But Tom and Mr. Damon could not
hear them. They only heard the powerful song of the motor.
Faster and faster flew the Humming-Bird Tom looked down, and saw the
signal put up which meant that there were but three miles more to go. He
felt that he could do it. He was half a lap ahead of them all now. But
he saw Andy Foger's machine pulling away from the bunch.
"He's going to try to catch me!" exulted Tom.
Then something happened. The motor of the Humming-Bird suddenly
slackened its speed, it missed explosions, and the trim little craft
began to drop behind.
"What's the matter?" cried Mr. Damon.
"Three of the cylinders are out of business!" yelled Tom. "We're done
for, I guess."
On came the other machines, Andy in the lead, then the Santos-Dumont,
then the Farman, and lastly the Wright. They saw the plight of the
Humming-Bird and determined to beat her. Tom cast a despairing look up
at the motor. There was nothing to be done. He could not reach it In
mid-air. He could only keep on, crippled as he was, and trust to luck.
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