Mr. Damon. "I would enjoy your company."

"There's plenty of room. We can carry six persons with ease," said Mr.
Sharp.

Mr. Swift shook his head, and smiled.

"I have too much work to do here at home," he replied. "Perhaps I may
astonish you with something when you come back. I have nearly perfected
my latest invention."

There was no combating such a resolution as this, and Tom and the
others considered the decision of the aged inventor as final. The
airship was ready for the start, and every one had arisen earlier than
usual on this account. The bag of tools, for which Tom had gone to
town, were put in their proper place, the last of the supplies were
taken abroad, final tests were made of the various apparatus, the motor
had been given a trial spin, disconnected from the propellers, and then
the balloonist announced:

"Well, Tom and Mr. Damon, you had better begin to think of starting.
We've had breakfast here, but there's no telling where we will eat
dinner."

"Bless my soul! Don't you talk that way!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "You
make me exceedingly nervous. Why shouldn't we know where we are going
to eat dinner?"

"Oh, I meant we couldn't tell over just what part of the United States
we would be when dinner time came," explained the aeronaut.

"Oh, that's different. Bless my pocket knife, but I thought you meant
we might be dashed to pieces, and incapable of eating any dinner."

"Hardly," remarked Mr. Sharp. "The Red Cloud is not that kind of an
airship, I hope. But get aboard, if you please."

Tom and Mr. Damon entered the car. It was resting on the ground, on the
small wheels used to start the airship when the gas inflation method
was not used. In this case, however, it had been decided to rise in the
air by means of the powerful vapor, and not to use the wings and planes
until another time. Consequently the ship was swaying slightly, and
tugging at the restraining cables.

As Tom and Mr. Damon entered the cabin there drove into the Swift yard
a dilapidated wagon, drawn by a bony mule, and it did not need the
addition of a colored man's voice, calling: "Whoa, dar, Boomerang!" to
tell Tom that his friend Eradicate Sampson was on hand. As for
Eradicate, as soon as he saw the great airship, which he had never
before beheld fully rigged, all ready for a flight, his eyes became big
with wonder.

"Is dat yo' flyin' machine, Mistah Swift?" he asked.

"That's it, Rad," answered Tom. "Don't you want to com