There was a last lock at the Humming-Bird. She was fit to race any
machine on the ground. Mr. Damon took his place. Tom started the
propeller. The other contestants were in their seats with their
passengers. Their assistants stood ready to shove them off. The
explosions of so many motors in action were deafening.
"How much thrust?" cried Tom to his machinist.
"Twenty-two hundred pounds!"
"Good!"
The report of the starting-gun could not be heard. But the smoke of it
leaped into the air. It was the signal to go.
Tom's voice would not have carried five feet. He waved his hands as a
signal. His helper thrust the Humming-Bird forward. Over the smooth
ground it rushed. Tom looked eagerly ahead. On a line with him were the
other machines, including Andy Foger's Slugger.
Tom pulled a lever. He felt his craft soar upward. The other machines
also pointed their noses into the air.
The big race for the ten-thousand-dollar prize was under way!
Chapter Twenty Four
Won by a Length
Rising upward, on a steep slant, for he wanted to get into the upper
currents as soon as possible, Tom looked down and off to his left and
saw one machine going over the ground in curious leaps and bounds.
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