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Chapter Nineteen. A Nervy Specialist - Page 2
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The young inventor saw the ground slipping backward beneath him. Carefully he watched the various indicators, and listened intently to the sound of the cylinders' explosions. They came rapidly and regularly. The motor was working well.
Tom glanced at the barograph. It registered two thousand feet, and he decided to keep at about that height, as it gave him a good view, and he could see to steer, for a route had been hastily mapped out for him by his friends.
Over cities, towns, villages, scattered farmhouses; across stretches of forest; over rivers, above big stretches of open country he flew. Often he could see eager crowds below, gazing up at him. But he paid no heed. He was looking for a sight of a certain broad river, which was near Kirkville. Then he knew he would be close to his goal.
He had speeded up the motor to the limit, and there was nothing to do now, save to manage the planes, wing tips and rudders, and to see that the gasoline and oil were properly fed to the machine.
Faster and faster went the Humming-Bird, but Tom's thoughts were even faster. He was thinking of many things-- of his father--of what he would do if Mr. Swift died--of the mysterious airship--of the stolen plans--of the fire in the shed--of the great race--and of Andy Foger.
He took little note of time, and when, in less than an hour he sighted the river that told him he was near to Kirkville, he was rather startled.
"You certainly did come right along, Humming-Bird!" he murmured proudly.
He descended several hundred feet, and, as he passed over the town, the people of which grew wildly excited, he looked about for the house of the noted specialist. He knew how to pick it out, for Dr. Gladby had described it to him, and Tom was glad to see, as he came within view of the residence, that it was surrounded by a large yard.
"I can land almost at his door," he said, and he did, volplaning to earth with an ease born of long practice.
To say that Dr. Hendrix was astonished when Tom dropped in on him in this manner, would not be exactly true. The specialist was not in the habit of receiving calls from youths in aeroplanes, but the fact was, that Dr. Hendrix was so absorbed in his work, and thought so constantly about it, that it took a great deal to startle him out of his usual calm.
"And so you came for me in your aeroplane?" he asked of Tom, as he gazed at the trim little craft. It is doubtful if he really saw it, however, as Dr. Hendrix was just then thinking of an operation he had performed a few hours before. "I'm sorry you had your trip for nothing," he went on. "I'd like very much to come to your father, but didn't you get my telegram, telling about the broken bridge? There is no way for me to get to Shopton in time."
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