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Page 18
It seemed several hours to Tom that he pounded out that
cry for aid, but, as he afterward learned, it was only a
little over an hour. Signal after signal he sent vibrating
from the steel sides of the tank. When one arm tired he
would use the other. He grew weary, his head was aching, and
there was a ringing in his ears; a ringing that seemed as if
ten thousand bells were jangling out their peals, and he
could barely distinguish his own pounding.
Signal after signal he sounded. It was becoming like a
dream to him, when suddenly, as he paused for a rest, he
heard his name called faintly, as if far away.
"Tom! Tom! Where are you?"
It was the voice of Mr. Sharp. Then followed the tones of
the aged inventor.
"My poor boy! Tom, are you still alive?"
"Yes, dad! In the starboard tank!" the lad gasped out, and
then he lost his senses. When he revived he was lying on a
pile of bagging in the submarine shop, and his father and
the aeronaut were bending over him.
"Are you all right, Tom?" asked Mr. Swift.
"Yes--I--I guess so," was the hesitating answer. "Yes,"
the lad added, as the fresh air cleared his head. "I'll be
all right pretty soon. Have you seen Andy Foger?"
"Did he shut you in there?" demanded Mr. Swift.
Tom nodded.
"I'll have him arrested!" declared Mr. Swift "I'll go to
town as soon as you're in good shape again and notify the
police."
"No, don't," pleaded Tom. "I'll take care of Andy myself.
I don't really believe he knew how serious it was. I'll
settle with him later, though."
"Well, it came mighty near being serious," remarked Mr.
Sharp grimly. "Your father and I came back a little sooner
than we expected, and as soon as I got near the house I
heard your signal. I knew what it was in a moment. There
were Mrs. Baggert and Garret talking away, and when I asked
them why they didn't answer your call they said they thought
you were merely tinkering with the machinery. But I knew
better. It's the first time we ever had a use for 'forty-
seven,' Tom."
"And I hope it will be the last," replied the young
inventor with a faint smile. "But I'd like to know what Andy
Foger is doing in this neighborhood."
Tom was soon himself again and able to go to the house,
where he found Mrs. Baggert brewing a big basin of catnip
tea, under the impression that it would in some way be good
for his. She could not forgive herself for not having
answered his signal, and as for Mr. Jackson, he had started
for a doctor as soon as he learned that Tom was shut up in
the tank. The services of the medical man were canceled by
telephone, as there was no need for him, and the engineer
came back to the house.
Tom was fully himself the next day, and aided his father
and Mr. Sharp in putting the finishing touches to the
Advance. It was found that some alteration was required in
the auxiliary propellers, and this, much to the regret of
the young inventor, would necessitate postponing the trial a
few days.
"But we'll have her in the water next Friday." promised
Mr. Swift.
"Aren't you superstitious about Friday?" asked the
balloonist.
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