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.
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