Tom Swift and His Wireless Message Part 5

"I heard you mention that you knew Mr. Fenwick," replied Tom, with a smile, as he shook hands with Mr. Damon.

"So I do, and, what's more, I'd like to see his airs.h.i.+p. Will your b.u.t.tERFLY carry two pa.s.sengers?"

"Easily. Mr. Damon."

"Then I'll tell you what I'm going to do. If you'll let me I'll take that run to Philadelphia with you!"

"Glad to have you come along," responded Tom, heartily.

"Then I'll go, and, what's more, if Fenwick's s.h.i.+p will rise, I'll go with you in that--bless my deflection rudder if I don't, Tom!"

and puffing up his cheeks, as he exploded these words, Mr. Damon fairly raised himself on his tiptoes, and shook Tom's hand again.

CHAPTER V

VOL-PLANING TO EARTH

For a moment after Mr. Damon's announcement Tom did not reply. Mr.

Swift, too, seemed a little at a loss for something to say. They did not quite know how to take their eccentric friend at times.

"Of course I'll be glad of your company, Mr. Damon," said Tom: "but you must remember that my b.u.t.tERFLY is not like the RED CLOUD. There is more danger riding in the monoplane than there is in the airs.h.i.+p.

In the latter, if the engine happens to stop, the sustaining gas will prevent us from falling. But it isn't so in an aeroplane. When your engine stops there--"

"Well, what happens?" asked Mr. Damon, impatiently, for Tom hesitated.

"You have to vol-plane back to earth."

"Vol-plane?" and there was a questioning note in Mr. Damon's voice.

"Yes, glide down from whatever height you are at when the engine stalls. Come down in a series of dips from the upper currents.

Vol-planing, the French call it, and I guess it's as good a word as any."

"Have you ever done it?" asked the odd character.

"Oh, yes, several times."

"Then, bless my fur overcoat! I can do it, too, Tom. When will you be ready to start?"

"To-morrow morning. Now you are sure you won't get nervous and want to jump, if the engine happens to break down?"

"Not a bit of it. I'll vol-plane whenever you are ready," and Mr.

Damon laughed.

"Well, we'll hope we won't have to," went on Tom. "And I'll be very glad of your company. Mr. Fenwick will, no doubt, be pleased to see you. I've never met him, and it will be nice to have some one to introduce me. Suppose you come out and see what sort of a craft you are doomed to travel in to-morrow, Mr. Damon. I believe you never saw my new monoplane."

"That's right, I haven't, but I'd be glad to. I declare, I'm getting to be quite an aviator," and Mr. Damon chuckled. A little later, Tom, having informed his father of the sending of the message, took his eccentric friend out to the shop, and exhibited the b.u.t.tERFLY.

As many of you have seen the ordinary monoplane, either on exhibition or in flight, I will not take much s.p.a.ce to describe Tom's. Sufficient to say it was modeled after the one in which Bleriot made his first flight across the English channel.

The body was not unlike that of a b.u.t.terfly or dragon fly, long and slender, consisting of a rectangular frame with canvas stretched over it, and a seat for two just aft of the engine and controlling levers. Back of the seat stretched out a long framework, and at the end was a curved plane, set at right angles to it. The ends of the plane terminated in flexible wings, to permit of their being bent up or down, so as to preserve the horizontal equilibrium of the craft.

At the extreme end was the vertical rudder, which sent the monoplane to left or right.

Forward, almost exactly like the front set of wings of the dragon fly, was the large, main plane, with the concave turn toward the ground. There was the usual propeller in front, operated by a four cylinder motor, the cylinders being air cooled, and set like the spokes of a wheel around the motor box. The big gasolene tank, and other mechanism was in front of the right-hand operator's seat, where Tom always rode. He had seldom taken a pa.s.senger up with him, though the machine would easily carry two, and he was a little nervous about the outcome of the trip with Mr. Damon.

"How do you like the looks of it?" asked the young inventor, as he wheeled the b.u.t.tERFLY out of the shed, and began pumping up the tires of the bicycle wheels on which it ran over the ground, to get impetus enough with which to rise.

"It looks a little frail, compared to the big RED CLOUD, Tom,"

answered the eccentric man, "but I'm going up in her just the same; bless my b.u.t.tons if I'm not."

Tom could not but admire the grit of his friend.

The rest of the day was busily spent making various adjustments to the monoplane, putting on new wire stays, changing the rudder cables, and tuning up the motor. The propeller was tightened on the shaft, and toward evening Tom announced that all was in readiness for a trial flight.

"Want to come, Mr. Damon?" he asked.

"I'll wait, and see how it acts with you aboard," was the answer.

"Not that I'm afraid, for I'm going to make the trip in the morning, but perhaps it won't work just right now."

"Oh, I guess it will," ventured Tom, and in order to be able to know just how his b.u.t.tERFLY was going to behave, with a pa.s.senger of Mr.

Damon's weight, the young inventor placed a bag of sand on the extra seat.

The monoplane was then wheeled to the end of the starting ground.

Tom took his place in the seat, and Mr. Jackson started the propeller. At first the engine failed to respond, but suddenly with a burst of smoke, and a spluttering of fire the cylinders began exploding. The hat of Mr. Damon, who was standing back of the machine, was blown off by the wind created by the propeller.

"Bless my gaiters!" he exclaimed, "I never thought it was as strong as that!"

"Let go!" cried Tom to Mr. Jackson and Eradicate, who were holding back the monoplane from gliding over the ground.

"All right," answered the engineer.

An instant later the explosions almost doubled, for Tom turned on more gasolene. Then, like some live thing, the b.u.t.tERFLY rushed across the starting ground. Faster and faster it went, until the young inventor, knowing that he had motion enough, tilted his planes to catch the wind.

Up he went from earth, like some graceful bird, higher and higher, and then, in a big spiral, he began ascending until he was five hundred feet in the air. Up there he traveled back and forth, in circles, and in figure eights, desiring to test the machine in various capacities.

Suddenly the engine stopped, and to those below, anxiously watching, the silence became almost oppressive, for Tom had somewhat descended, and the explosions had been plainly heard by those observing him. But now they ceased!

"His engine's stalled!" cried Garret Jackson.

Mr. Swift heard the words, and looked anxiously up at his son.

"Is he in any danger?" gasped Mr. Damon.

No one answered him. Like some great bird, disabled in mid flight, the monoplane swooped downward. A moment later a hearty shout from Tom rea.s.sured them.