Building the Sky Racer
"What will you do, if, after you have your little monoplane all constructed, and get ready to race, you find that some one else has one exactly like it at the meet?," asked Ned Newton one day, when he and Tom were out in the big workshop, talking things over."What will you do, Tom?""I don't see that there is anything I can do.I'll go on to the meet, of course, and trust to some improvements I have since brought out, and to what I know about aeroplanes, to help me win the race.I'll know, too, who stole my plans.""But it will be too late, then."
"Yes, too late, perhaps, to stop them from using the drawings, hot not too late to punish them for the theft.It's a great mystery, and I'll be on the anxious seat all the while.But it can't be helped.""When are you going to start work on the sky racer?""Pretty soon, now.I've got another set of plans made, and I've fixed them so that if they are stolen it won't do any one any good.""How's that?"
"I've put in a whole lot of wrong figures and measurements, and scores of lines and curves that mean nothing.I have marked the right figures and lines by a secret mark, and when I work on them I'll use only the proper ones.But any one else wouldn't know this.Oh, I'll fool 'em this time!""I hope you do.Well, when you get the machine done I'd like to ride in it.Will it carry two, as your Butterfly does?""Yes, only it will be much different; and, of course, it will go much faster.I'll give you a ride, all right, Ned.Well, now I must get busy and see what material I need for what I hope will prove to be the speediest aeroplane in the world.""That's going some! I must be leaving now.Don't forget your promise.I saw Mary Nestor on my way over here.She was asking for you.She said you must be very busy, for she hadn't seen you in some time.""Um!" was all Tom answered, but by the blush that mounted to his face it was evident that he was more interested in Mary Nestor than his mere exclamation indicated.
When Ned had gone Tom got out pencil and paper, and was busily engaged in making some intricate calculations.He drew odd little sketches on the margin of the sheet, and then wrote out a list of the things he would need to construct the new aeroplane.
This finished, he went to Mr.Jackson, the engineer, and asked him to get the various things together, and to have them put in the special shop where Tom did most of his work.
"I want to get the machine together as soon as I can," he remarked to the engineer, "for it will need to be given a good tryout before I enter in the race, and I may find that I'll have to make several changes in it."Mr.Jackson promised to attend to the matter right away, and then Tom went in to talk to his father about the motor that was to whirl the propeller of the new air craft.
Mr.Swift had improved very much in the past few days, and though Dr.Gladby said he was far from being well, the physician declared there was no reason why he should not do some inventive work.
He and Tom were deep in an argument of gasoline motors, discussing the best manner of attaching the fins to the cylinders to make them air- cooled, when a voice sounded outside, the voice of Eradicate:
"Heah! Whar yo' goin'?" demanded the colored man."Whar yo' goin'?" "Somebody'soutinthegarden!"exclaimedTom,jumpingupsuddenly.
"Perhaps it's the same person who took the plans!" suggested Mr.Swift.
"Hold on, dere!" yelled Eradicate again.Then a voice replied:
"Bless my insurance policy! What's the matter? Have there been burglars around? Why all these precautions? Bless my steam heater! Don't you know me?""Mr.Damon!" cried Tom, a look of pleasure coming over his face."Mr.Damon is coming!""So I should judge," responded Mr.Swift, with a smile."I wonder why Eradicate didn't recognize him?"They learned why a moment later, for on looking from the library window, Tom saw the colored man coming up the walk behind a well- dressed gentleman.
"Why, mah goodness! It's Mr.Damon!" exclaimed Eradicate."I didn't know yo', sah, wif dem whiskers on! I didn't, fo' a fac'!""Bless my razor! I suppose it does make a difference," said the eccentric man."Yes, my wife thought I'd look better, and more sedate, with a beard, so I grew one to please her.But I don't like it.A beard is too warm this kind of weather; eh, Tom?" And Mr.Damon waved his hand to the young inventor and his father, who stood in the low windows of the library."Entirely too warm, bless my finger- nails, yes!""I agree with you!" exclaimed Tom."Come in! We're glad to see you!" "I called to see if you aren't going on another trip to the North Pole, orsomewhere in the Arctic regions," went on Mr.Damon."Why?" inquired Tom.
"Why, then this heavy beard of mine would come in handy.It would keep my throat and chin warm." And Mr.Damon ran his hands through his luxuriant whiskers.
