by some current of
air, shot ahead. But, in general, Tom maintained the lead, and among
the spectators there began a series of guesses as to how much he would
win by.

Tom glanced at the barograph. It registered a little over twelve
hundred feet. He looked at the speed gage. He was doing a trifle better
than a hundred miles an hour. He looked down at the signals. There was
twenty miles yet to go. It was almost time for the spurt for which he
had been holding back. Yet he would wait until five miles from the end,
and then he felt that he could gain and maintain a lead.

"Andy seems to be doing well," said Mr. Damon.

"Yes, he has a good machine," conceded Tom.

Five miles more were reeled off. Then another five. Another round of
that distance and Tom would key his motor up to the highest pitch, and
then the Humming-Bird would show what she could do. Eagerly Tom waited
for the right signal.

Suddenly the wireless began buzzing again. Quickly the young inventor
clamped the receiver to his ear. Mr. Damon saw him turn pale.

"Dr. Gladby says dad has a turn for the worse. There is little hope,"
translated Tom.

"Will you--are you going to quit?" asked Mr. Damon.

Tom shook his head.

"No!" he cried. "My father has become unconscious, so Mr. Jackson says,
but his last words were to me: 'Tell Tom to win the race!' And I'm
going to do it!"

Tom suddenly changed his plans. There was to be no waiting for the
signal now. He would begin his final spurt, and if possible finish the
hundred miles at his utmost speed, win the race and then hasten to his
father's side.

With a menacing roar the motor of the Humming-Bird took up the
additional power that Tom sent into her. She shot ahead like an eagle
darting after his prey. Tom opened up a big gap between his machine and
the one nearest him, which, at that moment, was the Antoinette, with
the Spaniard driving her.

"Now to win!" cried Tom, grimly.

Surely no race was ever flown as was that one! Tom flashed through the
air so quickly that his speed was almost incredible. The gage
registered one hundred and thirty miles an hour!

Down below in the grand stands, and on the aviation field, there were
yells of approval--of wonder--of fear. But Tom and Mr. Damon could not
hear them. They only heard the powerful song of the motor.

Faster and faster flew the Humming-Bird. Tom looked down, and saw the
signal put up which meant that there were but three miles more to go.
He