The Great Race
"Well," remarked Mr.Sharp, when Tom and Mr.Damon had called on him, to state that Andy Foger's machine was now on the grounds, and demanding to be allowed to view it, to see if it was an infringement on the one entered by the young inventor, "I'll do the best I can for you.I'll lay the case before the committee.It will meet at once, and I'll let you know what they say.""Understand," said Tom, "I don't want to interfere unless I am convinced that Andy is trying an underhand trick.My plans are missing, and I think he took them.If his machine is made after those plans, it is, obviously, a steal, and I want him ruled out of the meet.""And so he shall be!" exclaimed Mr.Sharp."Get the evidence against him, and we'll act quickly enough."The committee met in about an hour, and considered the case.Meanwhile, Tom and Mr.Damon strolled past the tent with its flaring sign.There was a man on guard, but Andy was not in sight.
Then Tom was sent for, and Mr.Sharp told him what conclusion had been arrived at.It was this:
"Under the rules of the meet," said the balloonist, "we had to guarantee privacy to all the contestants until such time as they choose to exhibit their machines.That is, they need not bring them out until just before the races," he added."This is not a handicap affair, and the speediest machine, or the one that goes to the greatest height, according to which class it enters, will win.In consequence we cannot force any contestant to declare what kind of a machine he will use until he gets ready.
"Some are going to use the familiar type of biplanes and, as you can see, there is no secret about them.They are trying them out now." This was so, for several machines of this type were either in the air, circling about, or were being run over the ground.
"But others," continued Mr.Sharp, "will not even take the committee into their confidence until just before the race.They want to keep theircraft a secret.We can't compel them to do otherwise.I'm sorry, Tom, but the only thing I see for you to do is to wait until the last minute.Then, if you find Andy has infringed on your machine, lodge a protest-- that is unless you can get evidence against him before that time."Tom well knew the uselessness of the latter plan.He and Mr.Damon had tried several times to get a glimpse of the craft Andy had made, but without success.As to the other alternative--that of waiting until the last moment--Tom feared that, too, would be futile.
"For," he reasoned, "just before the race there will be a lot of confusion, officials will be here and there, scattered over the ground, they will be hard to find, and it will be almost useless to protest then.Andy will enter the race, and there is a possibility that he may win.Almost any one could with a machine like the Humming-Bird.It's the machine almost as much as the operator, in a case like this.""But you can protest after the race," suggested Mr.Damon.
"That would be little good, in case Andy beat me.The public would say I was a sorehead, and jealous.No, I've either got to stop Andy before the race, or not at all.I will try to think of a plan."Tom did think of several, but abandoned them one after the other.He tried to get a glimpse inside the tent where the Foger aeroplane Was housed, but it was too closely guarded.Andy himself was not much in evidence, and Tom only had fleeting glimpses of the bully.
Meanwhile he and Mt Damon, together with their machinist, were kept busy.As Tom's craft was fully protected by patents now, he had no hesitation in taking it out, and it was given several severe tests around the aerial course.It did even better than Tom expected of it, and he had great hopes.
Always, though, there were two things that worried him.One was his father's illness, and the other the uneasiness he felt as to what Andy Foger might do.As to the former, the wireless reports indicated that Mr.Swift was doing as well as could be expected, but his improvement was not rapid.Regarding the latter worry, Tom saw no way of getting rid of it.
"I've just got to wait, that's all," he thought.
The day before the opening of the meet, Tom and Mr.Damon hadgiven the Humming-Bird a grueling tryout.They had taken her high up-- so high that no prying eyes could time them, and there Tom had opened the motor for all the power in it.They had flashed through space at the rate of one hundred and twenty miles an hour.
"If we can only do that in the race, the ten thousand dollars is mine!" exulted Tom, as he slanted the nose of the aeroplane toward the earth.
The day of the race dawned clear and beautiful.Tom was up early, for there remained many little things to do to get his craft in final trim for the contest.Then, too, he wanted to be ready to act promptly as soon as Andy's machine was wheeled out, and he also wanted to get a message from home.
The wireless arrived soon after breakfast, and did not contain very cheering news.
"Your father not so well," Mr.Jackson sent."Poor night, but doctor thinks day will show improvement.Don't worry.""Don't worry! I wonder who could help it," mused poor Tom."Well, I'll hope for the best," and he wired back to tell the engineer in Shopton to keep in touch with him, and to flash the messages to the Humming-Bird in the air, after the big race started.
"Now I'll go out and see if I can catch a glimpse of what that sneak Andy has to pit against me," said Tom.
The Foger tent was tightly closed, and Tom turned back to his own place, having arranged with a messenger to come and let him know as soon as Andy's craft was wheeled out.
All about was a scene of great activity.The grand stands were filled, and a big crowd stood about the field anxiously waiting for the first sight of the "bird-men" in their wonderful machines.Now and then the band blared out, and cheers arose as one after another the frail craft were wheeled to the starting place.
