Chapter 4

  A Trial Trip

  There was no fear that Anson Morse would return to the attack. Blindedby the whitewash which ran in his eyes, but which, being slaked, didnot burn him, he grouped blindly about, pawing the air with hisoutstretched hands.

  "You wait! You wait! You'll suffer for this!" he spluttered, as soon ashe could free his mouth from the trickling fluid. Then, wiping it fromhis face, with his hands, as best he could, he shook his fist at Tom."I'll pay you and that black rascal back!" he cried. "You wait!"

  "I hopes yo' pays me soon," answered Eradicate, "'case as how datwhitewash was wuff twenty-five cents, an' I got t' go git mo' to finishdoin' a chicken coop I'm wurkin' on. Whoa, dar Boomerang. Dere ain'tgoin' t' be no mo' trouble I reckon."

  Morse did not reply. He had been most unexpectedly repulsed, and, withthe white-wash dripping from his garments, he turned and fairly rantoward a strip of woodland that bordered the highway at that place.

  Tom approached the colored man, and held out a welcoming hand.

  "I don't know what I'd done if you hadn't come along, Rad," the ladsaid. "That fellow was desperate, and this was a lonely spot to beattacked. Your whitewash came in mighty handy."

  "Yais, sah, Mistah Swift, dat's what it done. I knowed I could use iton him, ef he got too obstreperous, an' dat's what he done. But I weregoin' to fight him wif mah bresh, ef he'd made any more trouble."

  "Oh, I fancy we have seen the last of him for some time," said Tom, buthe looked worried. It was evident that the Happy Harry gang was stillhanging around the neighborhood of Shopton, and the fact that Morse wasbold enough to attack our hero in broad day-light argued that he feltlittle fear of the authorities.

  "Ef yo' wants t' catch him, Mistah Swift," went on Eradicate, "yo' kintrace him by de whitewash what drops offen him," and he pointed to atrail of white drops which showed the path Morse had taken.

  "No, the less I have to do with him the better I like it," answered thelad. "But I can't thank you enough, Rad. You have helped me out ofdifficulties several times now. You put me on the trail of the men inthe deserted mansion, you warned me of the log Andy Foger placed acrossthe road, and now you have saved me from Morse."

  "Oh, dat's nuffin, Mistah Swift. Yo' has suah done lots fo' me.'Sides, mah mule, Boomerang, am entitled t' de most credit dish yeahtime. I were comin' down de street, on mah way t' a whitewashin' job,when I seen yo', an yo' lickitysplit machine," for so Eradicatedesignated a motorcycle. "I knowed it were yo', an' I didn't laik delooks ob dat man. Den I see he had hold ob you, an' I t'ought he were aburglar. So I yelled t' Boomerang t' hurry up. Now, mostly, when Iwants Boomerang t' hurry, he goes slow, an' when I wants him t' goslow, he runs away. But dish yeah time he knowed he were comin' t' helpyo', an' he certainly did leg it, dat's what he done! He run laik hewere goin' home t' a stable full ob oats, an' dat's how I got heah soquick. Den I t'ought ob de whitewash, an' I jest used it."

  "It was the most effective weapon you could have used," said Tom,gratefully.

  "Deed no, Mistah Swift, I didn't hab no weapon," spoke Eradicateearnestly. "I ain't eben got mah razor, 'case I left it home. I didn'thab no weapon at all. I jest used de whitewash, laik yo' seen me."

  "That's what I meant," answered Tom, trying not to laugh at the simplenegro's misunderstanding. "I'm ever so much obliged to you, just thesame, and here's a half dollar to pay for the whitewash."

  "Oh, no, Mistah Swift, I doan't want t' take it. I kin make mo'whitewash."

  But Tom insisted, and picked up his machine to sprint for home.Eradicate started to tell over again, how he urged Boomerang on, butthe lad had no time to listen.

  "But I didn't hab no weapon, Mistah Swift, no indeedy, none at all, noteven mah razor," repeated Eradicate. "Only de pail ob whitewash. Thatis, lessen yo' calls mah bresh a weapon."

  "Well, it's a sort of one," admitted Tom, with a laugh as he startedhis machine. "Come around next week, Rad. We have some dirt eradicatingfor you to attend to."

  "Deed an' I will, Mistah Swift. Eradicate is mah name, an' I eradicatesde dirt. But dat man such did look odd, wif dat pail ob whitewash allober him. He suah did look most extraordinarily. Gidap, Boomerang. Seeif yo' can break some mo' speed records now."

  But the mule appeared to be satisfied with what he had done, and, as herode off, Tom looked back to see the colored man laboring to get thesleepy, animal started.

  The lad did not tell his father of the adventure with Morse, but herelated the occurrence to Mr. Sharp.

  "I'd like to get hold of that scoundrel, and the others in the gang!"exclaimed the balloonist. "I'd take him up in the airship, and drop himdown into the lake. He's a bad man. So are the others. Wonder what theywant around here?"

  "That's what's puzzling me," admitted Tom. "I hope dad doesn't hearabout them or he will be sure to worry; and maybe it will interferewith his new ideas."

  "He hasn't told you yet what he's engaged in inventing; has he?"

  "No, and I don't like to ask him. He said the other day, though, thatit would rival our airship, but in a different way."

  "I wonder what he meant?"

  "It's hard to say. But I don't believe he can invent anything that willgo ahead of our craft, even if he is my own father, and the best one inthe world," said Tom, half jokingly. "Well, I got the bolts, now let'sget to work. I'm anxious for a trial trip."

  "No more than I am. I want to see if my ideas will work out in practiceas well as they do in theory."

  For a week or more Tom and Mr. Sharp labored on the airship, with Mr.Jackson to help them. The motor, with its twenty cylinders, wasinstalled, and the big aluminum holder fastened to the frame of theplanes. The rudders, one to control the elevation and depression of thecraft, and the other to direct its flight to the right or left, wereattached, and the steering wheel, as well as the levers regulating themotor were put in place.

  "About all that remains to be done now," said the aeronaut one night,as he and Tom stood in the big shed, looking at their creation, "is tofit up the car, and paint the machine."

  "Can't we make a trial trip before we fit up the car ready for a longflight?" asked the young inventor.

  "Yes, but I wouldn't like to go out without painting the ship. Someparts of it might rust if we get into the moist, cloudy, upper regions."

  "Then let's paint it to-morrow, and, as soon as it's dry we'll have atest."

  "All right. I'll mix the paint the first thing in the morning."

  It took two days to paint the machine, for much care had to be used,and, when it was finished Tom looked admiringly up at it.

  "We ought to name it," suggested Mr. Sharp, as he removed a bit ofpaint from the end of the nose.

  "To be sure," agreed Tom. "And hold on, I have the very name forit--Red Cloud!"

  "Red Cloud?" questioned Mr. Sharp.

  "Yes!" exclaimed Tom, with enthusiasm. "It's painted red--at least thebig, aluminum gas container is--and we hope to go above the clouds init. Why not Red Cloud?"

  "That's what it shall be!" conceded the balloonist. "If I had a bottleof malted milk, or something like that, I'd christen it."

  "We ought to have a young lady to do that part," suggested Tom. "Theyalways have young ladies to name ships."

  "Were you thinking of any particular young lady?" asked Mr. Sharpsoftly, and Tom blushed; as he replied:

  "Oh no--of course that is--well--Oh, hang it, christen it yourself, andlet me alone," he finished.

  "Well, in the absence of Miss Mary Nestor, who, I think, would be thebest one for the ceremony," said Mr. Sharp, with a twinkle in his eyes,"I christen thee Red Cloud," and with that he sprinkled some water onthe pointed nose of the red aluminum gas bag, for the aeronaut and Tomwere on a high staging, on a level with the upper part of the airship.

  "Red Cloud it is!" cried Tom, enthusiastically. "Now, to-morrow we'llsee what it can do."

  The day of the test proved all that could be desired in the way ofweather. The fact that an airship was being constructe
d in the Swiftshops had been kept as secret as possible, but of course many inShopton knew of it, for Andy Foger had spread the tidings.

  "I hope we won't have a crowd around to see us go up," said Tom, as heand Mr. Sharp went to the shed to get the Red Cloud in readiness forthe trial. "I shouldn't want to have them laugh at us, if we fail torise."

  "Don't worry. We'll go up all right," declared Mr. Sharp. "The onlything I'm at all worried about is our speed. I want to go fast, but wemay not be able to until our motor gets 'tuned-up'. But we'll rise."

  The gas machine had already been started, and the vapor was hissinginside the big aluminum holder. It was decided to try to go up underthe lifting power of the gas, and not use the aeroplane feature forsending aloft the ship, as there was hardly room, around the shops, fora good start.

  When enough of the vapor had been generated to make the airshipbuoyant, the big doors of the shed were opened, and Tom and Mr. Sharp,with the aid of Garret and Mr. Swift, shoved it slowly out.

  "There it is! There she comes!" cried several voices outside the highfence that surrounded the Swift property. "They're going up!"

  "Andy Foger is in that bunch," remarked Tom with a grim smile. "I hopewe don't fail."

  "We won't. Don't worry," advised Mr. Sharp.

  The shouts outside the fence increased. It was evident that quite acrowd of boys, as well as men, had collected, though it was early inthe morning. Somehow, news of the test had leaked out.

  The ship continued to get lighter and lighter as more gas wasgenerated. It was held down by ropes, fastened to stakes driven in theground. Mr. Sharp entered the big car that was suspended, below theaeroplanes.

  "Come on, Tom," the aeronaut called. "We're almost ready to fly. Willyou come too, Mr. Swift, and Garret?"

  "Some other time," promised the aged inventor. "It looks as though youwere going to succeed, though. I'll wait, however, until after the testbefore I venture."

  "How about you, Garret?" asked Tom of the engineer, as the younginventor climbed into the car.

  "The ground is good enough for me," was the answer, with a smile."Broken bones don't mend so easily when you're past sixty-five."

  "But we're not going to fall!" declared Mr. Sharp. "All ready, Tom.Cast off! Here we go!"

  The restraining ropes were quickly cast aside. Slowly at first, andthen with a rush, as though feeling more and more sure of herself, theRed Cloud arose in the air like a gigantic bird of scarlet plumage. Upand up it went, higher than the house, higher than the big shed whereit had been built, higher, higher, higher!

  "There she is!" cried the shrill voices of the boys in the meadow, andthe hoarser tones of the men mingled with them.

  "Hurrah!" called Tom softly to the balloonist. "We're off!" and hewaved his hand to his father and Garret.

  "I told you so," spoke Mr. Sharp confidently. "I'm going to start thepropellers in a minute."

  "Oh, dear me, goodness sakes alive!" cried Mrs. Baggert, thehousekeeper, running from the house and wringing her hands. "I'm surethey'll fall!"

  She looked up apprehensively, but Tom only waved his hand to her, andthrew her a kiss. Clearly he had no fears, though it was the first timehe had ever been in an airship. Mr. Sharp was as calm and collected asan ocean captain making his hundredth trip across the Atlantic.

  "Throw on the main switch," he called to our hero, and Tom, moving toamidships in the car, did as directed. Mr. Sharp pulled several levers,adjusted some valves, and then, with a rattle and bang, the huge,twenty-cylinder motor started.

  Waiting a moment to see that it was running smoothly, Mr. Sharp graspedthe steering wheel. Then, with a quick motion he threw the twopropellers in gear. They began to whirl around rapidly.

  "Here we go!" cried Tom, and, sure enough, the Red Cloud, now fivehundred feet in the air, shot forward, like a boat on the water, onlywith such a smooth, gliding, easy motion, that it seemed like beingborne along on a cloud.

  "She works! She works!" cried the balloonist. "Now to try our elevationrudder," and, as the Red Cloud gathered speed, he tilted the smallplanes which sent the craft up or down, according to the manner inwhich they were tilted. The next instant the airship was pointed at anangle toward the clouds, and shooting along at swift speed, while, frombelow came the admiring cheers of the crowd of boys and men.

 
Victor Appleton's Novels
»Tom Swift and His Motor-Cycle; Or, Fun and Adventures on the Roadby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His Airshipby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His Submarine Boat; Or, Under the Ocean for Sunken Treasureby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His Electric Runabout; Or, The Speediest Car on the Roadby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His War Tank; Or, Doing His Bit for Uncle Samby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His Electric Rifle; Or, Daring Adventures in Elephant Landby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His Big Tunnel; Or, The Hidden City of the Andesby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His Giant Telescopeby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His Motor-Boat; Or, The Rivals of Lake Carlopaby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His Wireless Message; Or, The Castaways of Earthquake Islandby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His Aerial Warship; Or, The Naval Terror of the Seasby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His Electric Locomotive; Or, Two Miles a Minute on the Railsby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift in the City of Gold; Or, Marvelous Adventures Undergroundby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His Wizard Camera; Or, Thrilling Adventures While Taking Moving Picturesby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift in the Caves of Ice, or, the Wreck of the Airshipby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His Undersea Search; Or, the Treasure on the Floor of the Atlanticby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift and His Air Scout; Or, Uncle Sam's Mastery of the Skyby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift in Captivity, Or, A Daring Escape By Airshipby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift in the Land of Wonders; Or, The Underground Search for the Idol of Goldby Victor Appleton
»Tom Swift Among the Fire Fighters; Or, Battling with Flames from the Airby Victor Appleton