Mr. Sharp pushed his way through the crowd.  
"The committee has the certified¹ check ready for you, Tom," called the balloonist. "Will you come and get it?"
 
"Send it to me, please," answered the young inventor. "I must go to my father."
 
"Huh! I'd have beaten him in another round," boasted Andy Foger. No one paid any attention to him.
 
"Monsieur ezz plucky²!" said the Frenchman, Perique. "I am honaired to shake his hand! He has broken all ze records!"
 
"Dot's der best machine I effer saw," spoke³ the Dutchman, De Tromp, ponderously⁴. "Shake hands!"
 
"Ver' fine, ver' good!" came from the little Japanese, and all the contestants⁵ congratulated Tom warmly. Never before had a hundred miles been covered so speedily.
 
A man elbowed his way through the press of people.
 
"Is your machine fully⁶ protected by patents?" he inquired earnestly.
 
"It is," said Tom.
 
"Then, as a representative of the United States Government, I would like an option to purchase the exclusive right to use them," said the man. "Can you guarantee that no one else has any plans of them? It will mean a fortune to you."
 
Tom hesitated. He thought of the stolen plans. If he could only get possession of them! He glanced at Andy Foger, who was wheeling his machine back into the tent. But there was no time now to have it out with the bully⁷.
 
"I will see you again," said Tom to the government agent. "I must go to my father, who is dying. I can't answer you now."
 
The tanks were filled. Tom gave a hasty look to his machine, and, bidding his new friends farewell, he and Mr. Damon took their places aboard the Humming-Bird. The little craft rose in the air, and soon they had left Eagle Park far behind. Eagerly Tom strained his eyes for a sight of his home town, though he knew it would be several hours ere he could hover⁸ over it.
 
Would he be in time? Would he be in time? That question came to him again and again.
 
For a time the Humming-Bird skimmed along as though she delighted in the rapid motion, in slipping through the air and sliding along on the billows of wind. Tom, with critical ears, listened to the hum of the motor, the puffing⁹ of the exhaust, the grinding of the gear wheels, and the clicking of the trips, as valve after valve opened or closed to admit the mixture of air and gasoline, or closed to give the compression necessary for the proper explosion.
 
"Is she working all right?" asked Mr. Damon, anxiously, and, such was the strain on him that he did not think to bless anything. "Is she all right, Tom, my lad?"
 
"I think so. I'm speeding her to the limit. Faster than I ever did before, but I guess she'll do. She was built to stand a strain, and she's got to do it now!"
 
Then there was silence again, as they slid along through the air like a coaster gliding¹⁰ down a steep descent.
 
"It was a great race, wasn't it?" asked Mr. Damon, as he shifted to an easier position in his seat. "A great race, Tom. I didn't think you'd do it, one spell there."
 
"Neither did I," came the answer, as the young inventor changed the spark lever. "But I made up my mind I wouldn't be beaten by Andy Foger, if I could help it. Though it was taking a risk to shut off the current the way I did."
 
"A risk?"
 
"Yes; it might not have started again," and Tom looked down at the earth below them, as if measuring the distance he would have fallen had not his sky racer kept on at the critical moment.
 
"And—and if the current hadn't come on again; eh, Tom? Would we—?"
 
Mr. Damon did not finish, but Tom knew what he meant.
 
"It would have been all up with us," he said simply. "I might have volplaned back to earth, but at the speed we were going, and at the height, around a curve, we might have turned turtle."
 
"Bless my—!" began Mr. Damon, and then he stopped. The thought of Tom's trouble came to him, and he realized that his words might grate on the feelings of his companion.
 
On they rushed through the air with the Humming-Bird speeded up faster and faster as she warmed to her task. The machinery¹¹ seemed to be working perfectly¹², and as Tom listened to the hum a look of pleasure replaced the look of anxiety on his face.
 
"Don't you think we'll make it?" asked Mr. Damon, after another pause, during which they passed over a large city, the inhabitants exhibiting much excitement as they sighted the airship over their heads.
 
"We've got to make it!" declared Tom between his clenched¹³ teeth.
 
He turned on a little more gasoline, and there was a spurt¹⁴ in their speed which made Mr. Damon grasp the upright braces¹⁵ near him with firm hands, and his face became a little paler.
 
"It's all right," spoke Tom, reassuringly¹⁶. "There's no danger."
 
But Tom almost reckoned without his host, for a few moments later, as he was trying to get more revolutions out of the propellers¹⁷, he ran into an adverse¹⁸ current of air.
 
In an instant the Humming-Bird was tilted¹⁹ up almost on her "beams' ends," so to speak, and had it not been that the young inventor quickly warped²⁰ the wing tips, to counteract²¹ the pressure on one side, there might have been a different end to this story.
 
"Bless my——!" began Mr. Damon, but he got no further, for he had to bend his body as Tom did, to equalize the pressure of the wind current.
 
"A little farther over!" yelled the lad. "A little farther over this way, Mr. Damon!"
 
"But if I come any more toward you I'll be out of my seat!" objected the eccentric man.
 
"If you don't you'll be out of the aeroplane!" cried Tom grimly, and his companion leaned over as far as he could until the young pilot had brought the craft to an even keel again.
 
Then Tom speeded up the motor, which he had partly shut down as they passed through the danger zone, and again they were racing²² through space.
 
They were nearing Shopton now, as the lad and Mr. Damon could tell by the familiar landmarks²³ which loomed²⁴ up in sight. Tom strained his eyes for the first view of his home.
 
Suddenly, as they were skimming along, there came a cessation of the hum and roar that told of the perfectly-working motor. It was an ominous²⁵ silence.
 
"What's—what's wrong?" gasped²⁶ Mr. Damon.
 
"Something's given way," answered Tom quickly. "I'm afraid the magneto isn't sparking as it ought to."
 
"Well, can't we volplane back to earth?" asked the odd man, for he had become familiar with this feat²⁷ when anything happened to the motor.
 
"We could," answered Tom, "but I'm not going to."
 
"Why not?"
 
"Because we're too far from Shopton—and dad! I'm going to keep on. I've got to—if I want to be there in time!"
 
"But if the motor doesn't work?"
 
"I'll make her work!"
 
Tom was desperately²⁸ manipulating the various levers and handles connected with the electrical ignition system. He tried in vain to get the magneto to res............