came to him, and he realized that his words might grate
on the feelings of his companion.

On they rushed through the air with the Humming-Bird speeded up faster
and faster as she warmed to her task. The machinery seemed to be
working perfectly, and as Tom listened to the hum a look of pleasure
replaced the look of anxiety on his face.

"Don't you think we'll make it?" asked Mr. Damon, after another pause,
during which they passed over a large city, the inhabitants exhibiting
much excitement as they sighted the airship over their heads.

"We've got to make it!" declared Tom between his clenched teeth.

He turned on a little more gasoline, and there was a spurt in their
speed which made Mr. Damon grasp the upright braces near him with firm
hands, and his face became a little paler.

"It's all right," spoke Tom, reassuringly. "There's no danger."

But Tom almost reckoned without his host, for a few moments later, as
he was trying to get more revolutions out of the propellers, he ran
into an adverse current of air.

In an instant the Humming-Bird was tilted up almost on her "beams'
ends," so to speak, and had it not been that the young inventor quickly
warped the wing tips, to counteract the pressure on one side, there
might have been a different end to this story.

"Bless my----!" began Mr. Damon, but he got no further, for he had to
bend his body as Tom did, to equalize the pressure of the wind current.

"A little farther over!" yelled the lad. "A little farther over this
way, Mr. Damon!"

"But if I come any more toward you I'll be out of my seat!" objected
the eccentric man.

"If you don't you'll be out of the aeroplane!" cried Tom grimly, and
his companion leaned over as far as he could until the young pilot had
brought the craft to an even keel again.

Then Tom speeded up the motor, which he had partly shut down as they
passed through the danger zone, and again they were racing through
space.

They were nearing Shopton now, as the lad and Mr. Damon could tell by
the familiar landmarks which loomed up in sight. Tom strained his eyes
for the first view of his home.

Suddenly, as they were skimming along, there came a cessation of the
hum and roar that told of the perfectly-working motor. It was an
ominous silence.

"What's--what's wrong?" gasped Mr. Damon.

"Something's given way," answered Tom quickly. "I'm afraid the magneto
isn't sparking as it ought to."

"Well, can't we volplane hack to earth?