Andy Foger Will Contest
One afternoon, as Tom was working away in the shop on his sky racer, adjusting one of the rear rudders, and pausing now and then to admire the trim little craft, he heard some one approaching.Looking out through a small observation peephole made for this purpose, he saw Mrs.Baggert hurrying toward the building.
"I wonder what's the matter?" he said aloud, for there was a look of worriment on the lady's face.Tom threw open the door."What is it, Mrs.Baggert?" he called."Some one up at the house who wants to see me?""No, it's your father!" panted the housekeeper, for she was quite stout."He is very ill again, and I can't seem to get Dr.Gladby on the telephone.Central says he doesn't answer.""My father worse!" cried Tom in alarm, dropping his tools and hurrying from the shop."Where's Eradicate? Send him for the doctor.Perhaps the wires are broken.If he can't locate Dr.Gladby, get Dr.Kurtz.We must have some one.Here, Rad! Where are you?" he called, raising his voice.
"Heah I be!" answered the colored man, coming from the direction of the garden, which he had been weeding.
"Get cut your mule, and go for Dr.Gladby.If he isn't home, get Dr.Kurtz.Hurry, Rad!""I's mighty sorry, Massa Tom," answered the colored man, "but I cain't hurry, nohow.""Why not?"
"Because Boomerang done gone lame, an' he won't run.I'll go mahse'f, but I cain't take dat air mule.""Never mind.I'll go in the Butterfly," decided Tom quickly."I'll run up to the house and see how dad is, and while I'm gone, Rad, you get out the Butterfly.I can make the trip in that.If Dr.Kurtz had a 'phone I could get him, but he lives over on the back road, where there isn't a line.Hurry, Rad!""Yes, sah, Massa Tom, I'll hurry!"
The colored man knew how to get the monoplane in shape for a flight, as he had often done it.
Tom found his father in no immediate danger, but Mr.Swift had had a slight recurrence of his heart trouble, and it was thought best to have a doctor.So Tom started off in his air craft, rising swiftly above the housetop, and sailed off toward the old-fashioned residence of Dr.Kurtz, a sturdy, elderly German physician, who sometimes attended Mr.Swift.Tom decided that as long as Dr.Gladby did not answer his 'phone, he could not be at home, and this, he learned later, was the case, the physician being in a distant town on a consultation.
"My, this Butterfly seems big and clumsy beside my Humming-Bird," mused Tom as he slid along through the air, now flying high and now low, merely for practice."This machine can go, hut wait until I have my new one in the air! Then I'll show 'em what speed is!"He was soon at the physician's house, and found him in.
"Won't you ride back with me in the monoplane?" asked Tom."I'm anxious to have you see dad as soon as you can.
"Vot! Me drust mineself in one ob dem airships? I dinks not!" exclaimed Dr.Kurtz ponderously."Vy, I vould not efen ride in an outer- mobile, yet, so vy should I go in von contrivance vot is efen more dangerous? No, I gomes to your fader in der carriage, mit mine old Dobbin horse.Dot vill not drop me to der ground, or run me up a tree, yet! Vot?""Very well," said Tom, "only hurry, please."The young inventor, in his airship, reached home some time before the slow-going doctor got there in his carriage.Mr.Swift was no worse, Tom was glad to find, though he was evidently quite ill.
"So, ve must take goot care of him," said the doctor, when he had examined the patient."Dr.Gladby he has done much for him, und I can do little more.You must dake care of yourself, Herr Swift, or you vill--but den, vot is der use of being gloomy-minded? I am sure you vill go more easy, und not vork so much.""I haven't worked much," replied the aged inventor."I have only beenhelping my son on a new airship."
"Den dot must stop," insisted the doctor."You must haf gomplete rest-- dot's it--gomplete rest.""We'll do just as you say, doctor," said Tom."We'll give up the aeroplane matters, dad, and go away, you and I, where we can t see a blueprint or a pattern, or hear the sound of machinery.We'll cut it all out.""Dot vould he goot," said Dr.Kurtz ponderously.
"No, I couldn't think of it," answered Mr.Swift."I want you to go in that race, Tom--and win!""But I'll not do it, dad, if you're going to be ill.""He is ill now," interrupted the doctor."Very ill, Dom Swift.""That settles it.I don't go in the race.You and I'll go away, dad--to California, or up in Canada.We'll travel for your health.""No! no!" insisted the old inventor gently."I will be all right.Most of the work on the monoplane is done now, isn't it, Tom?""Yes, dad."
"Then you go on, and finish it.You and Mr.Jackson can do it without me now.I'll take a rest, doctor, but I want my son to enter that race, and, what's more, I want him to win!""Vell, if you don't vork, dot is all I ask.I must forbid you to do any more.Mit Dom, dot is different.He is young und strong, und he can vork.But you--not, Herr Swift, or I doctor you no more." And the physician shook his big head.
"Very well.I'll agree to that if Tom will promise to enter the race," said the inventor.
"I will," said Tom.
The physician took his leave shortly after that, the medicine he gave to Mr.Swift somewhat relieving him.Then the young inventor, who felt in a little better spirits, went back to his workshop.
"Poor dad," he mused."He thinks more of me and this aeroplane than he does of himself.Well, I will go in the race, and I'll--yes, I'll win!" And Tom looked very determined.
He was about to resume work on his craft when something about the way one of the forward planes was tilted attracted his attention.
