The Tom Swift Megapack

by Victor Appleton

  “Now for home, to repair everything, and we’ll be ready for a longer trip,” the aeronaut said to the young inventor, as they turned around, and headed off before the wind, while hundreds below them cheered.

  “We ought to carry spare propellers if we’re going to smash into school towers,” remarked Tom. “I seem to be a sort of hoodoo.”

  “Nonsense! It wasn’t your fault at all,” commented Mr. Sharp warmly. “It would have happened to me had I been steering. But we will take an extra propeller along after this.”

  An hour later they arrived in front of the big shed and the Red Cloud was safely housed. Mr. Swift was just beginning to get anxious about his son and his friend, and was glad to welcome them back.

  “Now for a big trip, in about a week!” exclaimed Mr. Sharp enthusiastically. “You’ll come with us, won’t you, Mr. Swift?”

  The inventor slowly shook his head.

  “Not on a trip,” he said. “I may go for a trial spin with you, but I’ve got too important a matter under way to venture on a long trip,” and he turned away without explaining what it was. But Tom and Mr. Sharp were soon to learn.

  CHAPTER 7

  ANDY TRIES A TRICK

  Without loss of time the young inventor and the aeronaut began to repair the damage done to the Red Cloud by colliding with the tower. The most important part to reconstruct was the propeller, and Mr. Sharp decided to make two, instead of one, in order to have an extra one in case of future accidents.

  Tom’s task was to arrange the mechanism so that, hereafter, the rudder could not become jammed, and so prevent the airship from steering properly. This the lad accomplished by a simple but effective device which, when the balloonist saw it, caused him to compliment Tom.

  “That’s worth patenting,” he declared. “I advise you to take out papers on that.”

  “It seems such a simple thing,” answered the youth. “And I don’t see much use of spending the money for a patent. Airships aren’t likely to be so numerous that I could make anything off that patent.”

  “You take my advice,” insisted Mr. Sharp. “Airships are going to be used more in the future than you have any idea of. You get that device patented.”

  Tom did so, and, not many years afterward he was glad that he had, as it brought him quite an income.

  It required several days’ work on the Red Cloud before it was in shape for another trial. During the hours when he was engaged in the big shed, helping Mr. Sharp, the young inventor spent many minutes calling to mind the memory of a certain fair face, and I think I need not mention any names to indicate whose face it was.

  “She promised to go for a ride with me,” mused the lad. “I hope she doesn’t back out. But I’ll want to learn more about managing the ship before I venture with her in it. It won’t do to have any accidents then. There’s Ned Newton, too. I must take him for a skim in the clouds. Guess I’ll invite him over some afternoon, and give him a private view of the machine, when we get it in shape again.”

  About a week after the accident at the school Mr. Sharp remarked to Tom one afternoon

  “If the weather is good tomorrow, we’ll try another flight. Do you suppose your father will come along?”

  “I don’t know,” answered the lad. “He seems much engrossed in something. It’s unusual, too, for he most generally tells me what he is engaged upon. However, I guess he will say something about it when he gets ready.”

  “Well, if he doesn’t feel just like coming, don’t argue him. He might be nervous, and, while the ship is new, I don’t want any nervous passengers aboard. I can’t give them my attention and look after the running of the machinery.”

  “I was going to propose bringing a friend of mine over to see us make the trip tomorrow,” went on the young inventor. “Ned Newton, you know him. He’d like a ride.”

  “Oh, I guess Ned’s all right. Let him come along. We won’t go very high tomorrow. After a trial rise by means of the gas, I’m going to lower the ship to the ground, and try for an elevation by means of the planes. Oh, yes, bring your friend along.”

  Ned Newton was delighted the next day to receive Tom’s invitation, and, though a little dubious about trusting himself in an airship for the first time, finally consented to go with his chum. He got a half holiday from the bank, and, shortly after dinner went to Tom’s house.

  “Come on out in the shed and take a look at the Red Cloud,” proposed the young inventor. “Mr. Sharp isn’t quite ready to start yet, and I’ll explain some things to you.”

  The big shed was deserted when the lads entered, and went to the loft where they were on a level with the big, red aluminum tank. Tom began with a description of the machinery, and Ned followed him with interest.

  “Now we’ll go down into the car or cabin,” continued the young navigator of the air, “and I’ll show you what we do when we’re touring amid the clouds.”

  As they started to descend the flight of steps from the loft platform, a noise on the ground below attracted their attention.

  “Guess that’s Mr. Sharp coming,” said Ned.

  Tom leaned over and looked down. An instant later he grasped the arm of his chum, and motioned to him to keep silent.

  “Take a look,” whispered the young inventor.

  “Andy Foger!” exclaimed Ned, peering over the railing.

  “Yes, and Sam Snedecker and Pete Bailey are with him. They sneaked in when I left the door open. Wonder what they want?”

  “Up to some mischief, I’ll wager,” commented Ned. “Hark! They’re talking.”

  The two lads on the loft listened intently. Though the cronies on the ground below them did not speak loudly, their voices came plainly to the listeners.

  “Let’s poke a hole in their gas bag,” proposed Sam. “That will make them think they’re not so smart as they pretend.”

  “Naw, we can’t do that,” answered Andy.

  “Why not?” declared Pete.

  “Because the bag’s away up in the top part of the shed, and I’m not going to climb up there.”

  “You’re afraid,” sneered Sam.

  “I am not! I’ll punch your face if you say that again! Besides the thing that holds the gas is made of aluminum, and we can’t make a hole in it unless we take an axe, and that makes too much noise.”

  “We ought to play some sort of a trick on Tom Swift,” proposed Pete. “He’s too fresh!”

  Tom shook his fist at the lads on the ground, but of course they did not see him.

  “I have it!” came from Andy.

  “What?” demanded his two cronies.

  “We’ll cut some of the guy wires from the planes and rudders. That will make the airship collapse. They’ll think the wires broke from the strain. Take out your knives and saw away at the wires. Hurry, too, or they may catch us.”

  “You’re caught now,” whispered Ned to Tom. “Come on down, and give ’em a trouncing.”

  Tom hesitated. He looked quickly about the loft, and then a smile replaced the frown of righteous anger on his face.

  “I have a better way,” he said.

  “What is it?”

  “See that pile of dirt?” and he pointed to some refuse that had been swept up from the floor of the loft. Ned nodded. “It consists of a lot of shavings, sawdust and, what’s more, a lot of soot and lampblack that we used in mixing some paint. We’ll sweep the whole pile down on their heads, and make them wish they’d stayed away from this place.”

  “Good!” exclaimed Ned, chuckling. “Give me a broom. There’s another one for you.”

  The two lads in the loft peered down. The red-headed, squint-eyed bully and his chums had their knives out, and were about to cut some of the important guy wires, when, at a signal from Tom, Ned, with a sweep of his broom, sent a big pile of the dirt, sawdust and lampblack down upon the heads of the conspirators. The young inventor did the same thing, and for an instant the lower part of the shed looked as if a dirtstorm had taken place there. The pile of refuse wen
t straight down on the heads of the trio, and, as they were looking up, in order to see to cut the wires, they received considerable of it in their faces.

  In an instant the white countenances of the lads were changed to black—as black as the burnt-cork performers in a minstrel show. Then came a series of howls.

  “Wow! Who did that!”

  “I’m blinded! The shed is falling down!”

  “Run fellows, run!” screamed Andy. “There’s been an explosion. We’ll be killed!”

  At that moment the big doors of the shed were thrown open, and Mr. Sharp came in. He started back in astonishment at the sight of the three grotesque figures, their faces black with the soot, and their clothes covered with sawdust and shavings, rushing wildly around.

  “That will teach you to come meddling around here. Andy Roger!” cried Tom.

  “I—I—you—you—Oh, wait—I—you—” spluttered the bully, almost speechless with rage. Sam and Pete were wildly trying to wipe the stuff from their faces, but only made matters worse. They were so startled that they did not know enough to run out of the opened doors.

  “Wish we had some more stuff to put on ’em,” remarked Ned, who was holding his sides that ached from laughter.

  “I have it!” cried Tom, and he caught up a bucket of red paint, that had been used to give the airship its brilliant hue. Running to the end of the loft Tom stood for an instant over the trio of lads who were threatening and imploring by turns.

  “Here’s another souvenir of your visit,” shouted the young inventor, as he dashed the bucket of red paint down on the conspirators. This completed the work of the dirt and soot, and a few seconds later, each face looking like a stage Indian’s ready for the war-path, the trio dashed out. They shed shavings, sawdust and lampblack at every step, and from their clothes and hands and faces dripped the carmine paint.

  “Better have your pictures taken!” cried Ned, peering from an upper window.

  “Yes, and send us one,” added Tom, joining his chum. Andy looked up at them. He dug a mass of red paint from his left ear, removed a mass of soot from his right cheek, and, shaking his fist, which was alternately striped red and black, cried out in a rage

  “I’ll get even with you yet, Tom Swift!”

  “You only got what was coming to you,” retorted the young inventor. “The next time you come sneaking around this airship, trying to damage it, you’ll get worse, and I’ll have you arrested. You’ve had your lesson, and don’t forget it.”

  The red-haired bully, doubly red-haired now, had nothing more to say. There was nothing he could say, and, accompanied by his companions, he made a bee-line for the rear gate in the fence, and darted across the meadow. They were all sorry enough looking specimens, but solely through their own fault.

  CHAPTER 8

  WINNING A PRIZE

  “Well, Tom, what happened?” asked Mr. Sharp, as he saw the trio running away. “Looks as if you had had an exciting time here.”

  “No, those fellows had all the excitement,” declared Ned. “We had the fun.” And the two lads proceeded to relate what had taken place.

  “Tried to damage the airship, eh?” asked Mr. Sharp. “I wish I’d caught them at it; the scoundrels! But perhaps you handled them as well as I could have done.”

  “I guess so,” assented Tom. “I must see if they did cut any of the wires.”

  But the young inventor and his chum had acted too quickly, and it was found that nothing, had been done to the Red Cloud.

  A little later the airship was taken out of the shed, and made ready for a trip. The gas ascension was first used, and Ned and Mr. Swift were passengers with Tom and Mr. Sharp. The machine went about a thousand feet up in the air, and then was sent in various directions, to the no small delight of a large crowd that gathered in the meadow back of the Swift property; for it only required the sight of the airship looming its bulk above the fence and buildings, to attract a throng. It is safe to say this time, however, that Andy Foger and his cronies were not in the audience. They were probably too busy removing the soot and red paint.

  Although it was the first time Mr. Swift had ever been in an airship, he evinced no great astonishment. In fact he seemed to be thinking deeply, and on some subject not connected with aeronautics. Tom noticed the abstraction of his father, and shook his head. Clearly the aged inventor was not his usual self.

  As for Ned Newton his delight knew no bounds, At first he was a bit apprehensive as the big ship went higher and higher, and swung about, but he soon lost his fear, and enjoyed the experience as much as did Tom. The young inventor was busy helping Mr. Sharp manage the machinery, rudders-planes and motor.

  A flight of several miles was made, and Tom was wishing they might pay another visit to the Rocksmond Seminary, but Mr. Sharp, after completing several evolutions, designed to test the steering qualities of the craft, put back home.

  “We’ll land in the meadow and try rising by the planes alone,” he said. In this evolution it was deemed best for Mr. Swift and Ned to alight, as there was no telling just how the craft would behave. Tom’s father was very willing to get out, but Ned would have remained in, only for the desire of his friend.

  With the two propellers whirring at a tremendous speed, and all the gas out of the aluminum container, the Red Cloud shot forward, running over the level ground of the meadow, where a starting course had been laid out.

  “Clear the track!” cried Mr. Sharp, as he saw the crowd closing up in front of him. The men, boys, several girls and women made a living lane. Through this shot the craft, and then, when sufficient momentum had been obtained, Tom, at a command from the aeronaut, pulled the lever of the elevation rudder. Up into the air shot the nose of the Red Cloud as the wind struck the slanting surface of the planes, and, a moment later it was sailing high above the heads of the throng.

  “That’s the stuff!” cried Mr. Sharp. “It works as well that way as it does with the gas!”

  Higher and higher it went, and then, coming to a level keel, the craft was sent here and there, darting about like a bird, and going about in huge circles.

  “Start the gas machine, and we’ll come to rest in the air,” said the balloonist, and Tom did so. As the powerful vapor filled the container the ship acquired a bouyancy, and there was no need of going at high speed in order to sustain it. The propellers were stopped, and the Red Cloud floated two thousand feet in the air, only a little distance below some fleecy, white masses from which she took her name. The demonstration was a great success. The gas was again allowed to escape, the propellers set in motion, and purely as an aeroplane, the ship was again sent forward. By means of the planes and rudders a perfect landing was made in the meadow, a short distance from where the start had been made. The crowd cheered the plucky youth and Mr. Sharp.

  “Now I’m ready to go on a long trip any time you are, Tom,” said the aeronaut that night.

  “We’ll fit up the car and get ready,” agreed the `youth. “How about you, dad?”

  “Me? Oh, well—er—that is, you see; well, I’ll think about it,” and Mr. Swift went to his own room, carrying with him a package of papers, containing intricate calculations.

  Tom shook his head, but said nothing. He could not understand his father’s conduct.

  Work was started the next day on fitting up the car, or cabin, of the airship, so that several persons could live, eat and sleep in it for two weeks, if necessary. The third day after this task had been commenced the mail brought an unusual communication to Tom and Mr. Sharp. It was from an aero club of Blakeville, a city distant about a hundred miles, and stated that a competition for aeroplanes and dirigible balloons was to be held in the course of two weeks. The affair was designed to further interest in the sport, and also to demonstrate what progress had been made in the art of conquering the air. Prizes were to be given, and the inventors of the Red Cloud, the achievements of which the committee of arrangements had heard, were invited to compete.

  “Shall we go in for i
t, Tom?” asked the balloonist.

  “I’m willing if you are.”

  “Then let’s do it. We’ll see how our craft shows up alongside of others. I know something of this club. It is all right, but the carnival is likely to be a small one. Once I gave a balloon exhibition for them. The managers are all right. Well, we’ll have a try at it. Won’t do us any harm to win a prize. Then for a long trip!”

  As it was not necessary to have the car, or cabin, completely fitted up in order to compete for the prize, work in that direction was suspended for the time being, and more attention was paid to the engine, the planes and rudders. Some changes were made and, a week later the Red Cloud departed for Blakeville. As the rules of the contest required three passengers, Ned Newton was taken along, Mr. Swift having arranged with the bank president so that the lad could have a few days off.

  The Red Cloud arrived at the carnival grounds in the evening, having been delayed on the trip by a broken cog wheel, which was mended in mid-air. As the three navigators approached, they saw a small machine flying around the grounds.

  “Look!” cried Ned excitedly. “What a small airship.”

  “That’s a monoplane,” declared Tom, who was getting to be quite an expert.

  “Yes, the same kind that was used to cross the English Channel,” interjected Mr. Sharp. “They’re too uncertain for my purposes, though; they are all right under certain conditions.”

  Hardly had he spoken than a puff of wind caused the daring manipulator of the monoplane to swerve to one side. He had to make a quick descent—so rapid was it, in fact, that the tips of one of his planes was smashed.

  “It’ll take him a day to repair that,” commented the aeronaut dryly.

  The Red Cloud created a sensation as she slowly settled down in front of the big tent assigned to her. Tom’s craft was easily the best one at the carnival, so far, though the managers said other machines were on the way.

  The exhibition opened the next day, but no flights were to be attempted until the day following. Two more crafts arrived, a large triplane, and a dirigible balloon. There were many visitors to the ground, and Tom, Ned and Mr. Sharp were kept busy answering questions put by those who crowded into their tent. Toward the close of the day a fussy little Frenchman entered, and, making his way to where Tom stood, asked