Chapter 18 Tom Swift and His Airline Express by Victor Appleton
CHICAGO
Strange and mingled were the feelings Tom Swift had as his great experiment was started. There was exultation mingled with apprehension. Exultation that he had at last triumphed over many difficulties and the plots of his enemies and had reached the point of starting the service which might revolutionize travel. Apprehension lest he might fail, and also apprehension over this latest happening—the giving to him of this note.
It had a sinister appearance—this hasty message delivered in such a manner. It was in keeping with some other things that had happened of late.
But Tom’s chief concern now was to see that his new craft got safely into the air and on its way. He could deal later with those who sought to steal from him the fruits of his labor and his brain.
So, overcoming his natural curiosity to see what the note contained, Tom resolutely thrust it into his pocket and gave his whole attention to directing the management of the Falcon, which was the plane and accompanying car selected to hop off on the first leg of the transcontinental trip. The other planes were named, respectively, the Eagle and the Osprey.
This last name was chosen by Tom as fitting for the plane in which he hoped to ride when he sighted the Pacific coast and ocean. For the osprey is a fish-hawk, and Ned agreed with Tom that it was a most appropriate name for a craft in which they hoped to sight an ocean with its millions of fish.
Tom, together with Ned, Mr. Damon, and some assistants, rode in the hanging car, while in the cockpit of the aeroplane above them were Harry Meldrum and Bert Dodge, the two able mechanicians. Once he had seen for himself how the car behaved, Tom intended to take his shift in the cockpit, piloting the plane part of the time.
Tom had invited Mr. Jacks to make the first trip, but the eccentric millionaire, whose money had enabled the initial planes to be finished and who had promised to invest a hundred thousand dollars more in case Tom could successfully complete six round trips, had smiled as he shook his head.
“None of that for me!” he had answered. “Runaway horses are dangerous enough, without tempting fate in the shape of an aeroplane. I wouldn’t go up for a million dollars, Tom. But I wish you all success!”
And success is what Tom hoped for as the craft rose from the ground on this, its first official trip.
“Well, Tom, she’s moving!” exclaimed Ned, as they rose higher and higher on a long slant off the landing field and headed toward the west.
“Yes, we got off in good shape,” agreed Tom, as he noted various instruments and gages on the walls of the car which indicated their speed upward as well as forward and gave their height above the earth.
“It certainly is fine,” asserted Mr. Damon. “Bless my upper berth! it beats traveling in a Pullman. And if you can do as you say, Tom, and keep us in this car right through to the end of the journey in San Francisco, it will be a marvel. No change, nothing to worry about, and traveling as clean as in a bath tub! It’s great! Bless my toothbrush, it’s great!”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say there was nothing to worry about,” remarked Tom, with a laugh, as he signaled to the mechanician for more speed.
“What do you mean—that letter the kid gave you?” asked Ned, in a low voice.
“No, I haven’t looked at that yet. Probably it’s from some one who begged for a free ride,” Tom answered. “But I mean the race isn’t over until we have sighted the Golden Gate. We’ve got to be there before dark to make a success of this airline express, and we’ve got to travel pretty fast—averaging two hundred miles an hour for over fifteen hours. I hope we can do it, but I haven’t given up worrying lest we fail.”
“Oh, we’ll do it all right!” declared Mr. Damon.
“Sure!” added Ned, though, truth to tell, he could understand and appreciate Tom’s feelings, knowing, as he did, something of mechanics and the slight defect in a piece of machinery that might throw all calculations out.
The Falcon was now rapidly gaining height and speed, though, comfortably housed as they were in the car, the occupants felt no unpleasant sensations.
If one has ever ridden in an aeroplane he knows the swift, easy, gliding motion of the car. It is like nothing on earth, for there is absolutely no motion felt as in riding in an automobile or motor boat. There are none of the bumps of the roads, nor the swaying or rolling of water travel.
Of course there are “air pockets,” and when these are encountered even the best airship may take a sudden drop, which sensation is slightly felt. And if one exposes one’s face or hands or other part of the body to the rush of air, there is a most distinct sensation felt. But the cowl of the cockpit protects those in it from the terrific rush of wind, the pressure of which at two hundred and six miles an hour, is tremendous; and of course those housed in the car felt nothing.
So it was like making a journey in a dream, almost, and once the passengers were up above the earth there was nothing by which their progress could be gaged, as there is in a railroad train, when telegraph poles, fence posts, and the scenery seem to rush past at great speed.
So perfectly were the powerful motors running that in a short time the gages showed that the great speed of two hundred miles an hour had been attained. But Tom wanted to do better than this, especially on the first part of the journey, between Long Island and Chicago.
“The more time we make on the start the less we’ll have to worry about when we begin on the third lap—over the mountains,” he said to Ned. “I’ll go up into the cockpit myself soon. I just want to see that everything is all right here.”
This did not take long. A full complement of passengers was not carried on this initial trip, and there was more than room for all of them in the comfortable chairs. Koku had to be content with a bench, for no ordinary chair was large enough for him, and to his delight Eradicate was allowed to take charge of the small kitchen, where a buffet lunch would be served at noon, and other refreshments as needed.
“Ah eben gib dat giant suffin in case he git hungry,” chuckled Eradicate, who seemed to forget his jealous enmity against the big man in his delight at being near Tom and allowed to serve.
After making a round of the car and seeing that everything was well, Tom signaled up to Meldrum that he was going to take charge of the driving of the plane, asking Meldrum to come down below. There was an enclosed companionway, or ladder, by which the plane cockpit could be reached through the roof of the detachable car.
“Hadn’t you better look at that note before you go up?” suggested Ned, motioning to the pocket in which Tom had put the letter the boy had delivered to him at the last minute.
“That’s so—I almost forgot about it,” said the young inventor, with a laugh. “But it’s too late to answer it—we’re quite a way from the starting point.”
This was true. It had taken only a few minutes for them to soar over New York City, with its forest of tall buildings, then over the Hudson, across Jersey City, and so out on the long straight air line that led to Chicago.
Tom pulled out the crumpled missive and ripped open the envelope. As he read the few lines a look of anger came over his face.
“What is it?” asked Ned.
“Read it yourself,” Tom answered.
And Ned scanned these lines:
“Look out for yourself. You have started but you haven’t finished. Our time is coming.
“The Masked Two.”
“Well, of all the nerve!” cried Ned.
“Haven’t they!” said Tom. “But it will take more than threats to make me give up this project. I haven’t got my final patent papers, but I will when I finish these trial trips. I need to make only five more after this, and then Jacks will put in a lot of money. It was lack of ready money that was holding me back—once I have plenty of cash I can snap my fingers at those fellows!”
“Only five more trips,” murmured Ned. “And this one hasn’t finished its first third, Tom. But we’ll do it! The Masked Two can go jump in the lake.”
“You said it!” exclaimed Tom. “I’m not going to worry any more about it. Come on up in the plane with me.”
But though Tom declared that he was not going to worry over the matter, still he could not altogether dismiss it from his mind. He had left his aged father at home in charge of the works, and though there were faithful men around him and every safeguard that ingenuity could devise, still those sinister enemies might find some way of breaking through the cordon and damaging the plant or injuring Mr. Swift. So, in spite of his brave words, Tom worried.
“However, we’re in touch with them all the while by wireless,” Ned remarked, as Meldrum and Dodge descended when Tom had assumed charge of the controls, with Ned to help him. “You can always send and receive messages, and so you’ll know when anything happens.”
“Yes,” agreed the young inventor. “I almost forgot about that. I can keep in touch with home that way. I’ll wireless back soon, and see how everything is.”
This Tom did after he had speeded up the plane a little, once he found the motor was working well after warming up. They were now high in the air, hastening west.
Ned sent off the message through the ether waves. A powerful radio set had been installed, and Tom could talk directly to his father, which he was soon doing.
“We’re making fast time, Dad,” he told him. “How are things back there?”
“All right, Tom. You made a fine start. I only hope you keep it up.”
“We will. And look out for yourself. Our enemies haven’t given up.”
“I’ll be on the watch, Tom. Good-bye and good luck!”
For over four hours Tom and Ned, by turns, with occasional relief from Meldrum and Dodge, kept the motors running at top speed. And it was not quite mid morning by the clock when Ned, taking an observation, cried to his friend:
“There’s Chicago below us, Tom!”
“Good!” exulted Tom Swift. “We’ll finish the first leg a little ahead of time!”