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Tom Swift and His Sky Racer or The Quickest Flight on ... - Fourmilab

Tom Swift and His Sky Racer or The Quickest Flight on ... - Fourmilab

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103“I’m going to beat you!” the bully boasted, <str<strong>on</strong>g>and</str<strong>on</strong>g> I haven’t a machine likeyours, after all. You were wr<strong>on</strong>g.““So I see,” stammered <str<strong>on</strong>g>Tom</str<strong>on</strong>g>, hardly knowing what to think. “What did youdo with my plans then?”“I never had them!”Andy turned away, <str<strong>on</strong>g>and</str<strong>on</strong>g> began to assist the men he had hired to help him.Like all the others, his machine had two seats, f<str<strong>on</strong>g>or</str<strong>on</strong>g> in this race each operat<str<strong>on</strong>g>or</str<strong>on</strong>g>must carry a passenger.<str<strong>on</strong>g>Tom</str<strong>on</strong>g> turned away, both glad <str<strong>on</strong>g>and</str<strong>on</strong>g> s<str<strong>on</strong>g>or</str<strong>on</strong>g>ry,—glad that his rival was not to racehim in a duplicate of the Humming-Bird, but s<str<strong>on</strong>g>or</str<strong>on</strong>g>ry that he had as yet no trackof the strangely missing plans.“I w<strong>on</strong>der where they can be?” mused the young invent<str<strong>on</strong>g>or</str<strong>on</strong>g>.<str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g>n came the firing of the preliminary gun. <str<strong>on</strong>g>Tom</str<strong>on</strong>g> rushed back to where Mr.Dam<strong>on</strong> stood waiting f<str<strong>on</strong>g>or</str<strong>on</strong>g> him.<str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g>re was a last look at the Humming-Bird. She was fit to race any machine<strong>on</strong> the ground. Mr. Dam<strong>on</strong> took his place. <str<strong>on</strong>g>Tom</str<strong>on</strong>g> started the propeller. <str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g>other c<strong>on</strong>testants were in their seats with their passengers. <str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g>ir assistantsstood ready to shove them off. <str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g> explosi<strong>on</strong>s of so many mot<str<strong>on</strong>g>or</str<strong>on</strong>g>s in acti<strong>on</strong> weredeafening.“How much thrust?” cried <str<strong>on</strong>g>Tom</str<strong>on</strong>g> to his machinist.“Twenty-two hundred pounds!”“Good!”<str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g> rep<str<strong>on</strong>g>or</str<strong>on</strong>g>t of the starting-gun could not be heard. But the smoke of itleaped into the air. It was the signal to go.<str<strong>on</strong>g>Tom</str<strong>on</strong>g>’s voice would not have carried five feet. He waved his h<str<strong>on</strong>g>and</str<strong>on</strong>g>s as asignal. <str<strong>on</strong>g>His</str<strong>on</strong>g> helper thrust the Humming-Bird f<str<strong>on</strong>g>or</str<strong>on</strong>g>ward. Over the smooth groundit rushed. <str<strong>on</strong>g>Tom</str<strong>on</strong>g> looked eagerly ahead. On a line with him were the othermachines, including Andy Foger’s Slugger.<str<strong>on</strong>g>Tom</str<strong>on</strong>g> pulled a lever. He felt his craft soar upward. <str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g> other machines alsopointed their noses into the air.<str<strong>on</strong>g>The</str<strong>on</strong>g> big race f<str<strong>on</strong>g>or</str<strong>on</strong>g> the ten-thous<str<strong>on</strong>g>and</str<strong>on</strong>g>-dollar prize was under way!

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