box, covering a stairway that led down into
the building. The door was locked, but Tom forced it, and felt
justified. A few minutes later, cautiously flashing his light, almost
like a burglar he thought, he was prowling around the corridors of the
office structure.

Was it deserted? That was what he wanted to know. He knew the office
Morse had formerly occupied was two floors from the top. Tom descended
the staircase, trying to think up some excuse to offer, in case he met
the watchman or janitor. But he encountered no one. As he reached the
floor where he knew Morse and his gang were wont to assemble, he
paused and listened. At first he heard nothing, then, as the sound of
the storm became less he fancied he heard the murmur of voices.

"Suppose it should be some of them?" whispered Tom.

He went forward, pausing at almost every other step to listen. The
voices became louder. Tom was now nearly at the office, where Morse
had once had his quarters. Now he could see it, and his heart gave a
great thump as he noticed that the place was lighted. The lad could
read the name on the door. "Industrial Development Company." That was
the name of a fake concern headed by Morse. As our hero looked he saw
the shadows of two men thrown on the ground glass.

"Some one's in there!" he whispered to himself. He could now hear the
voices much plainer. They came from the room, but the lad could not
distinguish them as belonging to any of the gang with whom he had come
in contact, and who had escaped from jail.

The low murmur went on for several seconds.

The listener could make out no words. Suddenly the low, even mumble
was broken. Some one cried out "There's got to be a divvy soon.
There's no use letting Morse hold that whole seventy-five thousand any
longer. I'm going to get what's coming to me, or-"

"Hush!" some one else cried. "Be quiet!"

"No, I won't! I want my share. I've waited long enough. If I don't get
what's coming to me inside of a week, I'll go to Shagmon myself and
make Morse whack up. I helped on the job, and I want my money!"

"Will you be quiet?" pleaded another, and, at that instant Tom heard
some one's hand on the knob. The door opened a crack, letting out a
pencil of light. The men were evidently coming out. The young inventor
did not wait to hear more. He had a clue now, and, running on tiptoes,
he made his way to the staircase and out of the scuttle on the roof.

Chapter 21 - On The Trail

"What's the matter, Tom?" asked Mr. Sharp, as the lad came hurrying
along the roof, having taken the precaution to fasten the scuttle door
as well as he could. "You seem excited.""So would you, if you had
heard what I did."

"What? You don't mean that some of the gang is down there?"

"Yes, and what's more I'm on the trail of the thieves who robbed the
Shopton Bank of the seventy-five thousand dollars!"

"No! You don't mean it!"

"I certainly do."

"Then we'd better tell Mr. Damon. He's in the cabin."

"Of course I'll tell him. He's as much concerned as I am. He wants to
be vindicated. Isn't it great luck, though?"

"But you haven't landed the men yet. Do you mean to say that the same
gang-the Happy Harry crowd-robbed the bank?"

"I think so, from what I heard. But come inside and I'll tell you all
about it."

"Suppose we start the ship first? It's ready to run. There wasn't as
much the matter with it as I feared. The storm is over now, and we'll
be safer up in the air than on this roof. Did you get all the
information you could?"

"All I dared to. The men were coming out, so I had to run. They were
quarreling, and when that happens among thieves-"

"Why honest men get their dues, everyone knows that proverb,"
interrupted Mr. Damon, again emerging from the cabin. "But bless my
quotation marks, I should think you'd have something better to do than
stand there talking proverbs."

"We have," replied Mr. Sharp quickly. "We're going to start the ship,
arid then we have some news for you. Tom, you take the steering wheel,
and I'll start the gas machine. We'll rise to some distance before
starting the propellers, and then we won't create any excitement."

"But what news are you going to tell me?" asked Mr. Damon. "Bless my
very existence, but you get me all excited, and then you won't gratify
my curiosity."

"In a little while we will," responded Mr. Sharp. Lively now, Tom.
Some one may see this airship on top of the building, as it's getting
so much lighter now, after the storm."

The outburst of the elements was almost over and Tom taking another
look over the edge of the roof, could see persons moving about in the
street below. The storm clouds were passing and a faint haze showed
where a moon would soon make its appearance, thus disclosing the craft
so oddly perched upon the roof. There was need of haste.

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