Tom Swift and his Great Oil Gusher: The Treasure of Goby Farm
9781465685476
213 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
“A grand day for a spin in the air, Ned,” remarked Tom Swift, as he stretched his arms and looked through the window of his office. “What do you say? Come along and let the wind blow some of the cobwebs out of your brain.” “Get thee behind me, Satan,” replied Ned Newton, the young financial manager of the Swift Construction Company. “I’ve got a heap of work yet to do in checking up this last monthly statement.” “That’ll keep,” said Tom. “You’ll find the figures waiting patiently for you when you get back. I know you’re well ahead of your work, anyway, and a whirl in the circumambient will do you good. You see, I’m only thinking of you.” “Yes, you are, you old hypocrite!” laughed Ned, who was about the same age and on the warmest terms of friendship with his talented young employer. “I’ve known for the last half hour that you weren’t paying any attention to what I’ve been saying and that your fingers were itching to get hold of the control lever of the Hummingbird. Well, I suppose you’ve got to get it out of your system, and it might as well be now as later. You go and tune up the old bus, and I’ll be with you just as soon as I’ve given some directions to my stenographer.” Tom went off to the flying field, where several airplanes of his own construction, from the smallest to the largest sizes, were kept in readiness for use, and selected one which he had dubbed the Hummingbird because of its diminutive size. Ned had suggested the name, Aerial Mosquito, but Tom had rejected this as casting a stigma on his pet which had never “stung” them yet. It was an attractive little craft, and Tom patted it lovingly as he went over every strut of the plane to see that it was in perfect condition. Long experience in flying had taught him to take nothing for granted. But there was nothing, even to his critical eye, that was lacking, and the same was true of the engine, which purred smoothly as it broke into its rhythmical song. “Listen to that!” Tom cried enthusiastically to Ned, who by this time had rejoined him. “Isn’t she humming sweetly? Never misses a note. No grand opera prima donna has anything on her!” “She sure sounds good,” agreed Ned, as he climbed into his seat and adjusted his straps. With one last look that took in everything, Tom followed him and started the plane. The take-off was perfect. She ran along the ground for a little distance and then soared into the air like a bird. Tom let her climb, feeling out the air currents, until they were at a height of about eight hundred feet. Then he put her on a level keel and settled back in his seat to enjoy his ride to the full. At that moment he would not have exchanged places with any one on earth. It was one of the perfect days that come in the late spring. There was scarcely a cloud in the sky. The sun was warm but not oppressive, and was tempered by a light and refreshing breeze. Below stretched a vast panorama of hill and valley and woodland, the trees and meadows luxuriant with their new coat of green. At the moment they were above Lake Carlopa, and they could see its waters gleaming like a mirror of crystal beneath the rays of the sun.
