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I'll be around in the morning." Tom was somewhat relieved by the doctor's words, but not very much so, and he spent an anxious night, getting up every two hours to administer the medicine. Toward morning Mr. Swift fell into a heavy sleep, and did not awaken for some time. "Oh, you're much better!" declared Dr. Gladby when he saw his patient that day. "Yes, I feel better," admitted Mr. Swift.
Garret Jackson, your engineer, can send them, and you can pick them up in mid-air if need be." "So I can!" cried Tom. "I will go to the meet. I'll take the Humming-Bird apart at once, and ship it to Eagle Park. Unless Dr. Hendrix wants to go back in it," he added as an after thought. "No," spoke Dr. Gladby, "Dr. Hendrix is going to remain here for a few days, in case of an emergency.
"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."
"Haven't you any idea who it was?" asked Dr. Gladby of Mr. Jackson, as he prepared to leave. "Not the slightest. It was no one Tom or I had ever seen before. But whoever it was, he intended to destroy the Humming-Bird, that was evident!" "The scoundrel! I'm glad you foiled him in time; but it's too bad about Tom. However, we'll soon have him all right again."
Baggert, who was nervously going in and out of the room, again went to the telephone. "He's on his way," the housekeeper reported. "His wife said he just started out in his auto." Dr. Gladby hurried into the room a little later, and cast a quick look at Mr. Swift, who had again lapsed into unconsciousness. "Do you think he think he's going to die?" faltered Tom.
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.
Quickly the young inventor clamped the receiver to his ear. Mr. Damon saw him turn pale. "Dr. Gladby says dad has a turn for the worse. There is little hope," translated Tom. "Will you are you going to quit?" asked Mr. Damon. Tom shook his head. "No!" he cried. "My father has become unconscious, so Mr.
"Get out 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.
Swift was still in a semi-conscious condition, hardly breathing as he rested on the bed where they had placed him after the fire. "Vell," said the German physician, after a long silence, "vot is your obinion, my dear Gladby?" "I think an operation is necessary." "Yes, dot is so; but you know vot kind of an operation alone vill safe him; eh, my dear Gladby?" Dr. Gladby nodded.
He had been unable to find out who it was that had attempted once before to damage the monoplane, but he suspected it was the ill-favored man who was working with Andy. As for Mr. Swift, at times he seemed quite well, and again he required the services of a physician. "You will have to be very careful of your father, Tom," said Dr. Gladby.
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