Chapter VI. The New Airship

For a brief instant after the stopping of the motor, and the consequent sudden dropping toward the earth of the monoplane, Tom glanced at Mr. Damon. The latter's face was rather pale, but he seemed calm and collected. His lips moved slightly, and Tom, even in those tense moments, wondered if the odd gentleman was blessing anything in particular, or everything in general.

Tom threw up the tilting plane, to catch more air beneath it, and bring the Butterfly in a more parallel position to the earth. This, in a manner, checked the downward flight, and they glided along horizontally for a hundred feet or more.

"Is--is there any great danger, Tom?" asked Mr. Damon.

"I think not," answered the young inventor, confidently. "I have done this same thing before, and from greater heights. The only thing that bothers me is that there are several cross-currents of air up here, which make it difficult to manage the planes and wing tips. But I think we'll make a good landing."

"Bless my overcoat!" exclaimed Mr. Damon "I certainly hope so."

Conversation was more easily carried on now, as the motor was not spitting fire and throbbing like a battery of Gatling guns. Tom thought perhaps it might start on the spark, as the propeller was slowly swinging from the force of air against it. He tried, but there was no explosion. He had scarcely hoped for it, as he realized that some part of the mechanism must have broken.

Down they glided, coming nearer and nearer to the earth. The crowd in the big athletic field grew larger. Shouts of wonder and fear could be heard, and people could be seen running excitedly about. To Tom and Mr. Damon they looked like dolls.

Reaching the limit of the parallel glide the monoplane once more shot down on an incline toward the earth with terrible speed. The ground seemed to rush up to meet Mr. Damon.

"Look out!" he cried to Tom. "We're going to hit something!"

"Not yet," was the calm answer "I'm going to try a new stunt. Hold fast!"

"What are you going to do?"

"Some spirals. I think that will let us down easier, but the craft is likely to tilt a bit, so hold on."

The young inventor shifted the movable planes and rudder, and, a moment later, the Butterfly swung violently around, like a polo pony taking a sudden turn after the ball. Mr. Damon slid to one side of his seat, and made a frantic grab for one of the upright supports.

"I made too short a turn!" cried Tom, easing off the craft, which righted itself in an instant. "The air currents fooled me."

Under his skillful guidance, the monoplane was soon slowly approaching the earth in a series of graceful curves. It was under perfect control, and a smile of relief came on the face of the young inventor. Seeing it