"Well," remarked Mr. Sharp, when Tom and Mr. Damon hadcalled on him, to state that Andy Foger's machine was now onthe grounds, and demanding to be allowed to view it, to seeif it was an infringement on the one entered by the younginventor, "I'll do the best I can for you. I'll lay the casebefore the committee. It will meet at once, and I'll let youknow what they say."
"Understand," said Tom, "I don't want to interfere unlessI am convinced that Andy is trying an underhand trick. Myplans are missing, and I think he took them. If his machineis made after those plans, it is, obviously, a steal, and Iwant him ruled out of the meet."
"And so he shall be!" exclaimed Mr. Sharp. "Get theevidence against him, and we'll act quickly enough."
The committee met in about an hour, and considered thecase. Meanwhile, Tom and Mr. Damon strolled past the tentwith its flaring sign. There was a man on guard, but Andywas not in sight.
Then Tom was sent for, and Mr. Sharp told him whatconclusion had been arrived at. It was this:
"Under the rules of the meet," said the balloonist, "wehad to guarantee privacy to all the contestants until suchtime as they choose to exhibit their machines. That is, theyneed not bring them out until just before the races," headded. "This is not a handicap affair, and the speediestmachine, or the one that goes to the greatest height,according to which class it enters, will win. In consequencewe cannot force any contestant to declare what kind of amachine he will use until he gets ready.
"Some are going to use the familiar type of biplanes and,as you can see, there is no secret about them. They aretrying them out now." This was so, for several machines ofthis type were either in the air, circling about, or werebeing run over the ground.
"But others," continued Mr. Sharp, "will not even take thecommittee into their confidence until just before the race.They want to keep their craft a secret. We can't compel themto do otherwise. I'm sorry, Tom, but the only thing I seefor you to do is to wait until the last minute. Then, if youfind Andy has infringed on your machine, lodge a protest--that is unless you can get evidence against him before thattime."
Tom well knew the uselessness of the latter plan. He andMr. Damon had tried several times to get a glimpse of thecraft Andy had made, but without success. As to the otheralternative--that of waiting until the last moment--Tomfeared that, too, would be futile.
"For," he reasoned, "just before the race there will be alot of confusion, officials will be here and there,scattered over the ground, they will be hard to find, and itwill be almost useless to protest then. Andy will enter therace, and there is a possibility that he may win. Almost anyone could with a machine like the Humming-Bird. It's themachine almost as much as the operator, in a case likethis."
"But you can protest after the race," suggested Mr. Damon.
"That would be little good, in case Andy beat me. Thepublic would say I was a sorehead, and jealous. No, I'veeither got to stop Andy before the race, or not at all. Iwill try to think of a plan."
Tom did think of several, but abandoned them one after theother. He tried to get a glimpse inside the tent where theFoger aeroplane Was housed, but it was too closely guarded.Andy himself was not much in evidence, and Tom only hadfleeting glimpses of the bully.
Meanwhile he and Mt Damon, together with their machinist,were kept busy. As Tom's craft was fully protected bypatents now, he had no hesitation in taking it out, and itwas given several severe tests around the aerial course. Itdid even better than Tom expected of it, and he had greathopes.
Always, though, there were two things that worried him.One was his father's illness, and the other the uneasinesshe felt as to what Andy Foger might do. As to the former,the wireless reports indicated that Mr. Swift was doing aswell as could be expected, but his improvement was notrapid. Regarding the latter worry, Tom saw no way of gettingrid of it.
"I've just got to wait, that's all," he thought.
The day before the opening of the meet, Tom and Mr. Damonhad given the Humming-Bird a grueling tryout. They had takenher high up--so high that no prying eyes could time them,and there Tom had opened the motor for all the power in it.They had flashed through space at the rate of one hundredand twenty miles an hour.
"If we can only do that in the race, the ten thousanddollars is mine!" exulted Tom, as he slanted the nose of theaeroplane toward the earth.
The day of the race dawned clear and beautiful. Tom was upearly, for there remained many little things to do to gethis craft in final trim for the contest. Then, too, hewanted to be ready to act promptly as soon as Andy's machinewas wheeled out, and he also wanted to get a message fromhome.
The wireless arrived soon after breakfast, and did notcontain very cheering news.
"Your father not so well," Mr. Jackson sent. "Poor night,but doctor thinks day will show improvement. Don't worry."
"Don't worry! I wonder who could help it," mused poor Tom."Well, I'll hope for the best," and he wired back to tellthe engineer in Shopton to keep in touch with him, and toflash the messages to the Humming-Bird in the air, after thebig race started.
"Now I'll go out and see if I can catch a glimpse of whatthat sneak Andy has to pit against me," said Tom.
The Foger tent was tightly closed, and Tom turned back tohis own place, having arranged with a messenger to come andlet him know as soon as Andy's craft was wheeled out.
All about was a scene of great activity. The grand standswere filled, and a big crowd stood about the field anxiouslywaiting for the first sight of the "bird-men" in theirwonderful machines. Now and then the band blared out, andcheers arose as one after another the frail craft werewheeled to the starting place.
Men in queer leather costumes darted here and there-theywere the aviators who were soon to risk life and limb forglory and gold. Most of them were nervously smokingcigarettes. The air was filled with guttural German or nasalFrench, while now and then the staccato Russian was heard,and occasionally the liquid tones of a Japanese. For men ofmany nations were competing for the prizes.
The majority of the machines were monoplanes and biplanesthough one triplane was entered, and there were several"freaks" as the biplane and monoplane men called them--craftof the helicopter, or the wheel type. There was also oneWitzig Liore Dutilleul biplane, with three planes behind.
Tom was familiar with most of these types, butoccasionally he saw a new one that excited his curiosity.However, he was more interested in what Andy Foger wouldturn out. Andy's machine had not been tried, and Tomwondered how he dared risk flying in it, without at least apreliminary tryout. But Andy, and those with him, wereevidently full of confidence.
News of the suspicions of Tom, and what he intended to doin case these suspicions proved true, had gotten around, andthere was quite a crowd about his own tent, and anotherthrong around that of Andy.
Tom and Mr. Damon had wheeled the Humming-Bird out of hercanvas "nest.". There was a cheer as the crowd caught sightof the trim little craft. The young inventor, the eccentricman, and the machinist were busy going over every part.
Meanwhile the meet had been officially opened, and it wasannounced that the preliminary event would be some airevolutions at no great height, and for no particular prize.Several biplanes and monoplanes took part in this. It wasvery interesting, but the big ten-thousand-dollar race, overa distance of a hundred miles was the principal feature ofthe meet, and all waited anxiously for this.
The opening stunts passed off successfully, save that aGerman operator in a Bleriot came to grief, crashing down tothe ground, wrecking his machine, and breaking an arm. Buthe only laughed at that, and coolly demanded anothercigarette, as he crawled out of the tangle of wires, planesand the motor.
After this there was an exhibition flight by a Frenchaviator in a Curtis biplane, who raced against one in a BabyWright. It was a dead heat, according to the judges. Thencame a flight for height; and while no records were broken,the crowd was well satisfied.
"Get ready for the hundred-mile ten-thousand-dollar-prizerace!" shouted the announcer, through his megaphone.
Tom's heart gave a bound. There were seven entrants inthis contest besides Tom and Andy Foger, and as announced bythe starter they were as follows:
CONTESTANT MACHINEVon Bergen.................Wright BiplaneAlameda..............Antoinette MonoplanePerique.................Bleriot MonoplaneLoi Tong..........Santos-Dumont MonoplaneWendell....................Curtis BiplaneDe Tromp...................Farman BiplaneLascalle.............Demoiselle MonoplaneAndy Foger.................--------------Tom Swift..........Humming-Bird Monoplane
"What is the style of the Foger machine?" yelled some onein the crowd, as the announcer lowered his megaphone.
"It has not been announced," was the reply. "It will atonce be wheeled out though, in accordance with theconditions of the race."
There was a craning of necks, and an uneasy movement inthe crowd, for Tom's story was now generally known.
"Get ready to make your protest," advised Mr. Damon to theyoung inventor. "I'll stay by the machine here until youcome back. Bless my radiator! I hope you beat him!"
"I will, if it's possible!" murmured Tom, with a grimtightening of his lips.
There was a movement about Andy's tent, whence, for thelast half hour had come spasmodic noises that indicated thetrying-out of the motor. The flaps were pulled back and acurious machine was wheeled into view. Tom rushed overtoward it, intent on getting the first view. Would it proveto be a copy of his speedy Humming-Bird?
Eagerly he looked, but a curious sight met his eyes. Themachine was totally unlike any he had expected to see. Itwas large, and to his mind rather clumsy, but it lookedpowerful. Then, as he took in the details, he knew that itwas the same one that had flown over his house that night --it was the one from which the fire bomb had been dropped.
He pushed his way through the crowd. He saw Andy standingnear the curious biplane, which type of air craft it nearestresembled, though it had some monoplane features. On theside was painted the name:
SLUGGER
Andy caught sight of Tom Swift.
"I'm going to beat you!" the bully boasted, and I haven'ta machine like yours, after all. You were wrong."
"So I see," stammered Tom, hardly knowing what to think."What did you do with my plans then?"
"I never had them!"
Andy turned away, and began to assist the men he had hiredto help him. Like all the others, his machine had two seats,for in this race each operator must carry a passenger.
Tom turned away, both glad and sorry,--glad that his rivalwas not to race him in a duplicate of the Humming-Bird, butsorry that he had as yet no track of the strangely missingplans.
"I wonder where they can be?" mused the young inventor.
Then came the firing of the preliminary gun. Tom rushedback to where Mr. Damon stood waiting for him.
There was a last lock at the Humming-Bird. She was fit torace any machine on the ground. Mr. Damon took his place.Tom started the propeller. The other contestants were intheir seats with their passengers. Their assistants stoodready to shove them off. The explosions of so many motors inaction were deafening.
"How much thrust?" cried Tom to his machinist.
"Twenty-two hundred pounds!"
"Good!"
The report of the starting-gun could not be heard. But thesmoke of it leaped into the air. It was the signal to go.
Tom's voice would not have carried five feet. He waved hishands as a signal. His helper thrust the Humming-Birdforward. Over the smooth ground it rushed. Tom lookedeagerly ahead. On a line with him were the other machines,including Andy Foger's Slugger.
Tom pulled a lever. He felt his craft soar upward. Theother machines also pointed their noses into the air.
The big race for the ten-thousand-dollar prize was under way!