"Dr. Gladby and Dr. Kurtz depend a great deal on Dr. Hendrix," he
said.
"Yes, he certainly is a wonderful man. I have heard a great deal about
him. I have no doubt but what he will cure your father. But about the
fire? How did it start?"
"I don't know, but now that I have a few hours to spare before the
doctor can get here, I'm going to make an examination."
"Bless my penwiper, but I'll help you."
Tom went into the house, to inquire of Mrs. Baggert, for probably the
tenth time that morning, how his father was doing. Mr. Swift was still
in a semi-conscious condition, but he recognized Tom, when the youth
stood at his bedside.
"Don't worry about me, son," said the brave old inventor, as he took
Tom's hand. "I'll be all right. Go ahead and get ready for the race. I
want you to win!"
Tears came into Tom's eyes. Would his father be well enough to allow him
to take part in the big event? He feared not.
By daylight it was seen that quite a hole had been burned in the
aeroplane shed. Tom and Mr. Damon, accompanied by Mr.
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