(Tom Swift #3) Chapter 15: Fired Upon

Chapter 15: Fired Upon

Tom's excited call to the aeronaut, telling of the mishap to Mr. Damon, was answered immediately. Mr. Sharp jumped forward from the motor compartment, and, passing on his way the electric switch, he yanked it out, stopping the machinery, and the great propellers. Then he leaped out on the platform.

But something else happened. Just before the accident to the eccentric man, desiring to give a further test to the planes, the gas had been shut off, making the airship an aeroplane instead of a dirigible balloon. Consequently, as soon as the forward motion ceased the great ship began falling.

"We're sinking! We're sinking!" cried Tom, forgetting for a moment that he was not in his motor-boat.

"Slant your rudder up, and glide downward as slowly as you can!" directed Mr. Sharp. "I'll start the engine again as soon as I rescue him," for it was risky to venture out on the platform with the propeller whirring, as the dangling piece of scarf might whip around the balloonist and toss him off.

Mr. Sharp was soon at Mr. Damon's side. He saw that the man was unconscious, whether from fright or some injury could not then be determined. There was, however, no sign of a wound.

It was no easy task to carry, half dragging it, the heavy body of Mr. Damon off the platform, but the aeronaut was a muscular individual, and long hanging from a trapeze, at great heights, stood him in good stead.

He brought the unconscious man into the cabin, and then, quickly returning to the platform, he detached the piece of scarf from the propeller blade. Next he started the motor, and also turned on the gas tank, so that the airship, in a few minutes, could float in space without motion.

"You needn't steer now, Tom," said the balloonist. "Just give me a hand here."

"Is—is he dead?" inquired the lad, his voice faltering.

"No, his heart's beating. I can't understand what happened."

Mr. Sharp was something of a rough and ready surgeon and doctor, and a small box of medicines had been brought along in case of emergencies. With the Red Cloud now lazily floating in the air, for, once the falling motion had been checked by the engine, the motor had been stopped again, Mr. Sharp set about restoring Mr. Damon to consciousness.

( It was not long before the man opened his eyes. The color that had left his cheeks came back, and, after a drink of cold water he was able to sit up. )

(Tom Swift #3) Chapter 16: Over a Fiery Furnace

Chapter 16: Over a Fiery Furnace

Down below, the aeronauts could see the crowd, led by the police, scurrying to and fro. Many individuals beside the officers appeared to be holding weapons, and, from the puffs of smoke that spurted out, it was evident that more shots were being fired. But the bullets could do no harm, and the Red Cloud, under the force of the rapidly revolving propellers, was soon beyond the center of the city.

"Well, if that isn't the limit!" cried Tom. "They must have taken us for a German war balloon, about to drop explosives on them."

"Bless my liver!" ejaculated Mr. Damon, "I believe you're right. Eh, Mr. Sharp?"

The veteran balloonist took a careful look over the craft before replying. Then he spoke:

"It couldn't be that," and he shook his head, as if puzzled. "They would know no foreign airship would try any trick like that. Beside, if by some remote possibility they did imagine it, there would be soldiers shooting at us, instead of the police. As it was, the whole population seemed anxious to bring us down."

"And they nearly did," added Mr. Damon. "If they had shot a few holes in the gas bag where would we be?"

"Right in the air," answered the balloonist. "It would take several volleys of bullets to damage our aluminum container. It is in sections and when one, or even five compartments, for that matter, are pierced, there is enough gas in the others to sustain us. So they could not have damaged us much, even if they had shot a lot of holes in us. Even without the gas container we can keep afloat by constantly moving, for the planes will serve their purpose. Of course they could damage us, and maybe put some of our machinery out of business, and that would be a serious thing. But what puzzles me is why they fired at us at all."

"It couldn't be out of pure mischief; could it?" asked the young inventor.

"Hardly. If we were in a savage country I could understand the natives firing at some such object as this airship, but the people of that city must have known what our craft was. They probably have read something about it in the news papers, and to deliberately fire on us, with the chance of disabling us, seems worse than barbarous."

"Well, we won't give 'em another opportunity," commented Mr. Damon.

"No, indeed, not this city, but who knows but what the example may spread? We may be fired at the next town we sail over."

"Then steer clear of the towns," advised Tom.

"Impossible. We must pass over some, but I'd like to solve this mystery."

( The day passed without further incident, though they did not go low enough down over any city to drop any messages. It was decided that it would not be safe. )

(Tom Swift #3) Chapter 17: "Wanted For Robbery!"

Chapter 17: "Wanted For Robbery!"

Choking and gasping for breath, feeling as if they could not stand the intense heat more than a moment longer, the young inventor and his companions looked at each other. Death seemed ready to reach out and grasp them. The mass of heated air was so powerful that it swung and tossed the Red Cloud about as if it were a wisp of paper.

"We must do something!" cried Mr. Damon, beginning to take off his collar and vest. "I'm choking!"

"Lie down in the bottom of the car," suggested Mr. Sharp. "The smoke won't trouble you so much there."

The eccentric man, too startled, now, to use any of his "blessing" expressions, did so.

"Can't you start the motor?" asked Tom frantically, as he stuck to his post, with his hand on the steering wheel, the elevation lever jammed back as far as it would go.

"I've done my best," answered the balloonist, gasping as he swallowed some smoke. "I'm afraid—afraid it's all up with us. We should have steered clear of this from the first. My, how it roars!"

The crackling and snapping of the flames below them, as they fed on the dry wood, which no rain had wet for weeks, was like the rush of some great cataract. Up swirled the dark smoke-clouds, growing hotter and hotter all the while as the craft came nearer and nearer to the center of the conflagration.

"We must rise higher!" cried Tom. "It's our only chance. Turn on the gas machine full power, and fill the container. That will carry us up!"

"Yes, it's our only hope," muttered Mr. Sharp. "We must go up, but the trouble is the gas doesn't generate so fast when there's too much heat. We're bound to have to stay over this fiery pit for some time yet."

"We're going up a little!" spoke Tom hopefully, as he glanced at a gauge near him. "We're fifteen hundred feet now, and we were only twelve a while ago."

"Good! Keep the elevation rudder as it is, and I'll see what I can do with the gas," advised the balloonist. "It's our only hope," and he hurried into the engine room, which, like the other parts of the cabin, was now murky with choking vapor and soot.

Suddenly the elevation gauge showed that they were falling. The airship was going down.

"What's the matter?" called Mr. Damon, from the cabin floor.

"I don't know," answered Tom, "unless the rudder has broken."

He peered through the haze. No, the big elevation rudder was still in place, but it seemed to have no effect on the shim.

"It's a down draught!" cried Mr. Sharp. "We're being sucked down. It won't last but a few seconds. I've been in 'em before."

( He seemed to have guessed rightly, for, the next instant the airship was shooting upward again, and relief came to the aeronauts, though it was not much, for the heat was almost unbearable, and they had taken off nearly all their clothing. )