Chapter 9 Tom Swift and His Sky Train by Victor Appleton
HOT WORDS
“What do you think happened, Tom?”
These were the first words spoken between the two friends in some time, after the speedy electric car had left the Shopton plant. For several miles they had rushed along in silence.
“What do you mean, Ned? Happened where?”
Ned Newton pointed ahead toward the place where they were going—the scene of the glider crash. Then he added:
“I mean what do you think happened to cause the glider to fall? You didn’t cut it loose, neither did Lacter or Turtan, and there wasn’t any signal from Blanchard or Lee. Those are the only ones who could have done it.”
“You’re leaving out the possibility of an accident, Ned.”
“You mean the coupling might have broken?”
“Yes. Or——” Tom did not continue. His silence might have been caused by negotiating a turn in the road where the highway was narrow, and just then another car was passing. But, somehow, Ned Newton did not ascribe Tom’s silence to any of these causes. In support of this he asked:
“You mean the coupling might have been purposely broken, Tom?”
“It’s possible, yes, but I didn’t want to go so far as to say that, Ned.”
“But who would break it? Not that there was a certainty of causing any terrible damage by such an act—a cut off glider is supposed to reach the ground safely, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes, but if the couplings can’t be relied upon, what good is my sky train going to be? Passengers wouldn’t want to ride in a railroad car that might be dropped off the tail of the train at any place along the route. Not that there would be any particular danger in such a cut-off, but if a man gets in a car to go from New York to Chicago, on, say, the through train to San Francisco, he doesn’t want the car he is in to come loose at Podunk Centre.”
“No, I should say not.”
“And yet, if my coupling release can’t be relied upon, that’s about what may happen to my sky train.”
“But if some one deliberately released this glider today, Tom, who was it? Surely you don’t suspect Blanchard or Lee of doing such a trick to spoil your invention?”
“No, I trust those pilots absolutely.”
“Then it must have been the other man—Daniel, that new office-helper you took on, Tom! Why, if he did such a thing as this, I’d——”
“Go slow, Ned,” Tom advised with a smile as he let the car out at top speed, for now they were on a straight stretch with little traffic. “I haven’t said anything against Daniel. That man came well recommended and he has done good work. I value his services.”
“And yet,” proceeded Ned as his friend paused, “how do you account for one thing?”
“What’s that?”
“He went up with a parachute as if he knew something was going to happen, and was ready to jump when he had to—as he did.”
Ned’s voice was triumphant. He did not imagine Tom could refute this argument. But the young inventor said:
“Daniel isn’t a flying man. He has gone up before, or I shouldn’t have let him be a passenger in the glider this time. But anyone who has not had much flying experience might, naturally, take a parachute along when undertaking an experimental flight. There are plenty of ’chutes around the plant. My guess is that Daniel just naturally picked up one to have along in case of emergency. Just as you or I might take a life preserver along if some one invited us to ride in a new-fangled boat.”
Ned thought this over and said:
“Well, maybe you’re right. But, all the same, I’d watch Daniel if I were you.”
“Oh, I shall! I’m taking no chances,” said Tom. “And I wish this accident today hadn’t happened. I hope we find some of them alive, at any rate.”
“Daniel is sure to be alive. His ’chute opened, for we saw it,” commented Ned. “As for the others, I fancy Blanchard and Lee are good enough pilots to have made a safe landing.”
“Yes, I hope so. Well, we ought to be getting pretty near to the place now.”
As they swung off the main road, taking a course over a highway passing through a country district that would take them to the scene of the accident, they passed a country lad rattling his way toward them in an old car. Tom slowed up his speedy machine.
“Did you see anything of an airplane crashing down around here?” Tom asked the lad who slowed down when he saw that the occupants of the other machine wished to talk. Tom used the word “airplane” in preference to “glider” thinking that the latter might not be understood by the country lad.
“Well, I didn’t exactly see the jigger crash,” spoke the boy. “But I heard it. She come down not far from our place. And it was some smash, believe me, mister!”
“Hope it didn’t crash on your house,” remarked Ned, half joking.
“Not on our house,” the boy said. “But you ought to see what it did to Redstone Hall.”
“What’s Redstone Hall?” asked Tom. “A hotel?”
“No, it’s a big, swell country place out here. Been nobody in it for quite a while, but a city man fixed it up this spring, and he’s living there now. That airship, or whatever it was, fell right there, and it was some smash. Oh, boy!”
“Anybody killed?” asked Ned.
Tom did not wait for the answer. Fearing the worst, he sent his speedy car ahead, the lad in the old car indicating by a gesture and shouted directions that Redstone Hall was about a mile farther on.
Tom and Ned had no trouble in finding the place a little later, for they saw a throng of persons, some afoot, some in horse rigs and not a few in automobiles, hurrying toward a common centre. Tom’s car easily outdistanced them all and, a little later, was speeding through the lodge gate posts of an imposing country place, built of red sand stone, whence the name Redstone Hall.
The country estate had been imposing in the days of its prime, and was beautiful enough even now. It showed recent restoration and indicated that considerable money had been spent on it to bring back some of the former glories. A wide winding road, bordered by tall trees on each side, led toward the house itself. But before Tom and Ned reached the house, where they feared the glider might have landed on the roof, they saw that the craft had come down upon a less important building of the estate. Less important in their eyes, that is, though, as events transpired, not in the minds of some others.
“Golly, Tom, look!” exclaimed Ned, pointing. “She crashed through a big greenhouse.”
“That’s right!” Tom assented as he saw a gaping hole in the roof of an extensive house composed mostly of glass. “That’s bad! Those poor fellows must be cut all to pieces!”
The tail of the glider, up-ended, could be seen sticking out of the shattered greenhouse roof. But as Tom brought his car to a stop, not far from the place, and noted a crowd of persons about it, the feelings of himself and Ned were relieved as they saw the two pilots Blanchard and Lee limping toward them. The clothing of the men was in some disorder, and their faces and hands slightly cut, but they were alive and not badly hurt, as was evident—not hurt as much as many an aviator has been in a parachute leap.
“How are you?” asked Tom eagerly, pushing his way through the crowd to speak to his pilots. “Hurt?”
“Just a few scratches and bruises, Mr. Swift,” Lee answered with a laugh.
“Nothing to speak of,” added Blanchard. “But I guess that glider won’t be of much use to you. Sorry, but it wasn’t our fault. The controls froze and we couldn’t level her off in time to avoid the greenhouse.”
“She sure is a wreck,” stated Lee. “But we didn’t do a thing to that flower bed in there,” and he nodded back toward the shattered roof.
“As long as you boys are all right, that greenhouse doesn’t matter, nor the glider either,” said Tom with a sigh of relief. “Did you see anything of Daniel?”
Before either pilot could answer a burly, imposing, and self-important man pushed his way through the throng near the smashed building and exclaimed:
“Who says the wrecking of my greenhouse doesn’t matter?”
Then, catching sight of Tom Swift he added:
“Oh, it was one of your machines, was it, that broke a lot of my choice orchids and nearly frightened my wife to death? What’s the idea, Swift, of coming down on my place in this fashion?”
In surprise Tom and Ned gazed into the inflamed, flushed countenance of Lester Willam, the new president of the Shopton bank.
“Well?” inquired Mr. Willam, sarcastically, as neither Tom nor Ned answered. “Haven’t you anything to say?”
“I didn’t know you lived out here at Redstone Hall, Mr. Willam,” said Tom, at last.
“What has that got to do with wrecking my best greenhouse?” demanded the irate financier. “What explanation have you to make?”
“The explanation is very simple,” said Tom, as calmly as he could in response to these hot words. “It was an unavoidable accident.”
“Unavoidable?”
“Yes. One of the gliders, or cars, of my sky train, cut loose and came down. In spite of all the pilots could do to make a landing in a place where they would assure themselves of safety and do no property damage, they could not help coming down here.”
“Oh, so it was your sky train, was it?” Mr. Willam’s voice was sneering now.
“Yes,” replied Tom. “We were making an experimental flight around my proving grounds.”
“Well, I take it that the experiment was a poor success!” the banker went on with a cynical laugh. “And I’m more than glad I did not let you have any of our money to fritter away upon such dangerous foolishness. But you had no right to fly over my property.”
“The right of any property owner to the air above him has not yet been sustained in any court,” Tom said. “But I assure you that I did not fly my sky train over your property. Inadvertently we may have flown near the edge of it, and somewhat away from directly over my own grounds.”
“Then how did it happen that this glider, or a car of your sky train, as you call it, fell through my greenhouse?”
“The glider cut loose, or was cut loose without orders,” Tom stated. “And, as I explained, it got out of control. You don’t imagine any pilots in their senses would deliberately crash through a greenhouse roof, do you, Mr. Willam?”
“I don’t know what pilots, in their senses or out of them, might do, Swift!” was the snapped-out answer. “I only know the fact—my greenhouse is wrecked and thousands of dollars’ worth of valuable orchids are destroyed. My wife is suffering from a serious nervous shock, for she was just entering the greenhouse when your plane, glider or whatever it is crashed through the glass like a bombshell. You can’t get out of it so easily by just saying no pilots in their senses would have done a thing like that.”
“Believe me we wouldn’t!” put in Blanchard.
“I should say not!” echoed Lee. “When I saw what we were headed for, I gave up! I thought we’d be cut to mincemeat!”
“It’s a marvel that you weren’t!” said Tom. “I don’t see how you came out as well as you did.”
“Well, we sort of lay back and let the glider pancake down on top of the roof,” explained Lee. “We just sort of caved in on top of the glass, and as the panes were small they just sort of cracked up and didn’t splinter much. I guess that’s all that saved us.”
“You were mighty lucky,” murmured Ned.
“But the glider’s done for,” said Blanchard gloomily.
“And so is my greenhouse!” snapped Mr. Willam. “Where are you going, Swift?” he asked, sharply, as Tom started forward to investigate the place of the crash more closely.
“I was going in there,” said Tom.
“Keep out!” snapped the banker. “You’ve trespassed enough on my property! You can’t take that glider away until you make some provision for paying me in full for all damages—and it will be a pretty penny too, I can assure you. It’s time you airship fellows got over the idea that you own the earth. I’m going to have a stop put to foolhardy experimental flights over my property. Now you get off my place! I’ll hold this glider until you settle my bill for damages! Get out!”
Stamping his foot in anger, and indicating the exit with a wrath-trembling finger, Lester Willam advanced threateningly toward Tom.