in a whisper.

"Yes, dad," was the eager answer

"They tell me you--you made a great trip to get Dr. Hendrix--broken
bridge--came through the air with him. Is that right?"

"Yes, dad. But don't tire yourself. You must get well and strong."

"I will, Tom. But tell me; did you go in--in the Humming-Bird?"

"Yes, dad."

"How did she work?"

"Fine. Over a hundred, and the motor wasn't at its best."

"That's good. Then you can go in the big race, and win."

"No, I don't believe I'll go, dad."

"Why not?" Mr. Swift spoke more strongly.

"I--because--well, I don't want to."

"Nonsense, Tom! I know; it's on my account. I know it is. But listen to
me. I want you to go in! I want you to win that race! Never mind about
me. I'm going to get well, and I'll recover all the more quickly if you
win that race. Now promise me you'll go in it and--and--win!"

The invalid's strength was fast leaving him.

"I--I---," began Tom.

"Promise!" insisted the aged inventor, trying to rise. Dr. Hendrix made
a hasty move toward the bed.

"Promise!" whispered the surgeon to Tom.

"I--I promise!" exclaimed Tom, and the aged inventor sank back with a
smile of satisfaction on his pale face.

"Now you must go," said Dr. Gladby to Tom. "He has talked long enough.
He must sleep now, and get up his strength."

"Will he get better?" asked Tom, anxiously.

"We can't say for sure," was the answer. "We have great hopes."

"I don't want to enter the race unless I know he is going to live,"
went on Tom, as Dr. Gladby followed him out of the room.

"No one can say for a certainty that he will recover," spoke the
physician. "You will have to hope for the best, that is all, Tom. If I
were you I'd go in the race. It will occupy your mind, and if you could
send good news to your father it might help him in the fight for life
he is making."

"But suppose--suppose something happens while I am away?" suggested the
young inventor.

The doctor thought for a moment. Then he exclaimed:

"You have a wireless outfit on your craft; haven't you?"

"Yes."

"Then you can receive messages from here every hour if you wish. Garret
Jackson, your engineer, can send them, and you can pick them up in
mid-air if need be."

"So I can!" cried Tom. "I will go to the meet. I'll take the
Humming-Bird apart at once, and ship it to Eagle Park. Unless Dr.
Hendrix wants to go back in it," he added as an after thought.

"No," spoke Dr. Gladby, "Dr. Hendrix is