Tom Swift and His Sky Racer | Page 9

doctor?"
"Oh, that is nothing. It is due to the fact that he has been using his brain
too much. The brain protests, and refuses to work until rested. Your
father has been working rather hard of late hasn't he?"

"Yes; on a new wireless motor."
"I thought so. Well, a good rest is what he needs, and then his mind and
body will be in tune again. I'll be around in the morning."
Tom was somewhat relieved by the doctor's words, but not very much
so, and he spent an anxious night, getting up every two hours to
administer the medicine. Toward morning Mr. Swift fell into a heavy
sleep, and did not awaken for some time.
"Oh, you're much better!" declared Dr. Gladby when he saw his patient
that day.
"Yes, I feel better," admitted Mr Swift.
"And can't you remember about Mr. Gunmore calling?" asked Tom.
The aged inventor shook his head, with a puzzled air.
"I can't remember it at all," he said. "The minister is the last person I
remember calling here."
Tom looked worried, but the physician said it was a common feature of
the disease from which Mr. Swift suffered, and would doubtless pass
away.
"And you don't remember how we talked about me building a speedy
aeroplane and trying for the ten-thousand-dollar prize?" asked Tom.
"I can't remember a thing about it," said the inventor, with a puzzled
shake of his head, "and I'm not going to try, at least not right away. But,
Tom, if you're going to build a new aeroplane, I want to help you. I'll
give you the benefit of my advice. I think my new form of motor can be
used in it."
"Now! now! No inventions--at least not just yet!" objected the
physician. "You must have a good rest first, Mr. Swift, and get strong.
Then you and Tom can build as many airships as you like."

Mr. Swift felt so much better about three days later that he wanted to
get right to work planning the airship that was to win the big prize, but
the doctor would not hear of it. Tom, however, began to make rough
sketches of what he had in mind changing them from time to time, He
also worked on a type of motor, very light, and modeled after one his
father had recently patented.
Then a new idea came to Tom in regard to the shape of his aeroplane,
and he worked several days drawing the plans for it. It was a new idea
in construction, and he believed it would give him the great speed he
desired.
"But I'd like dad to see it," he said. "As soon as he's well enough I'll go
over it with him."
That time came a week later, and with a complete set of the plans,
embodying his latest ideas, Tom went into the library where his father
was seated in an easy-chair. Dr. Gladby had said it would not now harm
the aged inventor to do a little work. Tom spread the drawings out in
front of his father, and began to explain them in detail.
"I really think you have something great there, Tom!" exclaimed Mr.
Swift, at length. "It is a very small monoplane, to be sure, but I think
with the new principle you have introduced it will work; but, if I were
you, I'd shape those wing tips a little differently."
"No, they're better that way," said Tom pleasantly, for he did not often
disagree with his father. "I'll show you from a little model I have made.
I'll get it right away."
Anxious to demonstrate that he was right in his theory, Tom hurried
from the library to get the model of which he had spoken. He left the
roll of plans lying on a small table near where his father was seated.
"There, you see, dad," said the young inventor as he re- entered the
library a few minutes later, "when you warp the wing tips in making a
spiral ascent it throws your tail wings out of plumb, and so--"

Tom paused in some amazement, for Mr. Swift was lying back in his
chair, with his eyes closed. The lad started in alarm, laid aside his
model, and sprang to his father's side.
"He's had another of those heart attacks!" gasped Tom. He was just
going to call Mrs. Baggert, when Mr. Swift opened his eyes. He looked
at Tom, and the lad could see that they were bright, and did not show
any signs of illness.
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed the inventor. "I must have dozed off, Tom,
while you were gone. That's what I did. I fell asleep!"
"Oh!" said Tom, much relieved. "I was afraid you were ill again. Now,
in this model, as