“No,” said Tom.  “I must tell Eradicate to keep his weather eye open for him, though.  No telling what Andy’ll do.  Well, I must finish eating, or Ned will be here before I’m through.”

After dinner, Ned arrived, and helped Tom start the motor.  With a roar and a bang the swift little machine rapidly got up speed, the propellers whizing so fast that they looked like blurs of light.  The sky racer was held back by a rope, as Tom wanted to note the “pull” of the propellers, the force they exerted against the air being registered on a spring balance.

“What does it say, Ned?” cried the young inventor as he adjusted the carburettor.

“A shade over nine hundred pounds.”

“Guess that’ll do.  Hop in, and I’ll cast off from the seat.”

This Tom frequently did when there was no one available to hold the aeroplane for him while he mounted.  He could pull a cord, loosen the retaining rope, and away the craft would go.

The two chums were soon seated side by side and then Tom, grasping the steering wheel, turned on full power and jerked the releasing rope.

Over the ground shot the sky racer, quickly attaining speed until, with a deft motion, the young inventor tilted the deflecting rudder and up into the air they shot.

“Oh, this is glorious!” cried Ned, for, though he had often taken trips with Tom, every time he went up he seemed to enjoy it more.

Higher and higher they rose, rose and then with the sharp nose of the craft turned in the proper direction they sailed off well above the trees and houses toward Waterford.

“Guess I’ll go up a bit higher,” Tom yelled into his chums ear when they were near their destination.  “Then I can make a spiral glide to earth.  I haven’t practiced that lately.”

Up and up went the sky racer, until it was well over the town of Waterford, where Mr. Damon lived.

“There’s his place!” yelled Ned, pointing downward.  He had to yell to be heard above the noise of the motor.  Tom nodded in reply.  He, too, had picked out Mr. Damon’s large estate.  There were many good landing places on it, one near the house for which Tom headed.

The aeroplane shot downward, like a bird darting from the sky.  Tom grasped the rudder lever more firmly.  He looked below him, and then, suddenly he uttered a cry of terror.

“What is it?” yelled Ned.

“The rudder!  The deflecting rudder!  It’s jammed, and I can’t throw her head up!  We’re going to smash into the ground, Ned!  I can’t control her!  Something has gone wrong!”

CHAPTER V

NEWS FROM AFRICA

Blankly, and with fear in his eyes, Ned gazed at Tom.  The young inventor was frantically working at the levers, trying to loosen the jammed rudder—­the rudder that enabled the sky racer to be tilted upward.

“Can’t you do it?” cried Ned.