achinery, and Ned followed him with interest.

"Now we'll go down into the car or cabin," continued the young
navigator of the air, "and I'll show you what we do when we're touring
amid the clouds."

As they started to descend the flight of steps from the loft platform,
a noise on the ground below attracted their attention.

"Guess that's Mr. Sharp coming," said Ned.

Tom leaned over and looked down. An instant later he grasped the arm of
his chum, and motioned to him to keep silent.

"Take a look," whispered the young inventor.

"Andy Foger!" exclaimed Ned, peering over the railing.

"Yes, and Sam Snedecker and Pete Bailey are with him. They sneaked in
when I left the door open. Wonder what they want?"

"Up to some mischief, I'll wager," commented Ned. "Hark! They're
talking."

The two lads on the loft listened intently. Though the cronies on the
ground below them did not speak loudly, their voices came plainly to
the listeners.

"Let's poke a hole in their gas bag," proposed Sam. "That will make
them think they're not so smart as they pretend."

"Naw, we can't do that," answered Andy.

"Why not?" declared Pete.

"Because the bag's away up in the top part of the shed, and I'm not
going to climb up there."

"You're afraid," sneered Sam.

"I am not! I'll punch your face if you say that again! Besides the
thing that holds the gas is made of aluminum, and we can't make a hole
in it unless we take an axe, and that makes too much noise."

"We ought to play some sort of a trick on Tom Swift," proposed Pete.
"He's too fresh!"

Tom shook his fist at the lads on the ground, but of course they did
not see him.

"I have it!" came from Andy.

"What?" demanded his two cronies.

"We'll cut some of the guy wires from the planes and rudders. That will
make the airship collapse. They'll think the wires broke from the
strain. Take out your knives and saw away at the wires. Hurry, too, or
they may catch us."

"You're caught now," whispered Ned to Tom. "Come on down, and give 'em
a trouncing."

Tom hesitated. He looked quickly about the loft, and then a smile
replaced the frown of righteous anger on his face.

"I have a better way," he said.

"What is it?"

"See that pile of dirt?" and he pointed to some refuse that had been
swept up from the floor of the loft. Ned nodded. "It consists of a lot
of shavings, sawdust and, what's more, a lot of soot and lampblack that
we used in mixing some paint. We'll swee