“If you are going to enter international world race I shall be honored if you will take me with you. I speak all civilized languages and some uncivilized, and am also an aircraft mechanic. Reference the National Aero club.”
“If you are going to enter international world race I shall be honored if you will take me with you. I speak all civilized languages and some uncivilized, and am also an aircraft mechanic. Reference the National Aero club.”
“Another crank,” murmured Ned.
“I don’t know about that,” voiced Tom. “It’s worth looking up. See if you can get the Aero Club on the wire.”
When Ned had done so and had been told that Peltok, though little known in America, had a great reputation in Europe and was thoroughly reliable, a message was sent asking him to call at the Swift plant. Peltok had wired from New York. A day later he telephoned that he would be with Tom very shortly.
“We need another good man,” Tom said to Ned.
“How many are going?”
“Five.”
“Well, who are the other two besides you, Peltok, and me?”
“I haven’t decided yet, but I have my eye on a couple of young fellows. Now let’s see what we have next to do.”
“There’s plenty,” stated Ned, with truth.
The work went along. TheAir Monarchwas fully equipped for the race, and another trial flight showed big improvement as regarded her three speeds, on land, water, and in the air. Night and day men were on guard now, to keep Tom’s secret of his craft. Though in general its character was known, there were many things about it that the inventor did not want to reveal.
Meanwhile, the plan of an international world race was meeting with favor on all sides. Though one paper had offered the prize, the other journals gave plenty of space to the event and excitement was at a high pitch. Some wild and rash schemes were talked of, and not a few new and queer machines, both for land, air and water travel were entered. One man proposed to go in a motor car, hiring speedy, small steamers when land failed him, to transport his machine.
Peltok arrived and created a favorable impression on Tom and Ned. He was a quiet, reserved man, of great muscular strength, and he knew travel machines from end to end.
“And he can speak anything!” declared Ned. “He even talked to Koku in the giant’s own language.”
“No!” cried Tom.
“Fact! You ask Koku.”
Tom confirmed Ned’s statement. Peltok was a great linguist, and it was felt this accomplishment would be valuable should theAir Monarchhave to land in uncivilized countries.
A few days before theAir Monarchwas to leave for Long Island, Ned came to Tom with rather a serious face.
“We need more money, Tom, to complete the stocking of the ship and arranging for carrying on the business here while you are gone,” said the financial manager.
“Get it from the bank,” said Tom.
“We can’t. We’ve stretched our credit to the limit. We need ten thousand dollars in cash.”
For a moment Tom did not know what to do. Then he remembered his millionaire friend Jason Jacks, who had helped him on the Airline Express in a like emergency.
“Call Jacks,” Tom decided. When Ned did this, explaining Tom’s predicament, that eccentric, but kindly, character at once arranged the matter, sending, not ten, but fifteen thousand dollars to the credit of the Swift Company in the bank.
“And if you want more you can have it,” added Mr. Jacks. But Ned said that would do.
“Well, I go to New York to-morrow,” said Tom to Ned one evening, “to sign the final papers in the race contest. All contestants are to be present in theIllustrated Staroffice.”
“Where are you going now?” asked Ned, for his chum had on his hat and the electric runabout was at the door.
“Over to see Mary,” was the answer.
A little later Tom Swift was on his way. But for some reason or other, when he was within a quarter of a mile of the girl’s house, the electric machine suddenly went dead and stopped.
“That’s queer!” mused Tom, as he got out of the stalled car to have a look. “I thought the batteries were fully charged. Some one must have been running it without telling me. Well, I can walk, I suppose. It isn’t far.”
He tested the storage batteries, found that his surmise was correct—that they had exhausted themselves, though unaccountably—and then he started to walk.
But he had not gone far along the road, which was very lonely at this point, when a dark figure sprang suddenly from the bushes, leaped toward the young inventor, and uttered a smothered imprecation. There was a dull, thudding blow, and Tom was stricken down, sinking unconscious in the long grass at the side of the highway. Then the dark figure, with a sinister chuckle, fled amid the shadows of the night.
CHAPTER VIIIMIDNIGHT PROWLERS
“Well, Mary,” remarked Mr. Nestor as he looked at the clock. “Tom is a bit late, isn’t he?”
“Oh, he’ll be here,” said the girl, with a smile. “He said he was coming to take me for a little ride in the electric runabout before he has to go to New York to-morrow to sign up in the world race. Tom will be here.”
“Yes, I never knew him to fail an engagement,” went on Mr. Nestor with another look at the clock. “Yet he’s a bit late. I’m going out and smoke a cigar. If I see him coming——”
“Now, Daddy!” laughed Mary, “you don’t need to tell Tom to hurry. He isn’t a child. What if he is late?”
“Oh, well, nothing. But I just thought I’d mention it,” and with that Mr. Nestor went out.
Though Mary would not admit to her father that Tom was later than usual, she was more honest with herself. And when nine o’clock came and Tom had not appeared, she became uneasy.
“If anything in the way of business had detained him he would have telephoned,” said the girl. “I wonder if anything could have happened? Highfield Lane is lonesome after dark, and he would come that way.”
She waited a bit longer, growing more nervous all the while, and then she came to a decision.
“I’m going to walk along toward the Lane and see if he’s coming,” she said.
Mary expected to see her father out in front, also peering down through the darkness for the approach of Tom’s headlights, for the young inventor and Mr. Nestor were firm friends. But the glow of two cigars on a side porch and the murmur of voices there told Mary that her father had met Mr. Goodrich, from next door, and the two were visiting.
“Where are you going, Mary?” her father called to her as he heard her go out the front gate.
“To look for Tom. He’ll be along pretty soon.”
Though the girl peered sharply all along the quarter of a mile that lay between her house and Highfield Lane, she did not see her lover. Then she turned into the lane proper and caught sight of the glowing lights of a car she knew, because of their peculiar position, to be on the runabout.
“Here he comes now!” Mary exclaimed. A moment later she was aware that the lights were not moving. The car was standing still. “He must have had a break down,” thought Mary. She knew, from often having ridden in it, that the car lights were hooked up to a separate battery from the powerful ones that operated the motor.
When the girl, wondering what had happened, hurried toward the machine, she stumbled over Tom’s body, prone on the ground. She recognized him by the light from the car lamps.
“Oh, Tom! what has happened?” she cried.
There was no answer, and when Mary put her hands to his head she felt a dampness that told of blood. But she was a girl of grit and spunk, and, exerting all her strength, she managed to half drag, half lift Tom into the machine. Mary knew how to operate the runabout, but when she turned on the current there was no response and she realized that the batteries were useless.
She hardly knew what to do, but was about to shout and summon help. Should this fail to bring assistance, she planned to hurry to the nearest house. But just as she was about to call she became aware of an approaching car.
For a moment she feared that it was Tom’s assailant returning to finish the cruel work, for that Tom had been attacked Mary at once guessed. But the car proved to contain a man whom Mary knew, and when he had stopped in response to her frantic hail he helped her lift the unconscious form into his car and took Tom to the Nestor home.
“Nothing but a nasty crack on the skull,” said Dr. Blake, who was hastily summoned, and he soon restored Tom to consciousness, after which the young inventor looked around him curiously and murmured a question as to what had happened and how he got where he was.
Mary told of having stumbled over his unconscious body, and then Tom remembered.
“It’s a plot!” he exclaimed. “They want to get me out of the world race!”
“Who would do such a thing, Tom?” asked Mr. Nestor.
“There are several who would have an object in keeping theAir Monarchout of the contest. The Red Arrow people for one.”
Tom did not mention the name of Hussy, but it was this scoundrel whom he had in mind as the author of his misfortune. He had not seen, and had only faintly heard the noise of the man emerging from the bushes, for Tom had been struck down very suddenly. But he strongly suspected the man who had been caught in the wooden trap.
Tom’s strong constitution and his robust health enabled him to recover quickly from the blow, which had been a glancing one, and by midnight he was able to proceed back home. Mary insisted that she and her father accompany him in a taxi, and Tom was glad of the company.
Before he went to bed he sent Koku and a mechanic back to tow in the stalled runabout, and the next day, though suffering from a severe headache, the inventor examined the motors and batteries of his machine, finding that both had been tampered with.
“Hussy, or whoever it was, left just enough juice for me to get to the lane,” reasoned Tom. “He knew I’d stall there and he was waiting for me. But this means I am still being spied upon. I’ve got to take more precautions.”
As Tom was expected in New York that day to sign final papers in the contest, he left Ned in charge of the works, with Eradicate and Koku to help guard them.
“Dey ain’t nobody gwine to git in even to smell datAir Monarchwhile I’s heah!” declared the colored man.
“Me—I sit on um when um come in!” stated Koku, in his own peculiar way.
In due time Tom was in theIllustrated Staroffice. There he met a number of the other contestants. The young inventor knew some of them as men who had made reputations piloting fast automobiles, aeroplanes, or speed boats.
“Well, Kimball, what’s your game?” asked Tom of a man with whom he had several times raced at county fairs in autos.
“Tom, I’ve got ’em all beat, including you!” declared Jed Kimball, with a good-natured smile. “I’ve got an air hydroplane that’s a wonder. If I don’t circle the globe in fifteen days I won’t take a cent of the hundred thousand dollars.”
“Yes, you won’t!” Tom chuckled.
He turned to Bob Denman, a rich and sporty young fellow who had been in several balloon and aeroplane accidents. He loved sport for the sport of it.
“Well, Bob,” asked Tom, as he shook hands with him, “are you going in for it?”
“I sure am.”
“Balloon or skyplane?”
“Neither, Tom. I’m going by special trains and steamers. I’ll be back on the starting field waiting for the rest of you fellows to come and have lunch with me after I win that hundred thousand. You can boast all you like about fast motors, speed boats, and aeroplanes, but I’m going to go by regular lanes of travel. I’ve chartered five steamers and ten special trains to take me around the world. There won’t be a minute of delay, and I’ll finish as fresh as a daisy.”
“If you finish at all!” laughed Tom. “Who’s that?” he asked, pointing to an eccentric man who was nervously pacing the office while waiting for the newspaper officials to get the papers ready for final signing.
“Some Professor Modby,” was the millionaire sport’s answer. “He’s going in a new dirigible that uses a gas he claims he can make out of burning weeds, rotten potatoes or apples and, on a pinch, from green grass.”
“He must be crazy,” murmured Tom.
“Well, he’s got a queer looking machine,” stated Bob. “He showed me some photographs of it. Looks like a combination of one of your Airline Expresses and theLos Angeles.”
“Guess I haven’t much to fear from him,” thought Tom, for he knew how the big dirigibles suffer in stormy weather.
In a room opening out of the main one where the various contestants were gathered a self-important sounding voice was saying:
“Yes, I agreed to all your terms, and I want to add one of my own. That part of the prize money be devoted to charity. The concern I represent doesn’t need the cash. It is only going in to encourage others. So I would stipulate that part of the prize, which we expect to win, must go to charity.”
“If you win the hundred thousand, Mr. Kilborn,” stated Mr. Elliot, the managing editor of theIllustrated Star, “you may give it all to charity if you wish. But we cannot now, at this late hour, stipulate that. The prize will be paid in cash to the winner, and he may do as he pleases with it. Now if you will come out with the others we will sign the final papers.”
“Kilborn!” muttered Tom to Bob Denman. “Is that Dan Kilborn of the Red Arrow concern?”
“That’s the bird,” assented Bob. “He’s been fussing around here all morning, telling what a wonderful new hydroplane he has. Named after the company—Red Arrow. He says he’s going to burn up distance with it.”
“Let him try,” returned Tom, and then he caught a nod from the boastful Kilborn, whom he knew slightly.
“I’d like to ask him how much his tool Hussy told after his midnight visit to my shop,” thought Tom. But he did not want to start any unpleasant altercations in the newspaper office.
Dan Kilborn was an ace of the World War and had done well in France and had proved himself a brave man. After the end of the conflict he had gone into air racing, and since affiliating himself with the Red Arrow concern there were ugly stories going around that he was not fair to other contestants in sky races. Several other pilots had more or less openly accused Kilborn of banking so close to them as to endanger their planes. But Kilborn only laughed this off.
“If he tries any trick with me,” muttered Tom, “I’ll show him where he can get off, and I won’t provide a parachute, either!”
The terms of the contest were explained by Mr. Elliot, all present agreed to them and the final signatures were affixed. The start was to be made that day a week, from a large field in Long Island, whence all must start at once. From that field the air machines would take off, and those who were to cover the first leg of their journey in water craft must leave the field in autos which would convey them to the docks where their boats or hydroplanes were moored.
“Time will be counted as soon as the cannon is fired on the starting field,” said Mr. Elliot. “Contestants can travel in any way they choose, and the one back on the field in the shortest actual time, with proof that he has really circled the globe, will win. Now then, gentlemen, I wish you all the best of luck.”
Tom hurried back to Shopton. There were still some things to do on and about his craft, but a few days later all would be in readiness for the start. In order to get a chance to tune his craft up a day or so in advance of the actual start from Long Island, Tom planned to fly there and wait until the signal cannon was fired.
“But who are going to be the others of your crew?” asked Ned the day before the start for Long Island. “You said there would be five, but you, Peltok and I are only three. Is Mr. Damon going?”
“Bless my parachute, I wish I was!” exclaimed the eccentric man. “I’m going to put a big bet down on you, Tom, but I can’t go with you.”
“Why not?” asked Ned.
“My wife won’t let me. She says it’s too dangerous for an old man. Good night! I’m not old!” asserted Mr. Damon. He certainly was not, in spirit at least.
“I’ve got two young fellows who will form the others of the crew,” Tom said as Mary Nestor came to where he and Ned were standing. For there was to be a christening ceremony and Mary was to break a bottle of ginger ale on the sharp nose of theAir Monarch. “There they are now,” he added, as two figures approached.
“Why, Tom!” exclaimed Mary as she saw them, “those look like the two men who rescued you and me when the plane almost took a nose dive into the cranberry bog.”
“They not onlylooklike them but theyarethose lads,” chuckled Tom as he introduced Joe Hartman and Bill Brinkley to Ned.
They nodded and smiled at Mary. After the rescue Tom had made some inquiries about these automobile mechanics and, learning that Hartman had been an efficient flying man in France while Brinkley had managed one of the big tanks, Tom concluded they were just the men he wanted.
Accordingly, he had engaged them, much to their delight, and they were now ready to set off on the trip around the world. They went into raptures over the mechanical perfection of Tom’s latest machine.
“Well, Mary, I guess it’s up to you,” said Tom a little later when the invited guests had all assembled. “Do your stuff!”
“What do you mean, Tom?”
“I mean christen my bus.”
“Are you going to make a speech?”
“I am not!” was his hasty reply. “I’ve got enough else to do to get ready for the take-off to-morrow morning. Come on now, my dear, make it snappy!”
Mary made it snappy by cracking the bottle of ginger ale on the prow of the shining craft and murmuring:
“I christen youAir Monarch!”
“And long may she sail!” cried Ned.
After this the workmen and guests gave three cheers and the informal ceremony was over.
“Bless my fountain pen,” murmured Mr. Damon, a bit sadly as he looked at the beautiful machine, “I wish I was going!”
Tom, with the help of Ned, Peltok, and the two mechanics, spent the remainder of the day putting the finishing touches on theAir Monarch. Stores were taken aboard, together with a supply of a new form of gasoline Tom had perfected in spite of having been nearly blown up by it. There was not enough of this for the entire trip, and it was impossible to provide any at various stopping places or stations around the world. So what had been made was to be reserved for special occasions where great power or speed was needed.
“Well, I guess everything is ready for the hop-off to-morrow morning,” said Tom to Ned that night as they made a last inspection of theAir Monarchin her hangar, which stood in a field not far from Tom’s house. “I hope everything will be all right.”
“It won’t be your fault if it isn’t,” stated Ned. “But if any little thing wrong develops you’ll have time to tinker with it on the Long Island field, won’t you?”
“Oh, yes! But I don’t like these last-minute repairs. I’m hoping I sha'n’t have to make any.”
“Same here,” murmured Ned.
Tom and Ned were sleeping in adjoining rooms, and it must have been some time after midnight that they were awakened by hearing a commotion in the hangar where theAir Monarchwas kept. Several shots were fired, and Koku’s booming voice could be heard saying:
“Master! Master! Come! Bad man try to break in!”
“They’re after my machine!” yelled Tom, leaping from his bed and taking an automatic pistol that lay ready to his hand. Ned, too, leaped after his friend to do battle with the midnight prowlers.
CHAPTER IXTHEY'RE OFF!
Outinto the night rushed Tom Swift and Ned Newton. They quickly shook the sleep from them and were ready to fight. A noise and commotion in the vicinity of the hangar where theAir Monarchrested drew them in that direction. Several figures were seen rushing about in the gloom, and Ned easily made out the form of the giant.
“What’s the row, Koku?” yelled Tom.
“Bad mans!” was all the giant could say, and then Tom and his chum saw him start to run after a man who was trying to get away.
“Burglars, dat’s what dey is!” shouted Eradicate. “Tryin’ to steal yo’ new machine, Massa Tom!”
“They’ll have some job if they try to steal theAir Monarch!” the young inventor exclaimed. “I’ve got the motor doubly locked. But they may damage her.”
“Who?” asked Ned, as he ran on beside his chum.
“That bunch from the Red Arrow concern, I suspect,” was Tom’s answer. “There goes one!” he cried as a second figure, besides the one Koku was after, started away.
Tom sped after this fellow with Ned closely following. As the two ran on there came a sliver of flame in the darkness, followed by the report of a shot, and Koku yelled.
“They’ve winged the giant!” shouted Ned.
“It will take more than one bullet to stop him!” panted Tom.
Another shot was fired, and then came a yell of fear and terror. But it was not the voice of the giant It was the cry of an ordinary man, and Ned guessed what had happened and yelled:
“Koku got his man!”
This was proved a moment later as the giant shouted:
“Me got ’im! Me got ’im!”
Tom, however, was too busy chasing after his quarry to pay much attention to his big guard who, he expected, could look after himself.
The fellow Tom was chasing was running fast, but he was no match for the young inventor whose anger lent him added speed, and just as the retreating form reached the outer gate of the big fence which surrounded the hangar, Tom made a flying football tackle and downed his man.
“Let me go! Let me go!” the intruder pleaded.
“Not much I won’t!” panted Tom, as he got a firm hold on his man. “And I think I know who you are, too! Here, Ned! Bring that flashlight!” the inventor shouted.
A moment later the financial manager had joined his chum, aiding him in subduing the rascal. Then, when the fellow, thoroughly cowed, was taken in charge by several workmen who had been aroused by the alarm, the light was focused on his face.
“I thought so!” exclaimed Tom, as he scanned the features. “Hussy! You got trapped again, but in a different way!” chuckled Tom.
“If you know what’s good for you, let me go!” snarled the man, endeavoring to break away. But he was too firmly held for that.
“I’ll let you go after I start on my world trip, and not before!” declared Tom. “Hold him,” he directed to his men. “And we’ll see who Koku got!”
The giant and Eradicate could be heard approaching, the big man muttering again and again:
“Me got ’im! Me got ’im!”
While Eradicate, not to be left out, added:
“I help cotch him, too! I tripped him up wif mah foot!”
“Good work, Rad! And you, also, Koku!” cried Tom. “Bring him here!”
The second prisoner was placed alongside of Hussy, the latter scowling over his fate. Tom looked at the fellow Koku and Eradicate had caught, but found him a stranger.
“Though I don’t doubt,” said Tom to Ned, “that he’s one of the Red Arrow gang. Well, two in one night isn’t so bad. Lock ’em up, men,” he said to his employees, several more of whom came running up, for a general alarm had sounded throughout the works. Many of the mechanics lived close to the shops.
“Lock us up!” burst out Hussy. “You don’t dare do that!”
“Don’t I?” cried Tom angrily. “You’ll soon see! Why shouldn’t I dare, you trespassing, thieving rascal?”
Hussy and his companion, the latter saying nothing, were hustled off to one of the shops and locked in a steel enameling oven, where various parts of machinery were baked to give them a high polish. There was no fire under the oven when the prisoners were put in, of course, and the steel cage made a most effective jail.
“In the morning you’ll be locked in regular cells,” Tom said.
“You don’t dare hold us!” stormed Hussy.
“You’ve got another guess coming,” Tom chuckled. Then, when a guard had been posted near the prisoners, the young inventor asked Koku and Eradicate what had happened.
It developed that the two who were on guard had heard a disturbance shortly after midnight, and, investigating, had seen Hussy and his companion sneaking into the hangar. At once the colored man and the giant gave the alarm and rushed to capture the intruders, the end of the affair coming about when Tom and Ned joined the party.
“What was their game?” asked Ned, when he and Tom had made sure theAir Monarchhad not been tampered with.
“Well, they couldn’t hope to steal any of my patent ideas in time to add them to their machine,” decided Tom. “There isn’t opportunity for that, with the start of the race almost here. I think they were trying to disable my machine so I couldn’t start. Kilborn and his bunch know I’m the most dangerous rival in this globe-circling race, and with me out of the way they stand a good chance to win. They wanted to cripple theAir Monarch, I’m sure.”
“But they didn’t!” echoed Ned.
“No, they didn’t,” echoed Tom, “thanks to Rad and Koku.”
Additional guards were placed about the hangar for the remainder of the night, but there was no further disturbance and early in the morning Tom had the two prisoners, in spite of their strenuous objections, taken to the Shopton jail where they were held in default of heavy bail on a charge of breaking and entering with intent to steal. They had broken a lock on the big gate to get in, but had been detected in time.
“You’d better withdraw this charge against me, Swift!” stormed Hussy when he was being arraigned before being taken off to jail.
“Withdraw nothing!” snapped the young inventor. “You’re going to stay locked up a long time! Kilborn will have to get along without you and your pal!”
A dangerous look came into the eyes of the trapped man. He shook his fist at Tom when being led back to a cell and muttered:
“You’ll be sorry for this, Tom Swift!”
But Tom was not worried and hastened back to his hangar to make ready for the flight to Long Island whence the world race would start the following day.
There was little ceremony attendant upon the departure of Tom and his friends from Shopton, since Mr. Swift, Mary, and Mr. Damon had arranged to see them off in Long Island. When theAir Monarchhad been gone over finally by Tom and his mechanics, the craft was wheeled out of the hangar, the five who were to make the trip got into the cabin, and Tom, at the motor controls and steering levers, called:
“All clear?”
“All clear!” answered Mr. Jackson.
“Let’s go, then!” exclaimed the young inventor, and with a wave of his hand to his father, Mary, Mr. Damon, and the crowd of workmen, Tom pulled the starting lever.
The big propellers began whizzing, the machine moved across the smooth aero field with ever increasing speed, and a moment later took the air with the ease and lightness of a regular aeroplane and not like the heavy craft she was.
“Starts well!” observed Ned in the cabin beside his chum.
“Like a sewing machine!” said Tom.
Up and up he pointed the nose of his craft and they were soon headed for Long Island.
“Never have I ridden in a better craft,” declared Peltok who, with Brinkley and Hartman, was in charge of the machinery. “She is perfect!”
“That remains to be seen,” said Tom, though he was much pleased. “We haven’t really started yet.”
No attempt was made to get speed out of the craft on what was, practically, but another trial flight. But Tom knew he had plenty of power in reserve. TheAir Monarchhad been tried in the air, on land, and in water and had performed perfectly.
Under the skilled hands of the three mechanics the machine behaved well and in a comparatively short time she settled gracefully down on the field in Long Island and took her appointed place. Many other machines were already there, and others were constantly arriving. The field was a busy place. All contestants had to start from there, though those going in motor boats, or by trains and steamers would, as has been said, leave in autos which would take them to the beginning of the first leg of their journey. But time would start to be counted when the cannon boomed on the field.
There were two or three free balloons and several small dirigibles, including the one operated by Professor Modby and his crew. TheRed Arrowhydroplane was floating in Long Island Sound, not far away, and Kilborn planned to reach his craft in a speedy auto. He was walking about his car when Tom got out of theAir Monarch.
“So, that’s what you hope to win with, is it?” sneered Kilborn.
“That’s the little old bus!” said Tom, with a grin. “And I’m afraid you aren’t going to have all the company you counted on to be with you during your trip.”
“Company? What do you mean?”
“I mean that Hussy and the man you sent with him to tamper with my machine are arrested and locked up in the Shopton jail,” said Tom.
“Hussy arrested?” gasped Kilborn. “I told him—I mean I didn’t send him to do anything to your craft!” he cried quickly.
“Didn’t you?” asked Tom, with a smile. “Well, he didn’t get a chance to do anything, though he tried. But if you’re looking for Hussy—call up the jail!”
Kilborn muttered something under his breath and turned away.
“I guess that will hold him for a while,” chuckled Ned.
From then on Tom and his crew were kept busy. There were many last-minute things to be done and final adjustments to be made to the motors, as well as food supplies to put on board. So it was not until night that Tom and Ned found time to rest.
All the other contestants were equally busy, and many police were required to keep back the curious crowds. The start was to be made in the morning, and Tom and Ned arranged with some workmen from the shops to guard theAir Monarchzealously during the hours of darkness.
In spite of fears that something might happen, nothing did, and when morning dawned clear and bright it was seen that the day of the start was perfect. Tom and his crew were up early, making final changes and adjustments, as all the other contestants were doing.
Final instructions were given, and the rules gone over again to make sure all understood. Mr. Damon, Tom’s father, Mary and her father and other friends arrived by auto to see theAir Monarchtake off. All the other contestants had scores of friends also, so the field was a mass of humanity.
“There goes the warning gun!” cried Ned as a shot boomed out. “Are you all ready, Tom?”
“All ready!” was the answer.
“Stand clear!” came the order from Peltok.
“Good-bye, Mary! Good-bye!” called Tom to his sweetheart.
“Good-bye!” she echoed. “I know you’re going to win!”
“Thanks! I hope I shall!”
“Tom, remember, I’ve got my money on you!” said Mr. Swift, with a smile.
“I’ll not forget, Dad!”
“Bless my Liberty Bonds, I’ve got a bet on you myself, Tom!” exclaimed Mr. Damon. “Oh, dear!” he sighed, as he saw the final preparations for the start, “if it wasn’t for my wife I’d go, even now!”
“You just let me see you get on that ship!” said Mrs. Damon in a low voice close to her husband’s ear.
“Oh, I’m not going to, my dear! I’m not going to!” he said hastily.
“Ready?” called the official starter.
“Ready!” answered Tom Swift.
“Ready!” came from the other contestants.
“Boom!” echoed the big cannon.
“They’re off!” yelled the crowd, and with a roar of her exhaust pipes theAir Monarchshot across the field, followed by several other craft seeking to beat her.
The globe-circling race had started!
CHAPTER XACROSS THE OCEAN
“Theregoes theRed Arrow!” said Ned, standing beside Tom in the control cabin as theAir Monarchmounted the air and they could look down on the earth. “He made good time!”
“I’ll say he did,” agreed Tom, who was turning on a little more power, now that his craft was in the air. “Some bus he’s got there, too!”
TheRed Arrowhydroplane was, in truth, a craft not to be despised. Kilborn had left the starting field in a swift automobile. He had given orders that the motors of his hydroplane were to be kept turning over so that he could get aboard and start at once. This he had done, and, as she was moored not far from the aero field, had taken the air only a little behind Tom Swift.
“There goes the dirigible—I mean Modby’s,” went on Ned, who was viewing the start of the other contestants while Tom attended to the running of his machine.
“He must have had some trouble with his motors,” the inventor stated.
“He did,” agreed Ned. “He’s a bit late in starting. Well, I wish Modby all sorts of luck, but I’m afraid he hasn’t much of a chance.”
Professor Modby was considered a friendly rival, for he and Tom had been associated in aeroplane research on several occasions. TheCloud, as the big dirigible had been named, was now soaring into the air, but her speed was as nothing compared to that of theAir Monarch. Ned noticed, however, that theRed Arrowwas a very fast machine, and she might prove a dangerous rival, for she was not as heavy as Tom’s craft.
“But this is only the beginning,” murmured the young inventor, as he noticed how theRed Arrowwas picking up speed. “We’ve got to go twenty days yet—more or less,” he added, with a grim smile.
Bob Denman, the millionaire sport, had started from the flying field in a rush in one of his high-powered cars. He was off to catch a special train that would hurry him across the United States. He said he would take a special steamer in San Francisco, cross the Pacific, and then, by means of other special trains and boats, endeavor to come in ahead of everybody else.
Jed Kimball, in an aeroplane somewhat like theRed Arrow, also got off to a good start, but some of the other contestants, especially one in a free balloon, did not have such good luck. One of the big hydrogen gas balloons, of which there were several, was caught by an adverse wind soon after rising and entangled in a clump of trees. Tom and Ned had only time to observe this before they were out of sight, speeding on their way over the Atlantic Ocean.
There was no rule as to what direction the contestants must take in this world race. They could start east or west. Those who started west would cross the United States and then go over the Pacific, as Bob Denman planned to do. They would come to the Japanese Islands in due time, cross China, Persia, the top of Africa, perhaps go across the Mediterranean Sea and so reach the Atlantic. Crossing this they would again reach the eastern shore of America and so complete the circuit.
Tom’s plan, and that of theRed Arrowand several hydroplanes, dirigibles and other aircraft, was to cross the Atlantic first, then go over Europe and Asia, reach the Pacific, and eventually get to the western coast of the United States, crossing that as the last leg of their journey.
When he had seen to it that the motors were working well under the care of Peltok, Brinkley and Hartman, Tom let the linguistic foreigner take the controls while he and Ned went to their stateroom, which they shared in common, to go over the route in detail.
“This is going to be our route, Ned,” said Tom, as he laid a large map on the table and pointed to a red line approximately running along the fortieth degree of north latitude. “We’ll cruise due east from where we started, bearing a bit south, and head for the Azores.”
“Going to land there?”
“Not unless we have to,” said Tom. “We’re going to keep moving all the while.”
“At the rate of two hundred and fifty miles an hour,” said Ned, “we can——”
“We can’t keep up a speed of two fifty per hour for more than a little stretch at a time,” interrupted Tom. “In fact, I don’t expect to reach that rate for another day. It would rack my engines to pieces to maintain it for any length of time. I can do it, but I’m going to save that burst of speed for emergencies. No, if we can average a hundred miles an hour in the air we’ll be doing well. And when we have to land and taxi along, or when we have to go as a boat, we won’t do that, of course.”
“Where do you go from the Azores?” asked Ned.
“We don’t exactly go to the Azores Islands,” corrected Tom. “We’ll fly above them if I hit the right route. From there we head for Spain, move along across the Mediterranean and over the northern part of Turkey and then across China. We may land in the Philippines before we complete the trip across the Pacific.”
“And then from there you’ll head for San Francisco I take it?” asked Ned.
“That’s the idea. You know, don’t you, that I had the Airline Express sent on to ’Frisco to be held in readiness there?”
“Yes, you told me you did,” admitted Ned. “But I didn’t quite grasp the idea.”
“Simply providing for emergencies,” went on Tom. “TheAir Monarchmay have a breakdown when we get over the United States again, and if an Express machine is waiting for me I can just hop aboard her and complete the trip—on time I hope.”
Ned turned again to the route map, and then glanced out of the cabin windows.
“We seem to be having it all our own way for the present. Nothing else is in sight,” he stated.
“It’s getting a bit hazy,” remarked Tom as he glanced at several gages and distance indicators on the wall. “We’re over the ocean now.”
“Over the Atlantic so soon?” cried Ned. “That’s right, quite a way out too, I hope,” he added. “Let’s see what Peltok says.”
They went to the steering compartment where the man who spoke so many languages was guiding the craft.
“We are a hundred miles out from the end of Long Island,” Peltoc stated, after making some computations.
“Whew!” whistled Ned. “A hundred miles and we haven’t been going an hour.”
“Oh, yes, it’s a little longer than that,” said Peltok, with a smile. “But we are making fairly good time. I have increased the speed a little,” he said to Tom.
“That’s right. We want to make all the distance we can while the weather is good and while we have daylight. Night flying is going to slow us up a bit. If you don’t believe you’re pretty well out, Ned, look down!” invited Tom.
He pulled a lever and Ned gave a cry as the bottom of the craft seemed to open, disclosing below him heaving ocean waves!