Victor Appleton by Tom Swift;His Airship

Author:Tom Swift;His Airship
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-12-05T19:39:02+00:00

Chapter 12

- Some Startling News

* * *

“Well, there they go,” remarked Mrs. Baggert to Mr. Swift, as she strained her eyes toward the sky, against the blue of which the airship was now only a large, black ball.

“Yes, and a fine start they made,” replied the inventor. “I almost wish I had accompanied them, but I must not stop work on my submarine invention.”

“I do hope nothing will happen to them,” went on the housekeeper. “I declare, though, I feel just as if something was going to happen.”

“Nervousness, pure nervousness,” commented Mr. Swift. “Better take a little-er-I suppose catnip tea would be good.”

“Catnip tea! The very idea!” exclaimed Mrs. Baggert. “That shows how much you know about nervousness, Mr. Swift,” and she seemed a little indignant.

“Ha! Hum I Well, maybe catnip tea wouldn’t be just the thing. But don’t worry about Tom. I’m sure he can look after himself. As for Mr. Sharp he has made too many ascensions to run into any unnecessary danger.”

“Nervous!” went on the housekeeper, who seemed to resent this state being applied to her. “I’m sure I’m not half as nervous as that Mr. Damon. He gives me the fidgets.”

“Of course. Well, I must get back to my work,” said the inventor. “Ah, are you hurt, Eradicate?” he went on, as the colored man came back, driving Boomerang, who had been stopped just before reaching the road.

“No, Mistah Swift, I ain’t exactly damaged, but mah feelin’s am suah hurted.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, I thought I had growed strong in de night, when I lifted dat airship, but when I went to stop mah mule I couldn’t do it. He won’t hab no respect fo’ me now.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t let that worry me,” commented Mr. Swift, and he explained to Eradicate how it was that he had so easily lifted the end of the bouyant ship, which weighed very little when filled with gas.

The colored man proceeded with his work of whitewashing, the inventor was in his library, puzzling over tables of intricate figures, and Mrs. Baggert was in the kitchen, sighing occasionally as she thought of Tom, whom she loved almost as a son, high in the air, when two men came up the walk, from the street, and knocked at the side door. Mrs. Baggert, who answered the summons, was somewhat surprised to see Chief of Police Simonson and Constable Higby.

“They probably came to see the airship start,” she thought, “but they’re too late.”

“Ah, good morning, Mrs. Baggert,” greeted the chief. “Is Mr. Swift and his son about this morning?”

“Mr. Swift is in his library, but Tom is gone.”

“He’ll be back though, won’t he?” asked Constable Higby quickly-anxiously, Mrs. Baggert thought.

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “He and-“

“Just take us to see Mr. Swift,” interrupted the chief, with a look of caution at his aide. “We’ll explain matters to him.”

Wondering what could be the mission of the two officers, Mrs. Baggert led them to the library.

“It’s queer,” she thought, “that they don’t ask something about the airship. I suppose that was what they came for.

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