THE LAST TRICK
“START the engine! Give me some speed!” Tom yelled desperately. “I’ve
got to zoom!”
He meant, by this, a sudden and sharp lifting of the airship over the
whale, as a birdman often zooms to avoid crashing into trees or some
obstruction.
Luckily, Peltok was on duty in the engine compartment. He had shut off
power but a short time before, and the cylinders were still hot. In a
second the machinist switched on the spark, hoping to start the motors
on compression as can sometimes be done. To his delight it happened this
time.
With a roar the powerful engines started up, whirring the propellers and
giving the craft enough momentum for Tom to lift her over the whale’s
back.
But so little room was there to spare that afterward, observers in
near-by boats declared that the spouting of the whale wet the lower
portion of the _Monarch_.
Tom could well believe this, for when the big creature, alarmed by the
near approach of the air craft, raised its flukes and slammed them down
on the surface of the sea, preparatory to sounding, the water was washed
in a big wave over the rudders of the _Air Monarch_ tearing loose some
of the stays and guy wires of the elevating surfaces.
It was a narrow escape, and Tom realized this as, a little farther on,
he brought his craft safely to the calm surface of the bay while behind
him the waves were ruffled by the sinking of the whale that was soon
lost to sight.
“If this keeps us,” remarked Ned whimsically, as he sat on a locker,
“I’ll be a nervous wreck after this race. It’s just one bit of
excitement and narrow squeak after another.”
“We have had a little more than our share,” admitted Tom. “But I think
the worst is over now.”
“You sure handled your ship like a veteran!” commended the two
shipwrecked sailors.
Tom’s arrival at Honolulu was greeted with a great demonstration on the
part of officials and the populace, some of whom had expected that one
or more of the world racers might pass over their islands. So when word
came that Tom had stopped to take on gasoline and oil, arrangements were
made to fête him. But he had little time for any ceremonies although he
did consent to be decked with a wreath of flowers—a native custom.
“I want to hop off again as soon as I can,” he told the welcoming
delegation, though as politely as possible. “You understand how it is.”
“Oh, yes, we understand,” was the reply. “But one of your rivals is
here, and he seems to be taking his time.”
“Who is it?” asked Tom, though he was almost prepared for the answer
that came.
“Dan Kilborn in the _Red Arrow_.”
“Here ahead of us!” exclaimed Ned.
“That isn’t to be wondered at!” remarked Tom. “The thing for us to do is
to leave ahead of him and keep him at a distance.”
They learned that the _Red Arrow_ had arrived two days before with a
broken cam shaft and that the repairs were nearly completed. On hearing
this Tom hastened as much as he could the taking on of gas, oil, and
other necessities. But when it seemed that they might get under way
again a few hours after landing in Honolulu, Peltok discovered another
small burned-out bearing that must be replaced.
“It will not take long,” he said, “as we have spare parts for that. By
night we can be moving again.”
“I hope so,” murmured Tom.
The two shipwrecked sailors were taken in charge by the captain of a
vessel who promised them berths, and Tom and Ned sent home radiograms
telling of their progress up to date.
In spite of Peltok’s assertion that it would not take long to replace
the burned-out bearing, it did, and he had to amend his calculation so
that it would be midnight before the _Air Monarch_ could take off again.
Tom and Ned occupied their time by visiting places of interest, and it
was when they were coming out of a restaurant that they saw a crowd
approaching them. Thinking it was only curious ones who wanted to look
at the “world fliers,” the two young men paid little heed until they
heard a voice they knew saying:
“There’s Tom Swift now! Arrest him! I’ll make the charge!”
Tom and Ned wheeled about to see Dan Kilborn facing them. The pilot of
the _Red Arrow_ was in company with a police officer, and again he
exclaimed:
“Arrest Tom Swift!”
“On what charge?” asked the officer.
“He tried to kill me!”
“Kill you!” shouted Tom. “Are you crazy?”
“No, I’m perfectly rational!” sneered Kilborn. “But I make that charge.
A charge of attempting my life! Tom Swift dropped from his airship a
Chinaman on my head, severely injuring me.”
And then it came to Tom and Ned what the rascal meant. He was referring
to the time he had set the Chinese bandits on to wreck the _Air
Monarch_. One of the bandits had been carried up by catching hold of a
rope as Tom sent his craft aloft, but the frightened fellow had loosed
his hold and dropped on Kilborn’s head.
“Arrest Tom Swift!” again demanded the _Red Arrow_ pilot.
As he hastened forward, so did the police officer, accompanied by a
number of others.
“I am sorry,” said the officer to Tom, “that I shall have to take you
into custody. There must be a hearing, but probably, since no one was
really killed, you will be admitted to bail.”
“You mean that I must submit to arrest and probably lose a day, if not
more, arranging for bail on this untrue charge?” asked Tom indignantly.
“Such is the law,” was the answer.
“It’s a foolish law!” cried Ned. “It was Kilborn’s own fault that the
Chinese bandit dropped on him. He sent them to attack us!”
“I did nothing of the sort!” declared Kilborn brazenly.
“I must take you into custody, young man,” said the officer. “I am
sorry, but this gentleman,” and he pointed to Kilborn, “has sworn out a
warrant against you, charging you with assault with intent to kill. I
must do my duty.”
“All right,” assented Tom, with such seeming cheerfulness that Ned
looked at him curiously. “If I have to go with you I suppose I must. But
this is your last trick, Kilborn!” the young inventor suddenly cried.
“I’m going to play trumps from now on! Follow me, Ned!”
With a sudden motion Tom tripped the officer who had reached out a hand
to apprehend him. He pushed the man backward into the midst of his
fellows, and then sent a fist full into Kilborn’s face, whirling him
aside.
Then, like a football player, Tom turned and ran back into the
restaurant, followed by Ned, who did not know what to make of it.
“They’ll trap us in here, Tom!” panted his chum.
“No, there’s a back way out that leads directly to the beach!” whispered
Tom. “I noticed that when we were in there. Come on. We can beat Kilborn
yet!”
On they rushed, through the midst of the astonished waiters and patrons
in the dining room. Out through the kitchen they went and into a back
alley. Tom had marked the way well, and in a few minutes, leaving a
confused and yelling crowd of men behind them, the two reached the
harbor, and, engaging a motor launch by the simple but effective method
of shoving gold coin into the owner’s hand, were soon aboard the _Air
Monarch_.
“How about it?” gasped Tom to the workmen. “Can we start?”
“At once, if there is need!” answered Peltok.
“There’s the greatest need in the world if I’m going to win the race!”
cried Tom.
A minute later the _Air Monarch_ rose.