Book: TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR SCOUT

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TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR SCOUT
OR
Uncle Sam's Mastery of the Sky




CONTENTS
CHAPTER

I A SKY RIDE
II A NEW IDEA
III THE BIG OFFER
IV MR. DAMON'S WHIZZER
V TOM'S PROJECT
VI MAKING PLANS
VII A PROBLEM IN SOUND
VIII THROUGH THE ROOF
IX AFTER A SPY
X A BIG SPLASH
XI A NIGHT TRIP
XII THE CRY FOR HELP
XIII SOMETHING QUEER
XIV THE TELEPHONE CALL
XV A VAIN SEARCH
XVI THE LONG NIGHT
XVII SILENT SAM
XVIII SUSPICIONS
XIX ANOTHER FLIGHT
XX QUEER MARKS
XXI THE DESERTED CABIN
XXII CLEWS AT LAST
XXIII THE GOVERNMENT TEST
XXIV IN THE MOONLIGHT
XXV THE GOLD TOOTH




TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR SCOUT




CHAPTER I
A SKY RIDE


"Oh Tom, is it really safe?"

A young lady--an exceedingly pretty young lady, she could be
called--stood with one small, gloved hand on the outstretched
wing of an aeroplane, and looked up at a young man, attired in a
leather, fur-lined suit, who sat in the cockpit of the machine
just above her.

"Safe, Mary?" repeated the pilot, as he reached in under the
hood of the craft to make sure about one of the controls. "Why,
you ought to know by this time that I wouldn't go up if it wasn't
safe!"

"Oh, yes, I know, Tom. It may be all right for you, but I've
never been up in this kind of airship before, and I want to know
if it's safe for me."

The young man leaned over the edge of the padded cockpit, and
clasped in his rather grimy hand the neatly gloved one of the
young lady. And though the glove was new, and fitted the hand
perfectly, there was no attempt to withdraw it. Instead, the
young lady seemed to be very glad indeed that her hand was in
such safe keeping.

"Mary!" exclaimed the young man, "if it wasn't safe--as safe as
a church--I wouldn't dream of taking you up!" and at the mention
of "church" Mary Nestor blushed just the least bit. Or perhaps it
was that the prospective excitement of the moment caused the
blood to surge into her cheeks. Have it as you will.

"Come, Mary! you're not going to back out the last minute, are
you?" asked Tom Swift. "Everything is all right. I've made a
trial flight, and you've seen me come down as safely as a bird.
You promised to go up with me. I won't go very high if you don't
like it, but my experience has been that, once you're off the
ground, it doesn't make any difference how high you go. you'll
find it very fascinating. So skip along to the house, and Mrs.
Baggert will help you get into your togs."

"Shall I have to wear all those things--such as you have on?"
asked Mary, blushing again.

"Well, you'll be more comfortable in a fur-lined leather suit,"
asserted Tom. "And if it does make you look like an Eskimo, why
I'm sure it will be very becoming. Not that you don't look nice
now," he hastened to assure Miss Nestor, "but an aviation suit
will be very--well, fetching, I should say."

"If I could be sure it would 'fetch' me back safe, Tom--"

"That'll do! That'll do!" laughed the young aviator. "One joke
like that is enough in a morning. It was pretty good, though. Now
go on in and tog up."

"You're sure it's safe, Tom?"

"Positive! Trot along now. I want to fix a wire and--"

"Oh, is anything broken?" and the girl, who had started away
from the aeroplane, turned back again.

"No, not broken. It's only a little auxiliary dingus I put on
to make it easier to read the barograph, but I think I'll go back
to the old system. Nothing to do with flying at all, except to
tell how high up one is."

"That's just what I don't care to know, Tom," said Mary Nestor,
with a smile. "If I could imagine I was sailing along only about
ten feet in the air I wouldn't mind so much."

"Flying at that height would be the worst sort of danger. You
leave it to me, Mary. I won't take you up above the clouds on
this sky ride; though, later, I'm sure you'll want to try that.
This is only a little flight. You've been promising long enough
to take a trip with me, and now I believe you're trying to back
out."

"No, really I'm not, Tom! Only, at the last minute, the machine
looks so small and frail, and the sky is so--big--"

She glanced up and seemed to shiver just a trifle.

"Don't be thinking of those things, Mary!" laughed Tom Swift.
"Trot along and get ready. The motor never worked better, and we
may break a few speed records this morning. No traffic cops to
stop us, either, as there might be if we were in an auto."

"There you go, Mary !" exclaimed Tom, as if struck with a new
thought. "You've ridden in an auto with me many a time, and you
never were a bit afraid, though we were in more danger than we'll
be this morning."

"Danger, Tom, in an auto? How?"

"Why, danger of a wheel collapsing as we were going full speed;
or the steering knuckle breaking and sending us into a tree;
danger of running into a stone wall or a ditch; danger of some
one running into us, or of us running into some one else. There
isn't one of these dangers on a sky ride."

"No," said Mary slowly. "But there's the danger of falling."

"One against twenty. That's the safety margin. And, if we do
fall, it will be like landing in a feather bed! There, don't wait
any longer. Go and get ready."

Mary sighed, and then, seeming to summon her nerve to her aid,
she smiled brightly, waved her hand to Tom, and hastened toward
his home, where Mrs. Baggert the matronly housekeeper, was
waiting to help the girl attire herself in a flying-suit of
leather.

Mary Nestor, who had a very warm place in the heart of Tom
Swift, had, as he stated, some time since promised to take a trip
in the air with the young inventor. But she had kept putting it
off, for one reason or another, until Tom began to despair of
ever getting her to accompany him. To-day, however, when she had
called to inquire about his father, who had been slightly ill,
Tom had, after the social visit, insisted on the promise being
kept.

He had his mechanic get out one of the safest, though a speedy,
double machine, and, with Mary to watch, Tom had taken a trial
flight, just to show her how easy it was. It was not the first
time she had seen him take to the air, but now she watched with
different emotions, for she was vitally interested.

Tom had sailed down from aloft, making a landing in the
aviation field he had constructed near his home, and then he had
insisted that Mary should keep her promise to take a sky ride
with him.

"Don't be too long now!" called Tom to the girl, as she hurried
toward the house. "Never mind about your hair, or whether your
hat's on straight. You're going to wear a cap, anyhow, and tuck
your hair up under that. It's hot down here, but it will be cold
up above; so tell Mrs. Baggert to see that you're warmly
dressed."

"All right," and gaily she waved her hand to him. Now that she
had made her decision, and was really going up, she was not half
so frightened as she had been in the contemplation of it.

As Tom climbed out of the machine, to give it a careful
inspection, though he was certain there was nothing wrong, an
aged colored man shuffled toward him.

"Yo'--yo'll be mighty careful ob Miss Nestor now, won't yo',
Massa Tom?" asked the man.

"Of course I will, Eradicate," was the young inventor's answer.

"Case we ain't got many laik her no mo', an' dat's de truf,
Massa Tom," went on the old man. "So be mighty careful laik!"

"That's what I will, Rad! And, while I'm up in the air, don't
you and Koku have any trouble."

"Ho! Trouble wif dat onery no-'count giant! I guess not!" and
the colored man limped off, highly indignant.

Satisfied, from an inspection of his machine, that it was as
nearly mechanically perfect as it was possible to be, Tom Swift
finished his trip around it and stood near the big propeller,
waiting for Mary Nestor to reappear. Presently she did so, and
Tom gaily waved his hand to her.

"You're a picture!" he cried, as he saw how particularly
"fetching" she looked in the aviator's costume which was like his
own. Because of the danger of entanglement, Miss Nestor had
doffed her skirts, and wore the costume of all aviators--men and
women.

"I wish I had my camera!" cried Tom. "You look--stunning!"

"I hope that isn't any comment on how I'm going to feel if we
have to make a--forced landing, I believe you call it," she
retorted.

"Oh, I'll take care of that!" exclaimed Tom. "Now up you go,
and we'll start," and he helped her to climb into the padded seat
of the cockpit, behind where he was to sit.

"Oh, Tom! Don't be in such a hurry !" expostulated Mary. "Let
me get my breath!"

"No!" laughed the young inventor. "If I did you might back out.
Get in, fasten the strap around you and sit still. That's all you
have to do. Don't be afraid, I'll be very careful. And don't try
to yell at me to go slower or lower once we're up in the air.

"Why not?" Mary wanted to know, as she settled herself in her
seat.

"Because I can't very well bear you, or talk to you. The motor
makes so much noise, you know. We can do a little talking through
this speaking tube," and he indicated one, "but it isn't very
satisfactory. So if you have anything to say--"

"In the language of the poets," interrupted Mary, "if I have
words to spill, prepare to spill them now. Well, I haven't! Now
I'm here, go ahead! I shall probably be too frightened to talk,
anyhow."

"Oh, no you won't--after the first little sensation," Tom
assured her. "You'll be crazy about it. Come on, Jackson!" he
called to the mechanician. "Start the ball rolling!"

Tom was in his place, his goggles and cap well down over his
face, and he was adjusting the switch as the mechanic prepared to
spin the propellers.

Suddenly a man came running from the Swift house, waving his
arms not unlike the blades of an aircraft propeller, he also
shouted, but Tom, whose ears were covered with his fur cap, could
not hear. However, Jackson did, and stopped whirling the blades,
turning about to see what was wanted.

"Why, it's Mr. Damon!" exclaimed Tom, as he caught sight of the
excited man. "Hello, what's the matter?" the youth asked, pulling
aside one flap of his head-covering so he might hear the answer.

"Tom! Wait a minute! Bless my mouse trap!" exclaimed Mr. Damon,
"I want to speak to you!" He was panting from his run across the
field. "I just got to your house--saw your father--he said you
were going up with Miss Nestor, but--bless my dog biscuit--"

"Can't stop now, Mr. Damon!" answered Tom, with a laugh. "I
have only just succeeded, by hard work, in getting Mary to a
point where she has consented to take a sky ride. If I stop now
she'll back out and I'll never get her in again. See you when I
come back," and Tom pulled the covering over his ear once more.

"But, Tom, bless my shoe laces! This is important!"

"So's this!" answered Tom, with a grin. He saw, by the motion
of Mr. Damon's lips, what the latter had said.

Around swung the propeller blades. The gasoline vapor in the
cylinders was being compressed.

"Contact!" called Tom sharply, as he pressed the switch to give
the igniting spark at the proper moment. The mechanic had stepped
back out of the way, in case there should be a premature starting
of the powerful engine, in which event the blades would have cut
him to pieces.

"Wait, Tom! Wait! This is very important! Bless my collar
button, Tom Swift, but this is--"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

With a series of explosions, like those of a machine gun, the
motor started, and further talk was out of the question. Tom
turned on more gas. The propellers became almost invisible blades
of light and shadow, and the aeroplane began moving over the
grassy field. The mechanic had sprung out of the way, pulling Mr.
Damon with him.

"Come back! Come back! Wait a minute, Tom Swift! Bless my pansy
blossoms, I want to tell you something!" cried the little man.

But Tom Swift was away and out of hearing. He had started on
his sky ride with Mary Nestor.



CHAPTER II
A NEW IDEA


Any one who has taken a flight in an aeroplane or gone up in a
balloon, will know exactly how Mary Nestor felt on this, her
first sky ride of any distance. For a moment, as she looked over
the side of the machine, she had a distinct impression, not that
she was going up, but that some one had pulled the earth down
from beneath her and, at the same time, given her a shove off
into space. Such is the first sensation of going aloft. Then the
rush of air all about her, the slightly swaying motion of the
craft, and the vibration caused by the motor took her attention.
But the sensation of the earth dropping away from beneath her
remained with Mary for some time.

This sensation is much greater in a balloon than in an
aeroplane, for a balloon, unless there is a strong wind blowing,
goes straight up, while an aeroplane ascends on a long slant, and
always into the teeth of the wind, to take advantage of its
lifting power on the underside of the planes. The reason for this
sensation--that of the earth's dropping down, instead of one's
feeling, what really happens, that one is ascending--is because
there are no objects by which comparison can be made. If one
starts off on the earth's surface at slow, or at great speed, one
passes stationary objects--houses, posts, trees, and the like--
and judges the speed by the rapidity with which these are left
behind.

Going up is unlike this. There is nothing to pass. One simply
cleaves the air, and only as it rushes past can one be sure of
movement. And as the air is void of color and form, there is no
sensation of passing anything.

So Mary Nestor, as she shot into the air with Tom Swift, had a
sensation as though the earth were dropping from beneath her. For
a moment she felt as though she were in some vast void--floating
in space--and she had a great fear. Then she calmed herself. She
looked at Tom sitting in front of her. Of course, all she could
see was his back, but it looked to be a very sturdy back, indeed,
and he sat there in the aircraft as calmly as though in a chair
on the ground. Then Mary took courage, and ceased to grasp the
sides of the cockpit with a grip that stiffened all her muscles.
She was beginning to "find herself."

On and on, and up and up, went Mary and Tom, in this the girl's
first big sky ride. The earth below seemed farther and farther
away. The wide, green fields became little emerald squares, and
the houses like those in a toy Noah's ark.

Down below, Mr. Wakefield Damon, who had hurried over from his
home in Waterfield to see Tom Swift, gazed aloft at the fast
disappearing aeroplane and its passengers.

"Bless my coal bin!" cried the eccentric man, "but Tom is in a
hurry this morning. Too bad he couldn't have stopped and spoken
to me. It might have been greatly to his advantage. But I suppose
I shall have to wait."

"You want to see Master?" asked a voice behind Mr. Damon, and,
turning, he beheld a veritable giant.

"Yes, Koku, I did," Mr. Damon answered, and he did not appear
at all surprised at the sight of the towering form beside him. "I
wanted to see Tom most particularly. But I shall have to wait.
I'll go in and talk to Mr. Swift."

"Yaas, an' I go talk to Radicate," said the giant. "Him diggin'
up ground where Master told me to make garden. Radicate not
strong enough for dat!"

"Huh! there's trouble as soon as those two get to disputing,"
mused Mr. Damon, as he went toward the house.

Meanwhile, Mary was beginning to enjoy herself. The sensation
of moving rapidly through the air in a machine as skillfully
guided as was the one piloted by Tom Swift was delightful. Up and
up they went, and then suddenly Mary felt a lurch, and the plane,
which was now about a thousand feet high, seemed to slip to one
side.

Mary screamed, and began reaching for the buckle of the safety
belt that fastened her to her seat. She saw that something
unusual had occurred, for Tom was working frantically at the
mechanism in front of him.

But, in spite of this, he seemed aware that Mary was in danger,
not so much, perhaps, from what might happen to the machine, as
what she might do in her terror.

"Oh! Oh!" cried the girl, and Tom heard her above the terrific
noise of the motor, for she was speaking with her lips close to
the tube that served as a sort of inter-communicating telephone
for the craft. "Oh, we are falling! I'm going to jump!"

"Sit still! Sit still for your life!" cried Tom Swift. "I'll
save you all right! Only sit still! Don't jump!"

Mary, her red cheeks white, sank back, and the young inventor
redoubled his efforts at the controls and other mechanisms.

And that Tom was perfectly qualified to make a safe landing,
even with engine trouble, Mary Nestor well knew. Those of you who
have read the previous books of this series know it also, but,
for the benefit of my new readers, I shall state that this was by
no means Tom's first ride in an aeroplane.

He had operated and built gasoline engines ever since he was
about sixteen years old. As related in the initial volume of this
series, entitled, "Tom Swift and His Motorcycle," he became
possessed of this machine after it had started to climb a tree
with Mr. Damon on board. After that experience the eccentric man
--blessing everything he could think of--had no liking for the
speedy motorcycle and sold it to Tom at a low price.

That was the beginning of a friendship between the two, and
also started Tom on his career as an inventor and a possessor of
many gasoline craft. For he was not content with merely riding
the repaired motorcycle. He made improvements on it.

Tom lived with his father in the town of Shopton, their home
being looked after, since the death of Mrs. Swift, by Mrs.
Baggert. Mr. Wakefield Damon lived in the neighboring town of
Waterfield, and spent much time at Tom's home, often going on
trips with him in various vehicles of the land, sea or air.

As related in the various volumes of this series, Tom was not
content to remain on earth. He built a speedy motor boat, and
then secured an airship, following that with a submarine. He also
made an electric runabout that was the speediest car on the road.
Sending wireless messages, having thrilling experiences among the
diamond makers, journeying to the caves of ice, and making
perilous trips in his sky racer took up part of the young
inventor's time.

With his electric rifle he did some wonderful shooting, and in
the "City of Gold" made some strange discoveries, part of the
fortune he secured enabling him to build his sky racer. It was in
a land of giants that Tom was made captive, but he succeeded in
escaping, and brought two giants, of whom Koku was one, away
with him.

Following this achievement Tom invented a wizard camera and a
great searchlight, which, with his giant cannon, was purchased by
the United States Government. Work on his photo-telephone and his
aerial warship, the problem of digging a big tunnel, and then
traveling to the land of wonders, kept Tom Swift very busy, and
he had just completed a wonderful piece of work when the present
story opens.

This last achievement was the perfecting of a machine to aid in
the great World War and you will find the details set down in the
volume which immediately precedes this. "Tom Swift and His War
Tank," it is called, and in that is related how he not only
invented a marvelous machine, but succeeded in keeping its secret
from the plotters who tried to take it from him. In this Tom was
helped by the inspiration of Mary Nestor, whom he hoped some day
to marry, and by Ned Newton, a chum, who, though no inventor
himself, could admire one.

Ned and Tom had been chums a long while, but Ned inclined more
to financial and office matters than to machinery. At times he
had managed affairs for Tom, and helped him finance projects. Ned
was now an important bank official, and since the United States
had entered the war had had charge of some Red Cross work, as
well as Liberty Bond campaigns.

Somehow, as she sat there in the craft which seemed disabled,
Mary Nestor could not help thinking of Tom's many activities, in
some of which she had shared.

"Oh, if he falls now, and is killed!" she thought. "Oh, what
will happen to us?"

"It's all right, Mary! Don't worry! It's all right!" cried Tom,
through the speaking tube.

"What's that? I can't hear you very well !" she called back.

"No wonder, with the racket this motor is making," he answered.
"Why can't something be done so you can talk in an aeroplane as
well as in a balloon? That's an idea! If I could tell you what
was the matter now you wouldn't be a bit frightened, for it isn't
anything. But, as it is--"

"What are you saying, Tom? I can't hear you!" cried Mary, still
much frightened.

"I say it's all right--don't get scared. And don't jump!" Tom
shouted until his ears buzzed. "It's all nonsense--having a motor
making so much noise one can't talk!" he went on, irritatedly.

A strange idea had come to the young inventor, but there was no
time to think of it now. Mentally he registered a vow to take up
this idea and work on it as soon as possible. But, just now, the
aeroplane needed all his attention.

As he had told Mary, there was really nothing approaching any
great danger. But it was rather an anxious moment. If Tom had
been alone he would have thought little of it, but with Mary
along he felt a double responsibility.

What had happened was that the craft had suddenly gone into an
"air pocket" or partial vacuum, and there had been a sudden fall
and a slide slip. In trying to stop this too quickly Tom had
broken one of his controls, and he was busily engaged in putting
an auxiliary one in place and trying to reassure Mary at the same
time.

"But it's mighty hard trying to do that through a speaking tube
with a motor making a noise like a boiler factory," mused the
young inventor. Tom worked quickly and to good purpose. In a few
moments, though to Mary they seemed like hours, the machine was
again gliding along on a level keel, and Tom breathed more
easily.

"And now for my great idea!" he told himself.

But it was some time before he could give his attention to
that.



CHAPTER III
THE BIG OFFER


Working with all the skill he possessed, Tom had got the
aeroplane in proper working order again. As has been said, the
accident was a trivial one, and had he been alone, or with an
experienced aviator, he would have thought little of it. Then,
very likely, he would have volplaned to earth and made the
repairs there. But he did not want to frighten Mary Nestor, so he
fixed the control while gliding along, and made light of it. Thus
his passenger was reassured.

"Are we all right?" asked Mary through the tube, as they sailed
along.

"Right as a fiddle," answered Tom, shouting through the same
means of communication.

"What's that about a riddle?" asked Mary, in surprise at his
seeming flippancy at such a time.

"I didn't say anything about a riddle--I said we are as fit as
a fiddle!" cried Tom. "Never mind. No use trying to talk with the
racket this motor makes, and it isn't the noisiest of its kind,
either. I'll tell you when we get down. Do you like it?"

"Yes, I like it better than I did at first," answered Mary, for
she had managed to understand the last of Tom's questions. Then
he sailed a little higher, circled about, and, a little later,
not to get Mary too tired and anxious, he headed for his landing
field.

"I'll take you home in the auto," he cried to his passenger.
"We could go up to your house this way--in style--if there was a
field near by large enough to land in. But there isn't. So it
will have to be a plain, every-day auto."

"That's good enough for me," said Mary. "Though this trip is
wonderful--glorious! I'll go again any time you ask me."

"Well, I'll ask you," said Tom. "And when I do maybe it won't
be so hard to hold a conversation. It will be more like this,"
and he shut off the motor and began to glide gently down. The
quiet succeeding the terrific noise of the motor exhaust was
almost startling, and Tom and Mary could converse easily without
using the tube.

Then followed the landing on the soft, springy turf, a little
glide over the ground, and the machine came to a halt, while
mechanics ran out of the hangar to take charge of it.

"I'll just go in and change these togs," said Mary, as she
alighted and looked at her leather costume.

"No, don't," advised Tom. "You look swell in em. Keep 'em on.
They're yours, and you'll need 'em when we go up again. Here
comes the auto. I'll take you right home in it. Keep the aviation
suit on.

"I wonder what Mr. Damon could have wanted," remarked Tom, as
he drove Mary along the country road.

"He seemed very much excited," she replied.

"Oh, he almost always is that way--blessing everything he can
think of. You know that. But this time it was different, I'll
admit. I hope nothing is the matter. I might have stopped and
spoken to him, but I was afraid if I did you'd back out and
wouldn't come for a sky ride."

"Well, I might have. But now that I've had one, even with an
accident thrown in, I'll go any time you ask me, Tom," and Mary
smiled at the young inventor.

"Shucks, that wasn't a real accident!" he laughed. "But I do
wonder what Mr. Damon wanted."

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