looking for Mr. Damon. That's a bad crowd there," and he
pointed toward the other aircraft. "They have my Eagle. Can you
help me catch them?"

"I certainly can--and will! Get aboard! I can carry four."

"Then you have a new machine?"

"Yes, and a dandy! All the latest improvements--self-starter and
all! I'm glad of a chance to show it to you."

"And I'm glad, too!" cried Tom. "It was providential that you
happened along. What were you doing here?"

"Just out on a trial spin. But come on, if we're going to catch
those fellows!"

Quickly Tom, Ned, and Mr. Halling climbed into the seats of the
new airship. It was started from a switch, and in a few seconds it
was on the wing, chasing after the Eagle.

Then began a strange race, a race in the air after the unknown
strangers who had Tom's machine. Had the Eagle not been so heavily
laden it might have escaped, for Tom's craft was a speedy one. But
this time it had to give the palm to Mr. Grant Halling's. Faster
and faster in pursuit flew the Star, as the new craft was called.
Faster and faster, until at last, coming directly over the Eagle,
Mr. Halling sent his craft down in such a manner as to "blanket"
the other. In an instant she began to sink, and with cries of
alarm the men shut off the motor and started to volplane to the
earth.

But they made an unskillful landing. The Eagle tilted to one side,
and came down with a crash. There were cries of pain, then
silence, and a few seconds later two men ran away from the
disabled airship. But there were three senseless forms on the
ground beside the craft when Tom, Ned and Mr. Halling ran up. In
the fading light Tom saw a face he knew--three faces in fact.

"Mr. Damon!" he cried. "We've found him, Ned!"

"But--too late--maybe!" answered Ned, in a low voice, as he, too,
recognized the man who had been missing so long.

Mr. Halling was bending over the unconscious form of his friend.

"He's alive!" he cried, joyfully. "And not much hurt, either. But
he has been ill, and looks half starved. Who are these men?"

Tom gave a hasty look.

"Shallock Peters and Harrison Boylan!" he cried. "Ned, at last
we've caught the scoundrels!"

It was true. Chance had played into the hands of Tom Swift. While
Mr. Halling was looking after Mr. Damon, reviving him, the young
inventor and Ned quickly bound the hands and feet of the two
plotters with pieces of wire from the broken airship.

Presently Mr. Damon opened his eyes.

"