etting over the river, even if the railroad
bridge is down. Can't he cross in a boat and drive here?"

"He wouldn't be in time, Tom. Don't you understand, Dr. Hendrix must be
here within four hours, if he is to save your father's life. He never
could do it by driving or by coming on some other road, or in an auto.
He can't make the proper connections. There is no way."

"Yes, there is!" cried Tom, suddenly. "I know a way!"

"How?" asked Dr. Gladby, thrilled by Tom's ringing tones. "How can you
do it, Tom?"

"I'll go for Dr. Hendrix in my Humming-Bird."

"Going for him would do no good. He must be brought here."

"And so he shall be!" cried Tom. "I'll bring him here in my sky
racer--if he has the nerve to stand the journey, and I think he has!
I'll bring Dr. Hendrix here!" and Tom hurried away to prepare for the
thrilling trip.

Chapter Nineteen

A Nervy Specialist

There was little time to lose. Every moment of delay meant so much less
chance for the recovery of Mr. Swift. Even now the periods of
consciousness were becoming shorter and farther apart. He seemed to be
sinking.

Tom resolutely refused to think of the possibility of death, as he went
in to bid his parent good-by before starting off on his trip through
the air. Mr. Swift barely knew his son, and, with tears in his eyes,
though he bravely tried to keep them back, the young inventor went out
into the yard.

There stood the Humming-Bird, with Mr. Jackson, Mr. Damon and Eradicate
working over her, to get her in perfect trim for the race before her--a
race with death.

Fortunately there was little to be done to get the speedy craft ready.
Tom had accomplished most of what was necessary, while waiting for word
from Dr. Hendrix. Now about all that needed to be done was to see that
there was plenty of gasoline and oil in the reservoirs.

"I'll give you a note to Dr. Hendrix," said Mr. Gladby, as Tom was
fastening on his faceguard. "I--I trust you won't be disappointed, Tom.
I hope he will consent to return with you."

"He's got to come," said the young inventor, simply, as if that was all
there was to it.

"Do you think you can make the trip in time?" asked Mr. Damon. "It is a
little less than a hundred miles in an airline, but you have to go and
go back. Can the aeroplane do it?"

"I'd be ashamed of her if she couldn't," said Tom, with a grim
tightening of his lips. "She's just got to do it; that's all! But I
know she will," and he pat