CHAPTER XII
THE CRY FOR HELP
"All ready, Mr. Damon?" asked Tom, as he looked to see that all thelevers, wheels, valves, and other controls were in working order on hisAir Scout.
"As ready as I ever shall be, Tom," was the answer. "I don't know whyit is, but somehow I feel that something is going to happen on thistrip."
"Nonsense!" laughed Tom. "You're nervous; that's all."
"I suppose so. Don't think I'm going to back out, or anything likethat, but I wish it were successfully over with, Tom Swift, I mostcertainly do."
"It will be in a little while," returned Tom, as he settled himselfcomfortably in his seat and pulled the safety strap tight. "You've goneup in this same plane before, when it didn't have the silent motoraboard."
"Yes, I know I have. Oh, I dare say it will be all right, Tom. Andyet, somehow, I can't help feeling--"
But Tom Swift felt that the best way to set Mr. Damon's premonitions torest was to start the motor, and this he gave orders to have done,Jackson and some others of the men from the shops congregating aboutthe craft to see the beginning of the night flight. Mr. Swift was therealso, and Eradicate. Mary Nestor had been invited, but her Red Crosswork engaged her that evening, she said. Ned Newton was away from townon Liberty Bond business, and he could not be present at the test.
However, as Tom expected to have other trials when his motor was ineven better shape, he was not exactly sorry for the absence of hisfriends.
"Contact!" called the young inventor, when Jackson had stepped back,indicating it was time to throw over the switch.
"Let her go!" cried Tom, and the next moment the motor was inoperation, but so silently that his voice and that of Mr. Damon's couldeasily be heard above the machinery.
"Good, Tom! That's good!" cried Mr. Swift, and Tom easily heard hisfather's voice, though under other, and ordinary, circumstances thiswould have been impossible.
True, the hearing of Tom and Mr. Damon was muffled to a certain extentby the heavy leather and fur-lined caps they wore. But Tom had severalsmall eyelet holes set into the flaps just over the opening of theears, and these holes were sufficient to admit sounds, while keepingout most of the cold that obtains in the upper regions.
The aeroplane moved swiftly along the level starting ground, and awayfrom the lighted hangars. Faster and faster it swung along as Tomheaded it into the wind, and then, as the speed of the motor increased,the Air Scout suddenly left the earth and went soaring aloft as she haddone before.
But there was this difference. She moved almost as silently as a greatowl which swoops down out of the darkness--a bit of the velvetyblackness itself. Up and up, and onward and onward, went the Air Scout.Tom Swift's improved, silent motor urged it onward, and as the younginventor listened to catch the noise of the machinery, his heart gave abound of hope. For he could detect only very slight sounds.
"She's a success!" exulted Tom to himself. "She's a success, but sheisn't perfect yet," he added. "I've got to make the muffler bigger andput in more baffle-plates. Then I think I can turn the trick."
He swung the machine out over the open country, and then, when theywere up at a height and sailing along easily, he called back to Mr.Damon in the seat behind him:
"How do you like it?"
"Great!" exclaimed the eccentric man. "Bless my postage stamp, but it'sgreat! Why, there's hardly a sound, Tom, and I can hear you quiteeasily."
"And I can hear you," added Tom. "I don't believe, down below there,"and he nodded toward the earth, though Mr. Damon could not see this, asthe airship, save for a tiny light over the instrument board, was indarkness, "they know that we're flying over their heads."
"I agree with you," was the answer. "Tom, my boy, I believe you'vesolved the trick! You have produced a silent aeroplane, and now it's upto the government to make use of it."
"I'm not quite ready for that yet," replied the young inventor. "Ihave several improvements to make. But, when they are finished, I'lllet Uncle Sam know what I have. Then it's up to him."
"And you must be careful, Tom, that some of your rivals don't hear ofyour success and get it away from you," warned Mr. Damon, as Tom guidedthe Air Scout along the aerial way--an unlighted and limitless path inthe silent darkness.
"Oh, they'll have to get up pretty early in the morning to do that!"boasted Tom, and afterward he was to recall those words with a bit ofchagrin.
On and on they sailed, and as Tom increased the speed of the motor, andnoted how silently it ran, he began to have high hopes that he hadbuilded better than he knew. For even with the motor running at almostfull speed there was not noise enough to hinder talk between himselfand Mr. Damon.
Of course there was some little sound. Even the most perfect electricmotor has a sort of hum which can be detected when one is close to it.But at a little distance a great dynamo in operation appears to besilence itself.
"I can go this one better, though," said Tom as he sailed along in thenight. "I see where I've made a few mistakes in the baffle plate of thesilencer. I'll correct that and--"
As he spoke the machine gave a lurch, and the motor, instead ofremaining silent, began to cough and splutter as in the former days.
"Bless my rubber boots, Tom! what's the matter?" cried Mr. Damon.
"Something's gone wrong," Tom answered, barely able to hear and makehimself heard above the sudden noise. "I'll have to shut off the powerand glide down. We can make a landing in this big field," for just thenthe moon came out from behind a cloud, and Tom saw, below them, a greatmeadow, not far from the home of Mary Nestor. He had often landed inthis same place.
"Something has broken in the muffler, I think, letting out some of theexhaust," he said to Mr. Damon, for, now that the motor was shut off,Tom could speak in his ordinary tones. "I'll soon have it fixed, or, ifI can't, we can go back in the old style--with the machine making asmuch racket as it pleases."
So Tom guided the machine down. It went silently now, of course,making, with the motor shut off, no more sound than a falling leaf.Down to the soft, springy turf in the green meadow Tom guided themachine. As it came to a stop, and he and Mr. Damon got out, there wasborne to their ears a wild cry:
"Help! Help!"