"I'll start the propellers now, Mr. Damon," said Tom, when the
trouble had been remedied. "You know how to throw the switch,
don't you?"
"I guess so," was the answer. Mr. Damon and Tom had traveled so
often together in gasoline craft that the young inventor had
taught his friend certain fundamentals about them, and in an
emergency the eccentric man could help start an aeroplane. This
he now did, taking charge of the controls which could be operated
from his seat as well as from Tom's. Tom whirled the propellers,
and soon the motor was in motion.
Mr. Damon, once the big wooden blades were revolving, slowed
down the apparatus until Tom could jump aboard, after which the
latter took charge and soon speeded up the machine, sending it
aloft.
As the green meadow, dimly seen in the light of the moon,
seemed to drop away below them, and the clump of trees vanished
from sight, both Tom and Mr. Damon wondered who it was that had
called for help, and if the matter were at all serious. They were
inclined to think it was not, but Tom could not rid himself of a
faint suspicion that there might have been trouble.
Pages:
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134