“Wakefield Damon!”
“That’s who I am,” answered Tom’s friend, “and let me introduce you to Mr. Swift, the inventor of more machines than I can count. He and I were coming to see you, when we had a slight accident, and we landed here. But that didn’t matter, for we intended to land here anyhow, as I knew it was near your house. Only we had to vol-plane back to earth, and I can’t say that I’d care for that, as a steady diet. Bless my radiator, but I’m glad we’ve arrived safely.”
“Did you come all the way from your home in that?” asked Mr. Fenwick of Tom, as he shook hands with him, and nodded at the monoplane.
“Oh, yes. It’s not much of a trip.”
“Well, I hope my airship will do as well. But something seems to be wrong with it, and I have hopes that you can help me discover what it is, I know your father, and I have heard much of your ability. That is why I requested your aid.”
“I’m afraid I’ve been much overrated,” spoke Tom, modestly, “but I’ll do all I can for you. I must now leave my monoplane in a safe place, however.”
“I’ll attend to that,” Mr. Fenwick hastened to assure him. “Leave it to me.”
By this time a lieutenant of police, in charge of several reserve officers, had arrived on the scene, for the crowd was now very large, and, as Mr. Fenwick knew this official, he requested that Tom’s machine be protected from damage. It was arranged that it could be stored in a large, empty shed, and a policeman would be left on guard. Then, seeing that it was all right, Tom, Mr. Damon and Mr. Fenwick started for the latter’s house.
“I am very anxious to show you the Whizzer,” said Mr. Fenwick, as they walked along.
“The Whizzer?” repeated Tom, wonderingly.
“Yes, that’s what I call my electric airship. It hasn’t ‘whizzed’ any to speak of yet, but I have hopes that it will, now that you are here to help me. We will take one of these taxicabs, and soon be at my house. I was out for a stroll, when I saw your monoplane coming down, and I hastened to Franklin Field to see it.”
The three entered an automobile, and were soon being driven to the inventor’s home. A little later he led them out to a big shed which occupied nearly all of a large lot, in back of Mr. Fenwick’s house.
“Does it take up all that room?” asked Tom.
“Oh, yes, the Whizzer is pretty good size. There she is!” cried Mr. Fenwick proudly, as he threw open the doors of the shed, and Tom and Mr. Damon, locking in, saw a large triplane, with a good-sized gas bag hovering over it, and a strange collection of rudders, wings and planes sticking out from either side. Amidships was an enclosed car, or cabin, and a glimpse into it served to disclose to the young inventor a mass of machinery.
“There she is! That’s the Whizzer!” cried Mr. Fenwick, with pride in his voice. “What do you think of her, Tom Swift?”
Tom did not immediately answer. He looked dubiously at the electric airship and shrugged his shoulders. It seemed to him, at first glance, that, it would never sail.
CHAPTER VII
Making Some Changes
“Well, what do you think of it?” asked Mr. Fenwick again, as Tom walked all about the electric airship, still without speaking.
“It’s big, certainly,” remarked the lad.
“Bless my shoe horn! I should say it was!” burst out Mr. Damon. “It’s larger than your Red Cloud, Tom.”
“But will it go? That’s what I want to know,” insisted the inventor. “Do you think it will fly, Tom? I haven’t dared to try it yet, though a small model which I made floated in the air for some time. But it wouldn’t move, except as the wind blew it.”
“It would be hard to say, without a careful examination, whether this large one will fly or not,” answered Tom.
“Then give it a careful examination,” suggested Mr. Fenwick. “I’ll pay you well for your time and trouble.”
“Oh if I can help a fellow inventor, and assist in making a new model of airship fly, I’m only too glad to do it without pay,” retorted Tom, quickly. “I didn’t come here for that. Suppose we go in the cabin, and look at the motor. That’s the most important point, if your airship is to navigate.”
There was certainly plenty of machinery in the cabin of the Whizzer. Most of it was electrical, for on that power Mr. Fenwick intended to depend to sail through space. There was a new type of gasolene engine, small but very powerful, and this served to operate a dynamo. In turn, the dynamo operated an electrical motor, as Mr. Fenwick had an idea that better, and more uniform, power could be obtained in this way, than from a gasolene motor direct. One advantage which Tom noticed at once, was that the Whizzer had a large electric storage battery.
This was intended to operate the electric motor in case of a break to the main machinery, and it seemed a good idea. There were various other apparatuses, machines, and appliances, the nature of which Tom could not readily gather from a mere casual view.
“Well, what’s your opinion, now that you have seen the motor?” asked Mr. Fenwick, anxiously.
“I’d have to see it in operation,” said Tom.
“And you shall, right after dinner,” declared the inventor. “I’d like to start it now, and hear what you have to say, but I’m not so selfish as that. I know you must be hungry after your trip from Shopton, as they say aeroplaning gives one an appetite.”
“I don’t know whether it’s that or not,” answered Tom with a laugh, “but I am certainly hungry.”
“Then we’ll postpone the trial until after dinner. It must be ready by this time, I think,” said Mr. Fenwick, as he led the way back to the house. It was magnificently furnished, for the inventor was a man of wealth, and only took up aeroplaning as a “fad.” An excellent dinner was served, and then the three returned once more to the shed where the Whizzer was kept.
“Shall I start the motor in here?” asked Mr. Fenwick, when he had summoned several of the machinists whom he employed, to aid himself and the young inventor.
“It would be better if we could take it outside,” suggested Tom, “yet a crowd is sure to gather, and I don’t like to work in a mob of people.”
“Oh, we can easily get around that,” said Mr. Fenwick. “I have two openings to my aeroplane shed. We can take the Whizzer out of the rear door, into a field enclosed by a high fence. That is where I made all my trials, and the crowd couldn’t get in, though some boys did find knot-holes and use them. But I don’t mind that. The only thing that bothers me is that I can’t make the Whizzer go up, and if it won’t go up, it certainly won’t sail. That’s my difficulty, and I hope you can remedy it, Tom Swift.”
“I’ll do the best I can. But let’s get the airship outside.”
This was soon accomplished, and in the open lot Tom made a thorough and careful examination of the mechanism. The motor was started, and the propellers, for there were two, whirled around at rapid speed.
Tom made some tests and calculations, at which he was an expert, and applied the brake test, to see how much horse power the motor would deliver.
“I think there is one trouble that we will have to get over,” he finally said to Mr. Fenwick.
“What is that?”
“The motor is not quite powerful enough because of the way in which you have it geared up. I think by changing some of the cogs, and getting rid of the off-set shaft, also by increasing the number of revolutions, and perhaps by using a new style of carburetor, we can get more speed and power.”
“Then we’ll do it!” cried Mr. Fenwick, with enthusiasm. “I knew I hadn’t got everything just right. Do you think it will work after that?”
“Well,” remarked Tom, hesitatingly, “I think the arrangement of the planes will also have to be changed. It will take quite some work, but perhaps, after a bit, we can get the Whizzer up in the air.”
“Can you begin work at once?” asked the inventor, eagerly.
Tom shook his head.
“I can’t stay long enough on this trip,” he said. “I promised father I would
be back by tomorrow at the latest, but I will come over here again, and arrange to stay until I have done all I can. I need to get some of my special tools, and then, too, you will require some other supplies, of which I will give you a list. I hope you don’t mind me speaking in this way, Mr. Fenwick, as though I knew more about it than you do,” added Tom, modestly.
“Not a bit of it!” cried the inventor heartily. “I want the benefit of your advice and experience, and I’ll do just as you say. I hope you can come back soon.”
“I’ll return the first of the week,” promised Tom, “and then we’ll see what can be done. Now I’ll go over the whole ship once more, and see what I need. I also want to test the lifting capacity of your gas bag.”
The rest of the day was a busy one for our hero. With the aid of Mr. Damon and the owner of the Whizzer, he went over every point carefully. Then, as it was too late to attempt the return flight to Shopton, he telegraphed his father, and he and Mr. Damon remained over night with Mr. Fenwick.
In the morning, having written out a list of the things that would be needed, Tom went out to Franklin Field, and repaired his own monoplane. It was found that one of the electric wires connected with the motor had broken, thus cutting off the spark. It was soon repaired, and, in the presence of a large crowd, Tom and Mr. Damon started on their return flight.
“Do you think you can make the Whizzer work, Tom?” asked Mr. Damon, as they were flying high over Philadelphia.
“I’m a little dubious about it,” was the reply. “But after I make some changes I may have a different opinion. The whole affair is too big and clumsy, that’s the trouble; though the electrical part of it is very good.”
Shopton was reached without incident, in about three hours, and there was no necessity, this time, of vol-planing back to earth. After a short rest, Tom began getting together a number of special tools and appliances, which he proposed taking back to Philadelphia with him.
The young inventor made another trip to Mr. Fenwick’s house the first of the following week. He went by train this time, as he had to ship his tools, and Mr. Damon did not accompany him. Then, with the assistance of the inventor of the Whizzer, and several of his mechanics, Tom began making the changes on the airship.
“Do you think you can make it fly?” asked Mr. Fenwick, anxiously, after several days of labor.
“I hope so,” replied our hero, and there was more confidence in his tone than there had been before. As the work progressed, he began to be more hopeful. “I’ll make a trial flight, anyhow, in a few days,” he added.
“Then I must send word to Mr. Damon,” decided Mr. Fenwick. “He wants to be on hand to see it, and, if possible, go up; so he told me.”
“All right,” assented Tom. “I only hope it does go up,” he concluded, in a low tone.
CHAPTER VIII
Andy Foger’s Revenge
During the following week, Tom was kept busy over the airship. He made many important changes, and one of these was to use a new kind of gas in the balloon bag. He wanted a gas with a greater lifting power than that of the ordinary illuminating vapor which Mr. Fenwick had used.
“Well,” remarked Tom, as he came from the airship shed one afternoon, “I think we can give it a try-out, Mr. Fenwick, in a few days more. I shall have to go back to Shopton to get some articles I need, and when I come back I will bring Mr. Damon with me, and we will see what the Whizzer can do.”
“Do you mean we will make a trial flight?”
“Yes.”
“For how long a distance?”
“It all depends on how she behaves,” answered Tom, with a smile. “If possible, we’ll make a long flight.”
“Then I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” went on the inventor, “I’m going to put aboard a stock of provisions, and some other supplies and stores, in case we are two or three days in the air.”
“It might not be a bad plan,” agreed Tom, “though I hardly think we will be gone as long as that.”
“Well, being out in the air always makes me hungry,” proceeded Mr. Fenwick, “so I’m going to take plenty of food along.”
The time was to come, and that very soon, when this decision of the inventor of the Whizzer stood the adventurers in good stead.
Tom returned to Shopton the next day, and sent word to have Mr. Damon join him in time to go back to the Quaker City two days later.
“But why don’t you start right back to Philadelphia tomorrow,” asked Mr. Swift of his son.
“Because,” answered Tom, and that was all the reason he would give, though had any one seen him reading a certain note a few minutes before that, which note was awaiting him on his arrival from the Quaker City, they would not have wondered at his decision.
The note was brief. It merely said:
“Won’t you come, and have some apple turnovers? The new cook is a treasure, and the girls are anxious to meet you.”
It was signed: Mary Nestor.
“I think I could enjoy some apple turnovers,” remarked Tom, with a smile.
Having gotten ready the few special appliances he wished to take back to Philadelphia with him, Tom went, that evening, to call on Miss Nestor. True to her promise, the girl had a big plate full of apple turnovers, which she gaily offered our hero on his arrival, and, on his laughing declination to partake of so many, she ushered him into a room full of pretty girls, saying:
“They’ll help you eat them, Tom. Girls, here is Mr. Swift, who doesn’t mind going up in the air or under the ocean, or even catching runaway horses,” by which last she referred to the time Tom saved her life, and first made her acquaintance.
As for the young inventor, he gave a gasp, almost as if he had plunged into a bath of icy water, at the sight of so many pretty faces staring at him. He said afterward that he would rather have vol-planed back to earth from a seven-mile height, than again face such a battery of sparkling eyes.
But our hero soon recovered himself, and entered into the merriment of the evening, and, before he knew it he was telling Miss Nestor and her attractive guests something of his exploits.
“But I’m talking altogether too much about myself.” he said, finally. “How is the new cook Miss Nestor; and have you heard from your father and mother since they sailed on the Resolute for the West Indies?”
“As to the new cook, she is a jewel of the first water,” answered Miss Nestor. “We all like her, and she is anxious for another ride in a taxicab, as she calls your auto.”
“She shall have it,” declared Tom, “for those are the best apple turnovers I ever ate.”
“I’ll tell her so,” declared Mary. “She’ll appreciate it coming from an inventor of your ability.”
“Have you heard from your parents?” asked Tom, anxious to change the subject.
“Oh, yes. I had a wire today. They stopped at St. Augustine to let me know they were having a glorious time aboard the yacht. Mr. Hosbrook, the owner, is an ideal host, mamma said. They are proceeding directly to the West Indies, now. I do hope they will arrive safely. They say there are bad storms down there at this time of year.”
“Perhaps, if they are shipwrecked, Mr. Swift will go to their rescue in one of his airships, or a submarine,” suggested Mabel Jackson, one of the several pretty girls.
“Oh, I hope he doesn’t have to!” exclaimed Mary. “Don’t speak of shipwrecks! It makes me shudder,” and she seemed unduly alarmed.
“Of course they won’t have any trouble,” asserted Tom, confidently, more to reassure Miss Nestor, than from any knowledge he possessed; “but if they do get cast away on a desert island, I’ll certainly go to their rescue,” he added.
It was late when Tom started for home that night, for the society of Miss Nestor and her friends made the time pass quickly. He promised to call again, and try some more samples of the new cook’s culinary art, as soon as he had gotten Mr. Fenwick’s airship in shape for flying.
As, later that night, the young inventor came in sight of his home, a
nd the various buildings and shops surrounding it, his first glance was toward the shed which contained his monoplane, Butterfly. That little craft was Tom’s pet. It had not cost him anything like as much as had his other inventions, either in time or money, but he cared more for it than for his big airship, Red Cloud. This was principally because the Butterfly was so light and airy, and could be gotten ready so quickly for a flight across country. It was capable of long endurance, too, for an extra large supply of gasolene and oil was carried aboard.
So it was with rather a start of surprise that Tom saw a light in the structure where the Butterfly was housed.
“I wonder if dad or Mr. Jackson can be out there?” he mused. “Yet, I don’t see why they should be. They wouldn’t be going for a flight at night. Or perhaps Mr. Damon arrived, and is out looking it over.”
A moment’s reflection, however, told Tom that this last surmise could not be true, since the eccentric man had telegraphed, saying he would not arrive until the next day.
“Somebody’s out there, however,” went on Tom, “and I’m going to see who it is. I hope it isn’t Eradicate monkeying with the monoplane. He’s very curious, and he might get it out of order.”
Tom increased his pace, and moved swiftly but softly toward the shed. If there was an intruder inside he wanted to surprise him. There were large windows to the place, and they would give a good view of the interior. As Tom approached, the light within flickered, and moved to and fro.
Tom reached one of the casements, and peered in. He caught a glimpse of a moving figure, and he heard a peculiar ripping sound. Then, as he sprang toward the front door, the light suddenly went out, and the young inventor could hear some one running from the shop.
“They’ve seen me, and are trying to get away,” thought the lad. “I must catch them!”
He fairly leaped toward the portal, and, just as he reached it, a figure sprang out. So close was Tom that the unknown collided with him, and our hero went over on his back. The other person was tossed back by the force of the impact, but quickly recovered himself, and dashed away.
Not before, however, Tom had had a chance to glance at his face, and, to the chagrin of the young inventor, he recognized, by the dim light of a crescent moon, the countenance of Andy Foger! If additional evidence was needed Tom fully recognized the form as that of the town bully.
The Tom Swift Megapack Page 68
