There was little time to lose. Every moment of delay meant so much less chance for the recovery of Mr. Swift. Even now the periods of consciousness were becoming shorter and farther apart. He seemed to be sinking.
Tom resolutely1 refused to think of the possibility of death, as he went in to bid his parent good-by before starting off on his trip through the air. Mr. Swift barely knew his son, and, with tears in his eyes, though he bravely tried to keep them back, the young inventor went out into the yard.
There stood the Humming-Bird, with Mr. Jackson, Mr. Damon and Eradicate2 working over her, to get her in perfect trim for the race before her—a race with death.
Fortunately there was little to be done to get the speedy craft ready. Tom had accomplished3 most of what was necessary, while waiting for word from Dr. Hendrix. Now about all that needed to be done was to see that there was plenty of gasoline and oil in the reservoirs.
"I'll give you a note to Dr. Hendrix," said Mr. Gladby, as Tom was fastening on his faceguard. "I—I trust you won't be disappointed, Tom. I hope he will consent to return with you."
"He's got to come," said the young inventor, simply, as if that was all there was to it.
"Do you think you can make the trip in time?" asked Mr. Damon. "It is a little less than a hundred miles in an airline, but you have to go and go back. Can the aeroplane do it?"
"I'd be ashamed of her if she couldn't," said Tom, with a grim tightening4 of his lips. "She's just got to do it; that's all! But I know she will," and he patted the big propeller5 and the motor's shining cylinders6 as though the machine was a thing alive, like a horse or a dog, who could understand him.
He climbed to his seat, the other one holding a bag of sand to maintain a good balance.
"Start her," ordered Tom, and Mr. Jackson twisted the propeller. The motor caught at once, and the air throbbed7 with the noise of the explosions. Tom listened to the tune8 of the machinery9. It sang true.
"Two thousand pounds thrust!" called the engineer, as he looked at the scale.
"Let her go!" cried Tom, whose voice was hardly heard above the roar. The trim little aeroplane scudded10 over the ground, gathering11 speed at every revolution of the wheels. Then with a spring like that of some great bird launching itself in flight, she left the earth, and took to the air. Tom was off on his trip.
Those left behind sent up a cautious cheer, for they did not want to disturb Mr. Swift. They waved their hands to the young inventor, and he waved his in reply. Then he settled down for one of the swiftest flights he had ever undertaken.
Tom ascended12 until he struck a favorable current of air. There was a little wind blowing in the direction he wished to take, and that aided him. But even against a powerful head-wind the Humming-Bird could make progress.
The young inventor saw the ground slipping backward beneath him. Carefully he watched the various indicators13, and listened intently to the sound of the cylinders' explosions. They came rapidly and regularly. The motor was working well.
Tom glanced at the barograph. I............