The Humming-Bird, in the big cases and boxes, had safely arrived, and
these were soon in the tent which had been assigned to Tom. It was
still several days until the opening of the meet, and the grounds
presented a scene of confusion.

Workmen were putting up grand stands, tents and sheds were being
erected, exhibitors were getting their machines in shape, and excited
contestants of many nationalities were hurrying to and fro, inquiring
about parts delayed in shipment, or worrying lest some of their pet
ideas be stolen.

Tom and Mr. Damon, with Frank Forker, the young machinist, were soon
busy in their big tent, which was a combined workshop and living
quarters, for Tom had determined to stay right on the ground until the
big race was over.

"I don't see anything of Andy Foger," remarked Mr. Damon, on the second
day of their residence in the park. "There are lots of new entries
arriving, but he doesn't seem to be on hand."

"There's time enough," replied Tom. "I am afraid he's hanging back
until the last minute, and will spring his machine so late that I won't
have time to lodge a protest. It would be just like him."

"Well, I'll be on the lookout for him. Have you heard from home to-day,
Tom?"

"No. I'm expecting a message any minute." The young inventor glanced
toward the wireless apparatus which had been set up in the tent. At
that moment there came the peculiar sound which indicated a message
coming through space, and down the receiving wires. "There's something
now!" exclaimed Tom, as he hurried over and clamped the telephone
receiver to his ear. He listened a moment.

"Good news!" he exclaimed. "Dad sat up a little to-day! I guess he's
going to get well!" and he clicked back congratulations to his father
and the others in Shopton.

Another day saw the Humming-Bird almost in shape again, and Tom was
preparing for a tryout of the engine.

Mr. Damon had gone over to the committee headquarters to consult with
Mr. Sharp about the steps necessary for Tom to take in case Andy did
attempt to enter a craft that infringed on the ideas of the young
inventor, and on his way back he saw a newly-erected tent. There was a
young man standing in the entrance, at the sight of whom the eccentric
man murmured:

"Bless my skate-strap! His face looks very familiar!"

The youth disappeared inside the tent suddenly, and, as Mr. Damon came
opposite the canvas shelter, he started in surprise.

For, on a strip of muslin whi