Tom Swift and His Airship | Page 5

Mr. Swift went into the house, followed by Mrs. Baggert, who was
loudly bewailing the fate of her bread. Tom and Mr. Sharp started
toward the shop where they had been working. It was one of several
buildings, built for experimental purposes and patent work by Mr.
Swift, near his home.
"It didn't do so very much damage," observed Tom, as he peered in
through a window, void of all the panes of glass. "We can start right
in."
"Hold on! Wait! Don't try it now!" exclaimed Mr. Sharp, who talked in
short, snappy sentences, which, however, said all he meant. "The fumes
of that gas aren't good to breathe. Wait, until they have blown away. It
won't be long. It's safer."
He began to cough, choking from the pungent odor, and Tom felt an
unpleasant tickling sensation in his throat.
"Take a walk around," advised Mr. Sharp. "I'll be looking over the blue
prints. Let's have 'em."
Tom handed over the roll he had grabbed up when he ran from the shop,
just before the explosion took place, and, while his companion spread
them out on his knee, as he sat on an upturned barrel, the lad walked
toward the rear of the large yard. It was enclosed by a high board fence,
with a locked gate, but Tom, undoing the fastenings, stepped out into a
broad, green meadow at the rear of his father's property. As he did so
he saw three boys running toward him.
"Hello!" exclaimed our hero. "There are Andy Foger, Sam Snedecker
and Pete Bailey. I wonder what they're heading this way for?"
On the trio came, increasing their pace as they caught sight of Tom.
Andy Foger, a red-haired and squint-eyed lad, a sort of town bully,
with a rich and indulgent father, was the first to reach the young

inventor.
"How-how many are killed?" panted Andy.
"Shall we go for doctors?" asked Sam.
"Can we see the place?" blurted out Pete, and he had to sit down on the
grass, he was so winded.
"Killed? Doctors?" repeated Tom, clearly much puzzled. "What are you
fellows driving at, anyhow?"
"Wasn't there a lot of people killed in the explosion we heard?"
demanded Andy, in eager tones.
"Not a one," replied Tom.
"There was an explosion!" exclaimed Pete. "We heard it, and you can't
fool us!"
"And we saw the smoke," added Snedecker.
"Yes, there was a small explosion," admitted Tom, with a smile, "but
no one was killed; or even hurt. We don't have such things happen in
our shops."
"Nobody killed?" repeated Andy questioningly, and the disappointment
was evident in his tones.
"Nobody hurt?" added Sam, his crony, and he, too, showed his chagrin.
"All our run for nothing," continued Pete, another crony, in disgust.
"What happened?" demanded the red-haired lad, as if he had a right to
know. "We were walking along the lake road, and we heard an awful
racket. If the police come out here, you'll have to tell what it was, Tom
Swift." He spoke defiantly.
"I've no objection to telling you or the police," replied Tom. "There was

an explosion. My friend, Mr. Sharp, the balloonist, and I were
conducting an experiment with a new kind of gas, and it was too strong,
that's all. An aluminum container blew up, but no particular damage
was done. I hope you're satisfied."
"Humph! What you making, anyhow?" demanded Andy, and again he
spoke as if he had a right to know.
"I don't know that it's any of your business," Tom came back at him
sharply, "but, as everyone will soon know, I may as well tell you. We're
building an airship."
"An airship?" exclaimed Sam and Pete in one breath.
"An airship?" queried Andy, and there was a sneer in his voice. "Well, I
don't think you can do it, Tom Swift! You'll never build an airship;
even if you have a balloonist to help you!"
"I won't, eh?" and Tom was a trifle nettled at the sneering manner of his
rival.
"No, you won't! It takes a smarter fellow than you are to build an
airship that will sail. I believe I could beat you at it myself."
"Oh, you think you could?" asked Tom, and this time he had mastered
his emotions. He was not going to let Andy Foger make him angry.
"Maybe you can beat me at racing, too?" he went on. "If you think so,
bring out your Red Streak and I'll try the Arrow against her. I beat you
twice, and I can do it again!"
This unexpected taunt disconcerted Andy. It was the truth, for, more
than once had Tom, in his motor-boat, proved more than a match for
the squint-eyed bully and his cronies.
"Go back at him, Andy," advised Sam, ire