Tom Swift and His Airship | Page 4

much to them.
The hissing grew louder.
"Be ready to jump," advised Mr. Sharp.
"I will," answered the lad. "But the pressure is going up very slowly.
Maybe you'd better turn on more gas."
"I will. Here she goes! Look out now. You can't tell what is going to
happen."
With a sudden hiss, as the powerful gas, under pressure, passed from
the tank, through the pipes, and into the aluminum container, the hand
on the gauge swept past figure after figure on the dial.
"Shut it off!" cried Tom quickly. "It's coming too fast! Shut her off!"
The man sprang to obey the command, and, with nervous fingers,
sought to fit the wrench over the nipple of the controlling valve. Then
his face seemed to turn white with fear.
"I can't move it!" Mr. Sharp yelled. "It's jammed! I can't shut off the
gas! Run! Look out! She'll explode!"
Tom Swift, the young inventor, whose acquaintance some of you have
previously made, gave one look at the gauge, and seeing that the
pressure was steadily mounting, endeavored to reach, and open, a stop-

cock, that he might relieve the strain. One trial showed him that the
valve there had jammed too, and catching up a roll of blue prints the
lad made a dash for the door of the shop. He was not a second behind
his companion, and hardly had they passed out of the structure before
there was a loud explosion which shook the building, and shattered all
the windows in it.
Pieces of wood, bits of metal, and a cloud of sawdust and shavings flew
out of the door after the man and the youth, and this was followed by a
cloud of yellowish smoke.
"Are you hurt, Tom?" cried Mr. Sharp, as he swung around to look
back at the place where the hazardous experiment had been conducted.
"Not a bit! How about you?"
"I'm all right. But it was touch and go! Good thing you had the gauge
on or we'd never have known when to run. Well, we've made another
failure of it," and the man spoke somewhat bitterly.
"Never mind, Mr. Sharp," went on Tom Swift. "I think it will be the
last mistake. I see what the trouble is now; and know how to remedy it.
Come on back, and we'll try it again; that is if the tank hasn't blown
up."
"No, I guess that's all right. It was the aluminum container that went up,
and that's so light it didn't do much damage. But we'd better wait until
some of those fumes escape. They're not healthy to breathe."
The cloud of yellowish smoke was slowly rolling away, and the man
and lad were approaching the shop, which, in spite of the explosion that
had taken place in it, was still intact, when an aged man, coming from a
handsome house not far off, called out, "Tom, is anyone hurt?"
"No, dad. We're all right."
"What happened?"

"Well, we had another explosion. We can't seem to get the right
mixture of the gas, but I think we've had the last of our bad luck. We're
going to try it again. Up to now the gas has been too strong, the tank
too weak, or else our valve control is bad."
"Oh dear, Mr. Swift! Do tell them to be careful!" a woman's voice
chimed in. "I'm sure something dreadful will happen! This is about the
tenth time something has blown up around here, and-"
"It's only the ninth, Mrs. Baggert," interrupted Tom, somewhat
indignantly.
"Well, goodness me! Isn't nine almost as bad as ten? There I was, just
putting my bread in the oven," went on Mrs. Baggert, the housekeeper,
"and I was so startled that I dropped it, and now the dough is all over
the kitchen floor. I never saw such a mess."
"I'm sorry," answered the youth, trying not to laugh. "We'll see that it
doesn't happen again."
"Yes; that's what you always say," rejoined the motherly-looking
woman, who looked after the interests of Mr. Swift's home.
"Well, we mean it this time," retorted the lad. "We see where our
mistake was; don't we. Mr. Sharp?"
"I think so," replied the other seriously.
"Come on back, and we'll see what damage was done," proposed Tom.
"Maybe we can rig up another container, mix some fresh gas, and make
the final experiment this afternoon."
"Now do be careful," cautioned Mr. Swift, the aged inventor, once
more. "I'm afraid you two have set too hard a task for yourselves this
time."
"No we haven't, dad," answered his son. "You'll see us yet skimming
along above the clouds."

"Humph! If you go above the clouds I shan't be very likely to see you.
But go slowly, now. Don't blow the place up again."