Tom Swift and his Wireless Message

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"Perhaps, if they are shipwrecked, Mr. Swift will go to their rescue
in one of his airships, or a submarine," suggested Mabel Jackson,
one of the several pretty girls.

"Oh, I hope he doesn't have to!" exclaimed Mary. "Don't speak of
shipwrecks! It makes me shudder," and she seemed unduly alarmed.

"Of course they won't have any trouble," asserted Tom, confidently,
more to reassure Miss Nestor, than from any knowledge he possessed;
"but if they do get cast away on a desert island, I'll certainly go
to their rescue," he added.

It was late when Tom started for home that night, for the society of
Miss Nestor and her friends made the time pass quickly. He promised
to call again, and try some more samples of the new cook's culinary
art, as soon as he had gotten Mr. Fenwick's airship in shape for
flying.

As, later that night, the young inventor came in sight of his home,
and the various buildings and shops surrounding it, his first glance
was toward the shed which contained his monoplane, BUTTERFLY. That
little craft was Tom's pet. It had not cost him anything like as
much as had his other inventions, either in time or money, but he
cared more for it than for his big airship, RED CLOUD. This was
principally because the BUTTERFLY was so light and airy, and could
be gotten ready so quickly for a flight across country. It was
capable of long endurance, too, for an extra large supply of
gasolene and oil was carried aboard.

So it was with rather a start of surprise that Tom saw a light in
the structure where the BUTTERFLY was housed.

"I wonder if dad or Mr. Jackson can be out there?" he mused. "Yet, I
don't see why they should be. They wouldn't be going for a flight at
night. Or perhaps Mr. Damon arrived, and is out looking it over."

A moment's reflection, however, told Tom that this last surmise
could not be true, since the eccentric man had telegraphed, saying
he would not arrive until the next day.

"Somebody's out there, however," went on Tom, "and I'm going to see
who it is. I hope it isn't Eradicate monkeying with the monoplane.
He's very curious, and he might get it out of order."

Tom increased his pace, and moved swiftly but softly toward the
shed. If there was an intruder inside he wanted to surprise him.
There were large windows to the place, and they would give a good
view of the interior. As Tom approached, the light within flickered,
and moved to and fro.

Tom reached one of the casements, and peered in. He caught a glimpse
of a moving figure, and he heard a peculiar ripping sound. Then, as
he sprang toward the front door, the light suddenly went out, and
the young inventor could hear some one running from the shop.

"They've seen me, and are trying to get away," thought the lad. "I
must catch them!"

He fairly leaped toward the portal, and, just as he reached it, a
figure sprang out. So close was Tom that the unknown collided with
him, and our hero went over on his back. The other person was tossed
back by the force of the impact, but quickly recovered himself, and
dashed away.

Not before, however, Tom had had a chance to glance at his face,
and, to the chagrin of the young inventor, he recognized, by the dim
light of a crescent moon, the countenance of Andy Foger! If
additional evidence was needed Tom fully recognized the form as that
of the town bully.

"Hold on there, Andy Foger!" shouted the young inventor. "What are
you doing in my shed? What right have you in there? What did you
do?"

Back came the answer through the night:

"I told you I'd get square with you. and I've done it," and then
Andy's footsteps died away, while a mocking laugh floated back to
Tom. What was Andy's revenge?

CHAPTER IX

THE WHIZZER FLIES

For a moment, Tom gazed after the fleeting figure of the cowardly
bully. He was half-minded to give pursuit, and then, realizing that
he could find Andy later if he wanted him, the young inventor
decided his best plan would be to see what damage had been done. For
that damage would follow Andy's secret visit to the shop, Tom was
certain.

Nor was his surmise wrong. Stepping into the building, the lad
switched on the lights, and he could not repress an exclamation of
chagrin as he looked toward his trim little monoplane, the
BUTTERFLY.

Now it was a BUTTERFLY with broken wings, for Andy had slashed the
canvas of the planes in a score of places.

"The scoundrel!" growled Tom. "I'll make him suffer for this! He's
all but ruined my aeroplane."

Tom walked around his pet machine. As he came in front, and saw the
propeller, he gave another exclamation. The fine wooden blades of
several layers, gracefully curved, which had cost him so much in
time and labor to build up, and then fashion to the right shape, had
been hacked, and cut with an axe. The propeller was useless!

"More of Andy's work," murmured Tom. "This is about the worst yet!"

There came over him a feeling of great despondency, which was
succeeded by a justifiable rage. He wanted to take after the bully,
and give him a merciless beating. Then a calmer mood came over Tom.

"After all, what's the use?" he reasoned. "Whipping Andy wouldn't
mend the BUTTERFLY. She's in bad shape, but I can repair her, when I
get time. Luckily, he didn't meddle with the engine. That's all
right." A hasty examination had shown this. "I guess I won't do
anything now," went on Tom. "I'll have my hands full getting Mr.
Fenwick's airship to run. After that I can come back here and fix up
my own. It's a good thing I don't have to depend on her for making
the trip to Philadelphia. Poor BUTTERFLY! you sure are in a bad
way," and Tom felt almost as if he was talking to some living
creature, so wrapped up was he in his trim little monoplane.

After another disheartening look at his air craft, the young
inventor started to leave the shop. He looked at a door, the
fastening of which Andy had broken to gain admittance.

"I should have had the burglar alarm working, and this would never
have happened," reasoned Tom. All the buildings were arranged so
that if any one entered them after a certain hour, an alarm would
ring in the house. But of late, the alarm had not been set, as Tom
and his father were not working on any special inventions that
needed guarding. It was due to this oversight that Andy was able to
get in undetected.

"But it won't happen again," declared Tom, and he at once began
connecting the burglar-apparatus. He went into the house, and told
his father and the engineer what had occurred. They were both
indignant, and the engineer declared that he would sleep with one
eye open all night, ready to respond to the first alarm.

"Oh, there's no danger of Andy coming back right away," said Tom.
"He's too frightened. I wouldn't be surprised if he disappeared for
a time. He'll be thinking that I'm after him."

This proved true, as Andy had left town next morning, and to all
inquiries his mother said he had gone to visit relatives. She was
not aware of her son's meanness, and Tom did not tell her.

Mr. Damon arrived from his home in Waterfield that day, and, with
many "blessings," wanted to know if Tom was ready for the trial of
the electrical airship.

"Yes, we'll leave for Philadelphia to-morrow," was the answer.

"Are we going in the BUTTERFLY? Bless my watch chain, but I like
that little machine!"

"It will be some time before you again have a flight in her," said
Tom, sorrowfully, as he told of Andy's act of vandalism.

"Why, bless my individuality!" cried Mr. Damon, indignantly. "I
never heard of such a thing! Never!"

It did little good to talk of it, however, and Tom wanted to forget
about it. He wished he had time to repair the monoplane before he
left home, but there was much to do to get ready for the trial of
the WHIZZER.

"When will you be back, Tom?" asked Mr. Swift, as his son and Mr.
Damon departed for the Quaker City the following morning.

"Hard to say, dad. If I can make a long flight in the WHIZZER I'll
do so. I may even drop down here and pay you a visit. But if I find
there are many more changes to make in her construction, which is
more than likely, I can't say when I'll return. I'll keep you
posted, however, by writing."

"Can't you arrange to send me some wireless messages?" asked the
older inventor, with a smile.

"I could, if I had thought to rig up the apparatus on Mr. Fenwick's
airship," was the reply. "I'll hardly have time to do it now,
though."

"Send wireless messages from an aeroplane?" gasped Mr. Damon. "Bless
my gizzard! I never heard of such a thing!"

"Oh, it can be done," Tom assured him. And this was a fact. Tom had
installed a wireless apparatus on his RED CLOUD recently, and it is
well known that several of the modern biplanes can send wireless
messages. The crossing and bracing wires of the frame are used for
sending wires, and in place of ground conductors there are trailers
which hang below the aeroplane. The current is derived directly from
the engine, and the remaining things needed are a small step-up
transformer, a key and a few other small parts. Tom had gone a step
farther than this, and had also arranged to receive wireless
messages, though few modern aeroplanes are thus equipped as yet.

But, of course, there was no time now to install a wireless
apparatus on Mr. Fenwick's craft. Tom thought he would be lucky if
he got the WHIZZER to make even a short flight.

"Well, let me hear from you when you can," requested Mr. Swift, and
Tom promised. It was some time after that, and many strange things
happened before Tom Swift again communicated with his father, at any
length.

The young inventor had bidden farewell to Miss Nestor the night
previous. She stated that she had a message that day from her
parents aboard the RESOLUTE, which spoke a passing steamer. Mr. and
Mrs. Nestor, and the other guests of Mr. Hosbrook were well, and
anticipated a fine time on reaching the West Indies.

Tom now said good-by to his father, the housekeeper and Mr. Jackson,
not forgetting, of course, Eradicate Sampson.

"Don't let Andy Foger come sneaking around here, Rad," cautioned the
young inventor.

"'Deed an' I won't!" exclaimed the colored man. "Ef he do, I'll hab
Boomerang kick him t' pieces, an' den I'll whitewash him so his own
folks won't know him! Oh, don't you worry, Massa Tom. Dat Andy won't
do no funny business when I'm around!"

Tom laughed, and started for the station with Mr. Damon. They
arrived in Philadelphia that afternoon, the trip being very slow, as
compared with the one made by the monoplane. They found Mr. Fenwick
anxiously awaiting them, and Tom at once started work on the
airship.

He kept at it until late that night, and resumed early the next
morning. Many more changes and adjustments were made, and that
afternoon, the young inventor said:

"I think we'll give it a try-out, Mr. Fenwick."

"Do you mean make a flight?"

"Yes, if she'll take it; but only a short one. I want to get her up
in the air, and see how she behaves."

"Well, if you find out, after you're up, that she does well, you may
want to take a long flight," suggested Mr. Fenwick. "If you do, why
I have everything aboard necessary for a long voyage. The WHIZZER is
well stocked with provisions."

An hour later, the big electric machine was wheeled out into the
yard, for, in spite of her size, four men could easily move the
craft about, so well was she balanced. Aside from a few personal
friends of the inventor, himself, his machinists, Tom and Mr. Damon,
no one was present at the try-out.

Tom, Mr. Damon and Mr. Fenwick climbed into the car which was
suspended below the gas bag, and between the wing-like planes on
either side. The young inventor had decided to make the WHIZZER rise
by scudding her across the ground on the bicycle wheels, with which
she was equipped, and then by using the tilting planes to endeavor
to lift her off the earth. He wanted to see if she would go up that
way, without the use of the gas bag.

All was in readiness. The motor was started and the machinery began
to hum and throb. The propellers gained speed with every revolution.
The airship had been made fast by a rope, to which was attached a
strong spring balance, as it was desired to see how much pull the
engine would give.

"Eight hundred pounds," announced one of the machinists.

"A thousand would be better, but we'll try it," Murmured Tom. "Cast
off!"

The rope was loosened, and, increasing the speed of the engine, Tom
signalled to the men to give a little momentum to the craft. She
began running over the smooth ground. There was a cheer from the few
spectators. Certainly the WHIZZER made good time on the earth.

Tom was anxiously watching the gages and other instruments. He
wanted a little more speed, but could not seem to get it. He ran the
motor to the utmost, and then, seeing the necessity of making an
attempt to get up into the air, before the end of the speeding
ground was reached, he pulled the elevating plane lever.

The front of the WHIZZER rose, and then settled down. Tom quickly
shut off the power, and jammed on the brake, an arrangement of
spikes that dug into the earth, for the high board fence loomed up
before him.

"What's the matter?" cried Mr. Fenwick, anxiously.

"Couldn't get up speed enough," answered the young inventor. "We
must have more momentum to make her rise."

"Can it be gotten?"

"I think so. I'll gear the motor higher."

It took an hour to do this. Once more the scale test was applied. It
registered a pull of fifteen hundred pounds now.

"We'll go up," said Tom, grimly.

Once more the motors spit out fire, and the propellers whirled so
that they looked like mere circles of light. Once more the WHIZZER
shot over the ground, but this time, as she neared the fence, she
rose up like a bird, cleared it like a trick horse, and soared off
into the air!

The WHIZZER was flying!

CHAPTER X

OVER THE OCEAN

"Hurrah!" cried Mr. Fenwick in delight. "My machine is really flying
at last!"

"Yes," answered Tom, as he adjusted various levers and gears, "she
is going. It's not as high as I'd like, but it is doing very well,
considering the weight of the craft, and the fact that we have not
used the gas bag. I'm going to let that fill now, and we'll go up.
Don't you want to steer, Mr. Fenwick?"

"No, you manage it, Tom, until it's in good running shape. I don't
want to 'hoodoo' it. I worked as hard as I could, and never got more
than two feet off the ground. Now I'm really sailing. It's great!"

He was very enthusiastic, and Tom himself was not a little pleased
at his own success, for certainly the airship had looked to be a
very dubious proposition at first.

"Bless my gaiters! But we are doing pretty well," remarked Mr.
Damon, looking down on the field where Mr. Fenwick's friends and the
machinists were gathered, cheering and waving their hands.

"We'll do better," declared Tom.

He had already set the gas machine in operation, and was now looking
over the electric apparatus, to see that it was working well. It
needed some adjustments, which he made.

All this while the WHIZZER was moving about in a big circle, for the
rudder had been automatically set to so swing the craft. It was
about two hundred feet high, but soon after the gas began to enter
the bag it rose until it was nearly five thousand feet high. This
satisfied Tom that the airship could do better than he expected, and
he decided to return nearer earth.

In going down, he put the craft through a number of evolutions
designed to test her ability to answer the rudders promptly. The lad
saw opportunity for making a number of changes, and suggested them
to Mr. Fenwick.

"Are you going any farther?" asked the owner of the WHIZZER, as he
saw that his craft was slowly settling.

"No, I think we've done enough for the first day," said Tom, "But
I'd like you to handle her now, Mr. Fenwick. You can make the
landing, while I watch the motor and other machines."

"Yes. I guess I can make a landing all right," assented the
inventor. "I'm better at coming down than going up."

He did make a good descent, and received the congratulation of his
friends as he stepped from the airship. Tom was also given much
praise for his success in making the craft go at all, for Mr.
Fenwick and his acquaintances had about given up hope that she ever
would rise.

"Well, what do you think of her?" Mr. Fenwick wanted to know of the
young inventor, who replied that, as soon as some further changes
had been made, they would attempt a long flight.

This promise was kept two days later. They were busy days for Tom,
Mr. Fenwick and the latter's assistants. Tom sent a short note to
his father telling of the proposed long flight, and intimated that
he might make a call in Shopton if all went well. He also sent a
wire to Miss Nestor, hinting that she might have some apple
turnovers ready for him.

But Tom never called for that particular pastry, though it was
gotten ready for him when the girl received his message.

All was in readiness for the long flight, and a preliminary test had
demonstrated that the WHIZZER had been wonderfully improved by the
changes Tom made. The young inventor looked over the supply of food
Mr. Fenwick had placed aboard, glanced at the other stores, and
asked:

"How long do you expect to be gone, Mr. Fenwick?"

"Why, don't you think we can stay out a week?"

"That's quite a while," responded Tom. "We may be glad to return in
two days, or less. But I think we're all ready to start. Are any of
your friends going?"

"I've tried to pursuade some of them to accompany me, but they are a
bit timid," said the inventor. "I guess we three will make up the
party this time, though if our trip is a successful one I'll be
overwhelmed with requests for rides, I suppose."

As before, a little crowd gathered to see the start. The day was
warm, but there was a slight haziness which Tom did not like. He
hoped, though, that it would pass over before they had gone far.

"Do you wish to head for any particular spot, Mr. Fenwick?" asked
Tom, as they were entering the cabin.

"Yes, I would like to go down and circle Cape May, New Jersey, if we
could. I have a friend who has a summer cottage there, and he was
always laughing at my airship. I'd just like to drop down in front
of his place now, and pay him a call."

"We'll try it," assented Tom, with a smile.

An auspicious start was made, the WHIZZER taking the air after a
short flight across the ground, and then, with the lifting gas
aiding in pulling the craft upward, the airship started to sail high
over the city of Philadelphia.

So swiftly did it rise that the cheers of the little crowd of Mr.
Fenwick's friends were scarcely heard. Up and up it went, and then a
little later, to the astonishment of the crowds in the streets, Tom
put the airship twice in a circle around the statue of William Penn,
on the top of the City Hall.

"Now you steer," the lad invited Mr. Fenwick. "Take her straight
across the Delaware River, and over Camden, New Jersey, and then
head south, for Cape May. We ought to make it in an hour, for we are
getting up good speed."

Leaving the owner in charge of his craft, to that gentleman's no
small delight, Tom and Mr. Damon began an inspection of the
electrical and other machinery. There was much that needed
attention, but Tom soon had the automatic apparatus in working
order, and then less attention need be given to it.

Several times the young investor looked out of the windows with
which the cabin was fitted. Mr. Damon noticed this.

"Bless my shoe laces, Tom," he said. "What's the matter?"

"I don't like the looks of the weather," was the answer. "I think
we're in for a storm."

"Then let's put back."

"No, it would be too bad to disappoint Mr. Fenwick, now that we have
made such a good start. He wants to make a long flight, and I can't
blame him," spoke Tom, in a low voice.

"But if there's danger--"

"Oh, well, we can soon be at Cape May, and start back. The wind is
freshening rather suddenly, though," and Tom looked at the
anemometer, which showed a speed of twenty miles an hour. However,
it was in their favor, aiding them to make faster time.

The speed of the WHIZZER was now about forty miles an hour, not fast
for an air craft, but sufficiently speedy in trying out a new
machine. Tom looked at the barograph, and noted that they had
attained an altitude of seven thousand five hundred feet.

"That's better than millionaire Daxtel's distance of seven thousand
one hundred and five feet," remarked the lad, with a smile, "and it
breaks Jackson's climb of seven thousand three hundred and three
feet, which is pretty good for your machine, Mr. Fenwick."

"Do you really think so?" asked the pleased inventor.

"Yes. And we'll do better than that in time. but it's best to go
slow at first, until we see how she is standing the strain. This is
high and fast enough for the present."

They kept on, and as Tom saw that the machinery was working well, he
let it out a little, The WHIZZER at once leaped forward, and, a
little later they came within sight of Cape May, the Jersey coast
resort.

"Now to drop down and visit my friend," said Mr. Fenwick, with a
smile. "Won't he be surprised!"

"I don't think we'd better do it," said Tom.

"Why not?"

"Well, the wind is getting stronger every minute and it will be
against us on the way back. If we descend, and try to make another
ascension we may fail. We're up in the air now, and it may be easy
to turn around and go back. Then, again, it may not, but it
certainly will be easier to shift around up here than down on the
ground. So I'd rather not descend--that is, not entirely to the
ground."

"Well, just as you say, though I wanted my friend to know I could
build a successful airship."

"Oh, we can get around that. I'll take her down as low as is safe,
and fly over his house, if you'll point it out, and you can drop him
a message in one of the pasteboard tubes we carry for that purpose."

"That's a good idea," assented Mr. Fenwick. "I'll do it."

Tom sent the WHIZZER down until the hotels and cottages could be
made out quite plainly. After looking with a pair of opera glasses,
Mr. Fenwick picked out the residence of his friend, and Tom prepared
to circle about the roof.

By this time the presence of the airship had become known to
hundreds, and crowds were eagerly watching it.

"There he is! There's my friend who didn't believe I would ever
succeed!" exclaimed Mr. Fenwick, pointing to a man who stood in the
street in front of a large, white house. "I'll drop him a message!"

One was in readiness in a weighted pasteboard cylinder, and soon it
was falling downward. The airship was moving slowly, as it was
beating against the wind.

Leaning out of the cabin window, Mr. Fenwick shouted to his friend:

"Hey, Will! I thought you said my airship would never go! I'll come
and give you a ride, some day!"

Whether the gentleman understood what Mr. Fenwick shouted at him is
doubtful, but he saw the inventor waving his hand, and he saw the
falling cylinder, and a look of astonishment spread over his face,
as he ran to pick up the message.

"We're going up now, and will try to head for home," said Tom, a
moment later, as he shifted the rudder.

"Bless my storage battery!" cried Mr. Damon. "But we have had a fine
trip."

"A much better one than we'll have going back," observed Tom, in a
low voice.

"Why; what's the matter?" asked the eccentric man.

"The wind has increased to a gale, and will be dead against us,"
answered Tom.

Mr. Fenwick was busy writing another message to drop, and he paid
little attention to the young inventor. Tom sent the craft well up
into the air, and then tried to turn it about, and head back for
Philadelphia. No sooner had he done so than the airship was met by
the full force of the wind, which was now almost a hurricane. It had
steadily increased, but, as long as they were moving with it, they
did not notice it so much. Once they attempted to stem its fury they
found themselves almost helpless.

Tom quickly realized this, and, giving up his intention of beating
up against the wind, he turned the craft around, and let it fly
before the gale, the propellers aiding to get up a speed of seventy
miles an hour.

Mr. Fenwick, who had dropped the last of his messages, came from his
small private cabin, to where Mr. Damon and Tom were in a low-voiced
conversation near the engines. The owner of the WHIZZER, happened to
look down through a plate-glass window in the floor of car. What he
saw caused him to give a gasp of astonishment.

"Why--why!" he exclaimed. "We--we're over the ocean."

"Yes," answered Tom, quietly, as he gazed down on the tumbling
billows below them. They had quickly passed over Cape May, across
the sandy beach, and were now well out over the Atlantic.

"Why--why are we out here?" asked Mr. Fenwick. "Isn't it dangerous--
in an airship that hasn't been thoroughly tried yet?"

"Dangerous? Yes, somewhat," replied Tom, slowly. "But we can't help
ourselves, Mr. Fenwick. We can't turn around and go back in this
gale, and we can't descend."

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