On their return to civilization with the gold, Mr.Swift, Tom, and their friends deposited the money in the Shopton Bank, where Ned Newton worked.Ned was a bright lad, but had not been advanced as rapidly as he deserved, and Tom knew this.He asked his father to speak to the president, Mr.Pendergast, in Ned's behalf, and, as a result the lad was made assistant cashier, for the request of a man who controlled a three hundred thousand dollar deposit was not to be despised.
In building the submarine Tom and his father rented a large cottage on the New Jersey seacoast, but, on returning from their treasure-quest they went back to Shopton, leaving the submarine at the boathouse of the shore cottage, which was near the city of Atlantis.That was in the fall of the year, and all that winter the young inventor had been busy on many things, not the least of which was his storage battery.It was now spring, and seeing the item in the paper, about the touring club prize for an electric auto, had given him a new idea.
But all thoughts of electric cars, and everything else, were driven from the mind of the young man, when, with his father, he rushed out to see the cause of the crash on the roof of the Swift homestead.
"There's something up there, Tom," called his father, as he splashed on through the rain.
"That's right," added his son."And somebody, too, to judge by the fuss they're making.""Maybe the house has been struck by lightning!" suggested the aged inventor.
"No, the storm isn't severe enough for that; and, besides, if the house had been struck you'd hear Mrs.Baggert yelling, Dad.She--"At that moment a woman's voice cried out:
"Mr.Swift! Tom! Where are you? Something dreadful has happened!" "There she goes!" remarked Mr.Swift, as he splashed into a mudpuddle.
"Bless my deflection rudder!" suddenly cried a voice from the flat roof of the Swift house."Hello! I say, is anyone down there?""Yes, we are," answered Tom."Is that you, Mr.Damon?" "Bless my collar button! It certainly is.""Where's Mr.Sharp? I don't hear him."
"Oh, I'm here all right," answered the balloonist."I'm trying to get the airship clear of the chimney.Mr.Damon--""Yes, I steered wrong!" interrupted the odd man."Bless my liver pin, but it was so dark I couldn't see, and when that clap of thunder came I shifted the deflection rudder instead of the lateral one, and tried to knock over your chimney.""Are either of you hurt?" asked Mr.Swift anxiously.
"No, not at all," replied Mr.Sharp."We were moving slowly, ready for a landing.""Is the airship damaged?" inquired Tom.
"I don't know.Not much, I guess," was the answer of the aeronaut."I've stopped the engine, and I don't like to start it again until I can see what shape we're in.""I'll come up, with Mr.Jackson," called Tom, and he hastily summoned Garret Jackson, an engineer, who had been in the service of Mr.Swift for many years.Together they proceeded to the roof by a stairway that led to a scuttle.
"Is anyone killed?" asked Mrs.Baggert, as Tom hurried up the stairs."Don't tell me there is, Tom!""Well, I don't have to tell you, for no one is," replied the young inventor with a laugh."It's all right.The airship tried to collide with the chimney, that's all."He was soon on the large, flat roof of the dwelling, and, with the aid of lanterns he, the engineer, and Mr.Sharp made a hasty examination.
"Anything wrong?" inquired Mr.Damon, looking out from the cabin of the Red Cloud where he had taken refuge after the crash, and to get out of the wet.
"Not much," answered Tom."One of the forward planes is smashed, but we can rise by means of the gas, and float down.Is all clear, Mr.Sharp?""All clear," replied the balloonist, for the airship had now been wheeled back from the entanglement with the chimney.
"Then here we go!" cried Tom, as he and the aeronaut entered the craft, while Mr.Jackson descended through the scuttle.
There came a fiercer burst to the storm, and, amid a series of dazzling lightning flashes and the muttering of thunder, the airship rose from the roof.Tom switched on the search-light, and, starting the big propellers, guided the craft skillfully toward the big shed where it was housed when not in use.
With the grace of a bird it turned about in the air, and settled to the ground.It was the work of but a few minutes to run it into the shed.Then they all started for the house.
"Bless my umbrella! How it rains!" cried Mr.Damon, as he splashed on through numerous puddles."We got back just in time, Mr.Sharp.""Where did you go?" asked the lad.
"Why we took a flight of about fifty miles and stopped at my house in Waterfield for supper.Were you anxious about us?""A little when it began to storm," replied Tom.
"Anything new since we left?" asked Mr.Sharp, for it was the custom of himself, or some of his friends, to take little trips in the airship.They thought no more of it than many do of going for a short spin in anautomobile.
"Yes, there is something new," said Mr.Swift, as the party, all drenched now, reached the broad veranda.
"Bless my gaiters!" cried Mr.Damon."What is it? I hope the Happy Harry gang hasn't robbed you again; nor Berg and his men tried to take that treasure away from us, after we worked so hard to get it from the wreck.""No, it isn't that," replied Mr.Swift."The truth is that Tom thinks he has invented a storage battery that will revolutionize matters.He's going to build an electric automobile, he says.""I am," declared the lad, as the others looked at him, "and it will be the speediest one you ever saw, too!"
