A Midnight Intruder

Tom Swift sent his wonderful little craft upward on a gentle slant.Higher and higher it rose above the ground.Now it topped the trees; now it was well over them.

On the earth below stood Mr.Swift, Mr.Jack son, Eradicate and Mrs.Baggert.They were the only witnesses of the trial flight, and as the aged inventor saw his son's latest design in aeroplanes circling in the air he gave a cheer of delight.It was too feeble for Tom to hear, but the lad, glancing down, saw his father waving his hand to him.

"Dear old dad!" thought Tom, waving in return."I hope he's well enough to see me win the big prize."Tom and Mr.Damon went skimming easily through the air, at no great speed, to be sure, for the young inventor did not want to put too sudden a strain on his motor.

"This is glorious!" cried the odd gentleman."I never shall have enough of aeroplaning, Tom!""Nor I, either," added his companion."But how do you like it? Don't you think it's an improvement on my Butterfly, Mr.Damon?""It certainly is.You're a wonder, Tom! Look out! What are you up to?" for the machine had suddenly swerved in a startling manner.

"Oh, that's just a new kind of spiral dip I was trying," answered Tom."I couldn't do that with my other machine, for I couldn't turn sharp enough.""Well, don't do it right away again," begged Mr.Damon, who had turned a little white, and whose breath was coming in gasps, even though he was used to hair-raising stunts in the frail craft of the air.

Tom did not take his machine far away, for he did not want to exhibit it to the public yet, and he preferred to remain in the vicinity of his home, in case of any accident.So he circled around, did figures of eight, went up and down on long slants, took sharp turns, and gave the craft a good tryout.

"Does it satisfy you?" asked Mr.Damon, when Tom had once more made the spiral dip, but not at high speed.

"In a way, yes," was the answer."I see a chance for several changes and improvements.Of course, I know nothing about the speed yet, and that's something that I'm anxious about, for I built this with the idea of breaking all records, and nothing else.I know, now, that I can construct a craft that will successfully navigate the air; in fact, there are any number of people who can do that; but to construct a monoplane that will beat anything ever before made is a different thing.I don't yet know that I have done it.""When will you?"

"Oh, when I make some changes, get the motor tuned up better, and let her out for all she's worth.I want to do a hundred miles an hour, at least.I'll arrange for a speedy flight in about two weeks more.""Then I think I will stay home," said Mr.Damon.

"No; I'll need you," insisted Tom, laughing."Now watch.I'm going to let her out just a little."He did, with the result that they skimmed through the air so fast that Mr.Damon's breath became a mere series of gasps.

"We'll have to wear goggles and mouth protectors when we really go fast!" yelled Tom above the noise of the motor, as he slowed down and turned about for home.

"Go fast! Wasn't that fast?" asked Mr.Damon.Tom shook his head.

"You wait, and you'll see," he announced.