Tom Swift and His Sky Racer | Page 3

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TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER or The Quickest Flight on
Record
By VICTOR APPLETON

CONTENTS I The Prize Offer II Mr. Swift Is Ill III The Plans
Disappear IV Anxious Days V Building the Sky Racer VI Andy Foger
Will Contest VII Seeking a Clue VIII The Empty Shed IX A Trial
Flight X A Midnight Intruder XI Tom Is Hurt XII Miss Nestor Calls
XIII A Clash with Andy XIV The Great Test XV A Noise in the Night
XVI A Mysterious Fire XVII Mr. Swift Is Worse XVIII The Broken
Bridge XIX A Nervy Specialist XX Just in Time XXI "Will He Live?"

XXII Off to the Meet XXIII The Great Race XXIV Won by a Length
XXV Home Again--Conclusion
TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER
Chapter One
The Prize Offer
"Is this Tom Swift, the inventor of several airships?"
The man who had rung the bell glanced at the youth who answered his
summons.
"Yes, I'm Tom Swift," was the reply. "Did you wish to see me?"
"I do. I'm Mr. James Gunmore, secretary of the Eagle Park Aviation
Association. I had some correspondence with you about a prize contest
we are going to hold. I believe--"
"Oh, yes, I remember now," and the young inventor smiled pleasantly
as he opened wider the door of his home. "Won't you come in? My
father will be glad to see you. He is as much interested in airships as I
am." And Tom led the way to the library, where the secretary of the
aviation society was soon seated in a big, comfortable leather chair.
"I thought we could do better, and perhaps come to some decision more
quickly, if I came to see you, than if we corresponded," went on Mr.
Gunmore. "I hope I haven't disturbed you at any of your inventions,"
and the secretary smiled at the youth.
"No. I'm through for to-day," replied Tom. "I'm glad to see you. I
thought at first it was my chum, Ned Newton. He generally runs over in
the evening."
"Our society, as I wrote you, Mr. Swift, is planning to hold a very large
and important aviation meet at Eagle Park, which is a suburb of
Westville, New York State. We expect to have all the prominent

'bird-men' there, to compete for prizes, and your name was mentioned. I
wrote to you, as you doubtless recall, asking if you did not care to
enter."
"And I think I wrote you that my big aeroplane-dirigible, the Red
Cloud, was destroyed in Alaska, during a recent trip we made to the
caves of ice there, after gold," replied Tom.
"Yes, you did," admitted Mr. Gunmore, "and while our committee was
very sorry to hear that, we hoped you might have some other air craft
that you could enter at our meet. We want to make it as complete as
possible, and we all feel that it would not be so unless we had a Swift
aeroplane there."
"It's very kind of you to say so," remarked Tom, "but since my big craft
was destroyed I really have nothing I could enter."
"Haven't you an aeroplane of any kind? I made this trip especially to
get you to enter. Haven't you anything in which you could compete for
the prizes? There are several to be offered, some for distance flights,
some for altitude, and the largest, ten thousand dollars, for the speediest
craft. Ten thousand dollars is the grand prize, to be awarded for the
quickest flight on record."
"I surely would like to try for that," said Tim, "but the only craft I have
is a small monoplane, the Butterfly, I call it, and while it is very speedy,
there have been such advances