Chapter 19 Tom Swift and His Sky Train by Victor Appleton
FAILURE
Daniel came into the private office quietly, as he always did, and with no very cheerful look on his face. This last was also, as Ned remarked, “according to form.” Tom’s new assistant was anything but a friendly chap.
“For the matter of that, though,” mused Tom as he looked at him, “I guess none of us would be very cheerful if we had a boy who was going blind. Poor chap! I feel sorry for him, and the boy.”
“You sent for me, Mr. Swift?” asked Daniel. Usually he was most deferential in his manner. Now he seemed to show some resentment, as if his mind held the hint of revolt.
“Yes,” Tom answered. “Won’t you sit down?”
Daniel slumped into a chair and faced first Tom and then Ned.
“I want to talk to you about your boy,” proceeded Tom. “I have already stated how terribly sorry I am for the little accident he was in where my car was concerned. I can hardly think it was my fault. But that is beside the question. I sent for you on another matter.”
“Here it comes!” mused Ned. “Tom’s going to accuse him of treachery and there’ll be some fireworks!”
But Tom’s manner was far from dramatic as he asked:
“How is Davy?”
“As well as can be expected,” was the sullen answer.
“I hope he isn’t suffering from his collision with my car!” the young inventor quickly exclaimed.
“No. It—it’s his eyes!” The words were blurted out, as if they hurt.
“That’s just what I sent for you—to have a talk about,” said Tom, with as much cheerfulness as he could infuse into his voice. Ned was surprised, though he had had a previous hint of Tom’s intentions in this mater. “Daniel,” Tom went on, “my wife and I wish to do something for your boy. I understand, from the surgeon at the hospital where I took him after the little accident, that Davy is suffering from a progressive form of eye trouble. Taken in time, as it can be now, and an operation performed, your boy’s eyes may be saved. If you wait much longer, it may be too late. Now I know operations cost money, so my wife and I want you to let us finance the cost of Davy’s operation. Will you do that, Daniel?”
Tom waited for the answer with a kind smile on his face. But the smile faded when Daniel, fairly jumping from his chair, exclaimed:
“No, Mr. Swift, I won’t permit anything of the kind! Not at all! Stop! You needn’t say any more!” he cried as he saw that Tom was going to protest. “I’ll take from you my salary that I earn and not a cent more! That’s all! I don’t want to hear of this again!”
With every appearance of anger, or some other strong emotion on his face, Daniel fairly rushed from the room, leaving behind him two very much astonished young men. Tom glanced at Ned and murmured:
“Can you understand that?”
“Not in the least,” Ned answered. “Of all the ungrateful chaps——”
“Never mind,” spoke Tom, quickly, interrupting Ned by a raised hand. “Maybe there is something we don’t understand. He may object to having his son’s affliction spoken of thus openly. Daniel is a queer fellow. Did I tell you how he acted when Mary and I brought the boy from the hospital?”
“No, I think not.”
“Well, it was very queer,” and Tom proceeded to detail the circumstances. “Then Daniel made use of some strange words. He practically accused me of injuring him in some other way than through his son.”
“What did he mean?”
“That’s what I’d like to find out. And now, on top of that, comes his refusal to let me help his boy’s eyes. I can’t understand him at all. But say nothing of this outside, Ned. Let it blow over. Maybe, later, I can take the matter up with Daniel again. Mary will be disappointed as she is eager to help this little fellow’s mother. It was pitiful to see them both crying, Ned, when we gave them back the little chap. And I think their tears were caused more by the realization of Davy’s coming blindness than by the small hurts he got by bumping into my car.”
“But if the lad will go blind,” asked Ned, “isn’t there some way Daniel can be compelled to let you help him?”
“I don’t know of any law, Ned, that will compel a man to accept money, even for such a thing as this,” spoke Tom with an odd smile. “But I’m not going to give up. Now let’s get to work!”
There was plenty of work in the Swift plant just then. Though the towing and releasing mechanism of the sky train was practically perfected, as shown by several tests after the Lake Carlopa accident, there yet remained the perfecting of the attachment of gliders to the train, while it was moving through the air.
“And that’s what we’re going to do today, Ned,” remarked Tom after Daniel had left the office. “This is the last lap in my race toward success in this particular venture.”
“I hope you don’t fall down, Tom.”
“Thanks. I don’t expect to.”
If Tom hoped that everything was going to be smooth sailing, so to speak, when the first tests were made of hitching one of the new, big gliders to his train, he was disappointed, though not discouraged. The Eagle went aloft, carrying two of the new “cars” filled with shop employees as passengers. On the ground below, attached to a small but speedy plane, was another glider of the perfected type, also filled. It was planned to drop off the tail glider of the sky train, and, as that drifted down to earth, the small airplane would start soaring up, pulling after it the other glider.
“And if everything goes well, Ned,” spoke the young inventor, “you will see something!”
“Well, I’ll be looking, old man!”
Tom and Ned were in the cabin of the Eagle. Word was given to go up, and the big craft hummed toward the sky, pulling the two loaded gliders with it. Tom, who was at the magnetic coupler control, waited until a good speed was attained. Then he telephoned to the pilot of the rear glider:
“Stand by to cut off!”
“Right!” was the answer. The two switches were tripped together, and the cut-off “car” went down to a perfect landing.
“So far so good!” murmured Tom. “Now for the real test!”
The descent of the sky train glider was the signal for the plane on the ground to start upward with its glider in tow. Getting off to a fine start in the wind, the small plane rapidly gained height and speed until it was flying after the Eagle which now had but one glider in its “tail.”
“The idea,” Tom explained to Ned, “is for the lifting plane to come after us, and a little above, regulating her speed until she is flying evenly with us, keeping her glider on a level with our rear one. Then she gradually goes a bit faster until the nose of the raised glider couples to the tail of the other glider. As soon as contact is made the plane cuts loose, zooms up and goes back to the ground.”
“It sounds fine in theory,” Ned stated. “And now to see if it will work in practice.”
The oncoming plane, with its glider, was powerful and speedy. In a short time it was directly above the Eagle.
“Watch everything carefully!” Tom telephoned to the pilots in the Eagle motor room. And to the pilot of the lifting plane he communicated by wireless telephone, saying: “Careful now! Speed up, drop down a little and nose the glider into the coupling. But go easy!”
“Right!” was the reply.
The critical moment had come. As has been explained, the lifting plane towed up the glider by an attachment on top of the “car,” as the plane would have to be above, and out of the way, when the actual coupling took place.
The pilots were maneuvering carefully. Tom and Ned watched anxiously as did those in the sky train and in the glider to be attached. They were all as eager for success as was Tom Swift himself.
There was a slight jar and tremor of the Eagle.
“Contact!” cried Tom, exultingly.
“Is she coupled?” asked Ned, in delight.
“She sure is!” cried Tom. But a moment later he cried in disappointed tones, “No she isn’t either! There they go up! Something must have gone wrong!”
He sprang to the wireless telephone and began talking to the pilot of the lifting plane.
“What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Swift. I got the nose of my glider to the tail of the other glider, but the coupling either broke after contact or pulled loose.”
“Well, try again!”
“Right!”
Once more, after minutes of nervous waiting, the skillful pilots had the two units in position. Again came the bump which told that the second glider had touched. But once more the coupling did not take place, and the lifting plane had to rise up with the glider still in tow. It was arranged that the lifting plane would not cast off the glider she brought up until it was securely attached to the sky train.
“Hum! This isn’t so good!” remarked Tom. “I wonder what can be the matter?”
“Maybe the third trial will be better,” suggested Ned.
“I hope so,” his chum murmured. “Give it another go!” Tom called to the pilot of the lifting plane. “And try a little more speed. It may be you don’t make the contact hard enough.”
“All right, Mr. Swift, I’ll come up faster.”
“But don’t ram us too hard!” Tom cautioned.
The next bump of the glider at the rear was considerably more forceful than either of the others. But again, after a momentary wait, Tom and Ned again saw the lifting plane soaring up with the glider still attached.
“No use trying any more this trip,” said Tom, disappointedly. “We might have an accident. There must be something wrong with the coupler arrangement. We’ll go down and go all over it again.”
He gave the necessary orders and soon the Eagle was once more grounded, together with the lifting plane and the gliders.
It was characteristic of Tom Swift that he found what the trouble was. He went over the couplers inch by inch, and it was after hours of intensive work, that the young inventor triumphantly exclaimed:
“I have it! The nose coupling isn’t long enough! It doesn’t seat properly when the nose comes in contact with the coupling on the tail of the other glider. Hurray! I’ve got it now. I used the same size front coupler for the big gliders as I did for the small, experimental ones. I see my mistake now. All I’ve got to do is to increase the coupler length. Then it will be all right!”
Suddenly the telephone rang.
“Yes!” Ned answered. “What is it?” And then, as he listened his face lighted as he exclaimed: “Great news, Tom! Oh, boy, if you can only win it!”