Tom Swift and His Aerial Warship | Page 5

Ned proceeded. "It was
pretty heavily loaded, for the crows had been having fun in our
cornfield, and dad had been shooting at them. This time I thought I'd
take a chance.
"Well, I fired the gun. But it must have had a double charge in it and
been rusted at that. All I know is that after I pulled the trigger I thought
the end of the world had come. I heard a clap of thunder, and then I
went flying over backward into a blackberry patch."
"That was the recoil," said Tom.
"The what?" asked Ned.
"The recoil. The recoil of the gun knocked you over.
"Oh, yes," observed Ned, rubbing his shoulder in a reflective sort of
way. "I always thought it was something like that. But, at the time I put
it down to an explosion, and let it go at that."

"No, it wasn't an explosion, properly speaking," said Tom. "You see,
when powder explodes, in a gun, or otherwise, its force is exerted in all
directions, up, down and every way.
"This went mostly backward--in my direction," said Ned ruefully.
"You only thought so," returned Tom. "Most of the power went out in
front, to force out the shot. Part of it, of course, was exerted on the
barrel of the gun--that was sideways--but the strength of the steel held
it in. And part of the force went backward against your shoulder. That
part was the recoil, and it is the recoil of the guns I figure on putting
aboard my aerial warship that is giving me such trouble."
"Is that what makes you look so blue?" asked Ned.
"That's it. I can't seem to find a way by which to take up the recoil, and
the force of it, from all the guns I want to carry, will just about tear my
ship to pieces, I figure."
"Then you haven't actually tried it out yet?" asked Ned.
"Not the guns, no. I have the warship of the air nearly done, but I've
worked out on paper the problem of the guns far enough so that I know
I'm up against it. It can't be done, and an aerial warship without guns
wouldn't be worth much, I'm afraid."
"I suppose not," agreed Ned. "And is it only the recoil that is bothering
you?"
"Mostly. But come, take a look at my latest pet," and Tom arose to lead
the way to another shed, a large one in the distance, toward which he
waved his hand to indicate to his chum that there was housed the
wonderful invention.
The two chums crossed the yard, threading their way through the
various buildings, until they stood in front of the structure to which
Tom had called attention.

"It's in here," he said. "I don't mind admitting that I'm quite proud of it,
Ned; that is, proud as far as I've gone. But the gun business sure has me
worried. I'm going to talk it off on you. Hello!" cried Tom suddenly, as
he put a key in the complicated lock on the door, "someone has been in
here. I wonder who it is?"
Ned was a little startled at the look on Tom s face and the sound of
alarm in his chum's voice.
CHAPTER II
A FIRE ALARM
Tom Swift quickly opened the door of the big shed. It was built to
house a dirigible balloon, or airship of some sort. Ned could easily tell
that from his knowledge of Tom's previous inventions.
"Something wrong?" asked the young bank clerk.
"I don't know," returned Tom, and then as he looked inside the place,
he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Oh, it's you, is it, Koku?" he asked, as a veritable giant of a man came
forward.
"Yes, master, it is only Koku and your father," spoke the big chap, with
rather a strange accent.
"Oh, is my father here?" asked Tom. "I was wondering who had opened
the door of this shed."
"Yes, Tom," responded the elder Swift, coming up to them, "I had a
new idea in regard to some of those side guy wires, and I wanted to try
it out. I brought Koku with me to use his strength on some of them."
"That's all right, Dad. Ned and I came out to wrestle with that recoil
problem again. I want to try some guns on the craft soon, but--"

"You'd better not, Tom," warned his father. "It will never work, I tell
you. You can't expect to take up quick-firing guns and bombs in an
airship, and have them work properly. Better give it up."
"I never will. I'll make it work, Dad!"
"I don't believe you will, Tom. This time you have bitten off more than
you can chew, to use a homely but