determined that he would
clip many minutes from the best record yet made.

The body of his craft, between the forward wings and the rear ones,
where the rudders were located, was shaped like a cigar, with side
wings somewhat like the fin keels of the ocean liner to prevent a
rolling motion. In addition, Tom had an ingenious device to
automatically adapt his monoplane to sudden currents of air that might
overturn it, and this device was one of the points which he kept secret.

The motor, which was air-cooled, was located forward, and was just
above the heads of the operator and the passenger who sat beside him.
The single propeller, which was ten feet in diameter, gave a minimum
thrust of one thousand pounds at two thousand revolutions per minute.

This was one feature wherein Tom's craft differed from others. The
usual aeroplane propeller is eight feet in diameter, and gives from
four to five hundred pounds thrust at about one thousand revolutions
per minute, so it can be readily seen wherein Tom had an advantage.

"But I'm building this for speed," he said to Mr. Jackson, "and I'm
going to get it! We'll make a hundred miles an hour without trouble."

"I believe you," replied the engineer. "The motor you and your father
have made is a wonder for lightness and power."

In fact, the whole monoplane was so light and frail as to give one the
idea of a rather large model, instead of a real craft, intended for
service. But a careful inspection showed the great strength it had, for
it was braced and guyed in a new way, and was as rigid as a
steel-trussed bridge.

"What are you going to call her?" asked Mr. Jackson, about two weeks
after they had started work on the craft, and when it had begun to
assume shape and form.

"I'm going to name her the Humming-Bird," replied Tom. "She's little,
but oh, my!"

"And I guess she'll bring home the prize," added the engineer.

And as the days went by, and Tom, his father and Mr. Jackson continued
to work on the speedy craft, this hope grew in the heart of the young
inventor. But he could not rid himself of worry as to the fate of the
plans that had disappeared. Who had them? Was some one making a machine
like his own from them? Tom wished he knew.

Chapter Six

Andy Foger Will Contest

One afternoon, as Tom was working away in the shop on his sky racer,
adjusting one of the rear rudders, and pausing now and then to admire
the trim little craft, he heard some one ap