CHAPTER XXI
THE BALLOON ON FIRE
Down Lake Carlopa speeded the ARROW, those on board watching the banksslip past as the motor-boat rapidly cut through the water.
"What time do you think we ought to reach home, Tom?" asked Mr. Swift.
"Oh, about four o'clock, if we don't stop for lunch."
"Then we'll not stop," decided the inventor. "We'll eat what we haveon board. I suppose you have some rations?" and he smiled, the firsttime since hearing the bad news.
"Oh, yes, Ned and I didn't eat everything on our camping trips," andTom was glad to note that the fine weather which followed the storm washaving a good effect on his father.
"We certainly had a good time," remarked Ned. "I don't know when I'veenjoyed a vacation so."
"It's too bad it had to be cut short by this robbery," commented Mr.Swift.
"Oh, well, my time would be up in a few days more," went on the youngbank employee. "It's just as well to start back now."
Tom took the shortest route he knew, keeping in as close to shore as hedared, for now he was as anxious to get home as was his father. On andon speeded the ARROW, yet fast as it was, it seemed slow to Mr. Swift,who, like all nervous persons, always wanted to go wherever he desiredto go instantly.
Tom headed his boat around a little point of land, and was urging theengine to the top notch of speed, for now he was on a clear course,with no danger from shoals or hidden rocks, when he saw, darting outfrom shore, a tiny craft which somehow seemed familiar to him. Herecognized a peculiar put-putter of the motor.
"That's the DOT," he remarked in a low voice to Ned, "Miss Nestor'scousin's boat."
"Is she in it now?" asked Ned.
"Yes," answered Tom quickly.
"You've got good eyesight," remarked Ned dryly, "to tell a girl at thatdistance. It looks to me like a boy."
"No, it's Mary--I mean Miss Nestor," the youth quickly correctedhimself, and a close observer would have noticed that he blushed a bitunder his coat of tan.
Ned laughed, Tom blushed still more, and Mr. Swift, who was in a sternseat, glanced up quickly.
"It looks as if that boat wanted to hail us," the inventor remarked.
Tom was thinking the same thing, for, though he had changed his courseslightly since sighting the DOT, the little craft was put over so as tomeet him. Wondering what Miss Nestor could want, but being only toowilling to have a chat with her, the young inventor shifted his helm.In a short time the two craft were within hailing distance.
"How do you do?" called Miss Nestor, as she slowed down her motor."Don't you think I'm improving, Mr. Swift?"
"What's that? I--er--I beg your pardon, but I didn't catch that,"exclaimed the aged inventor quickly, coming out of a sort of day-dream."I beg your pardon." He thought she had addressed him.
Miss Nestor blushed and looked questioningly at Tom.
"My father," he explained as he introduced his parent. Ned needednone, having met Miss Nestor before. "Indeed you have improved verymuch," went on our hero. "You seem able to manage the boat all alone."
"Yes, I'm doing pretty well. Dick lets me take the DOT whenever I wantto, and I thought I'd come out for a little trial run this morning.I'm getting ready for the races. I suppose you are going to enterthem?" and she steered her boat alongside Tom's, who throttled down hispowerful motor so as not to pass his friend.
"Races? I hadn't heard of them," he replied.
"Oh, indeed there are to be fine ones under the auspices of the LantonMotor Club. Mr. Hastings, of whom you bought that boat, is going toenter his new CARLOPA, and Dick has entered the DOT, in the baby classof course. But I'm going to run it, and that's why I'm practicing."
"I hope you win," remarked Tom. "I hadn't heard of the races, but Ithink I'll enter. I'm glad you told me. Do you want to race now?" andhe laughed as he looked into the brown eyes of Mary Nestor.
"No, indeed, unless you give me a start of several miles."
They kept together for some little time longer, and then, as Tom knewhis father would be restless at the slow speed, he told Miss Nestor theneed of haste, and, advancing his timer, he soon left the DOT behind.The girl called a laughing good-by and urged him not to forget theraces, which were to take place in about two weeks.
"I suppose Andy Foger will enter his boat," commented Ned.
"Naturally," agreed Tom. "It's a racer, and he'll probably think itcan beat anything on the lake. But if he doesn't manage his motordifferently, it won't."
The distance from Sandport to Shopton had been more than half coveredat noon, when the travelers ate a lunch in the boat. Mr. Swift waslooking anxiously ahead to catch the first glimpse of his dock and Tomwas adjusting the machinery as finely as he dared to get out of it themaximum speed.
Ned Newton, who happened to be gazing aloft, wondering at the perfectbeauty of the blue sky after the storm, uttered a sudden exclamation.Then he arose and pointed at some object in the air.
"Look!" he cried, "A balloon! It must have gone up from some fair."
Tom and his father looked upward. High in the air, almost over theirheads, was an immense balloon. It was of the hot-air variety, such asperformers use in which to make ascensions from fair grounds andcircuses, and below it dangled a trapeze, upon which could be observeda man, only he looked more like a doll than a human being.
"I shouldn't like to be as high as that," remarked Ned.
"I would," answered Tom as he slowed down the engine the better towatch the balloon. "I'd like to go up in an airship, and I intend tosome day."
"I believe he's going to jump!" suddenly exclaimed Ned after a fewminutes. "He's going to do something, anyhow."
"Probably come down in a parachute," said Tom. "They generally dothat."
"No! No!" cried Ned. "He isn't going to jump. Something hashappened! The balloon is on fire! He'll be burned to death!"
Horror stricken, they all gazed aloft. From the mouth of the balloonthere shot a tongue of fire, and it was followed by a cloud of blacksmoke. The big bag was getting smaller and seemed to be descending,while the man on the trapeze was hanging downward by his hands to getas far as possible away from the terrible heat.
Tom Swift and His Motor-Boat; Or, The Rivals of Lake Carlopa Page 21
