Part 7 (1/2)
”Steer to one side!” called the balloonist.
Tom tried, but found that the helm had become jammed. The horizontal rudder would not work, and the craft was rus.h.i.+ng nearer and nearer, every minute, to the pile of brick and mortar.
”We're going to have a collision!” shouted Tom. ”Better shut off the power!”
The two propellers were whirling around so swiftly that they looked like blurs of light. Mr. Sharp came rus.h.i.+ng forward, and Tom relinquished the steering wheel to him. In vain did the aeronaut try to change the course of the airs.h.i.+p. Then, with a shout to Tom to disconnect the electric switch, the man turned off the power from the motor.
But it was too late. Straight at the tower rushed the Red Cloud, and, a moment later had hit it a glancing blow, smas.h.i.+ng the forward propeller, and breaking off both blades. The nose of the aluminum gas container knocked off a few bricks from the tower, and then, the s.h.i.+p losing way, slowly settled to the flat roof of the building.
”We're smashed!” cried Tom, with something like despair in his voice.
”That's nothing! Don't worry! It might be worse! Not the first time I've had an accident. It's only one propeller, and I can easily make another,” said Mr. Sharp, in his quick, jerky sentences. He had allowed some of the gas to escape from the container, making the s.h.i.+p less buoyant, so that it remained on the roof.
The aeronaut and Tom looked from the windows of the car, to note if any further damage had been done. They were just congratulating themselves that the rudder marked the extent, when, from a scuttle in the roof there came a procession of young ladies, led by an elderly matron, wearing spectacles and having a very determined, bristling air.
”Well, I must say, this is a very unceremonious proceeding!” exclaimed the spectacled woman. ”Pray, gentlemen, to what are we indebted for this honor?”
”It was an accident, ma'am,” replied Mr. Sharp, removing his hat, and bowing. ”A mere accident!”
”Humph! I suppose it was an accident that the tower of this building was damaged, if not absolutely loosened at the foundations. You will have to pay the damages!” Then turning, and seeing about two score of young ladies behind her on the flat roof, each young lady eying with astonishment, not unmixed with admiration, the airs.h.i.+p, the elderly one added: ”Pupils! To your rooms at once! How dare you leave without permission?”
”Oh, Miss Perkman!” exclaimed a voice, at the sound of which Tom started. ”Mayn't we see the airs.h.i.+p? It will be useful in our natural philosophy study!”
Tom looked at the young lady who had spoken. ”Mary Nestor!” he exclaimed.
”Tom--I mean Mr. Swift!” she rejoined. ”How in the world did you get here?”
”I was going to ask you the same question,” retorted the lad. ”We flew here.”
”Young ladies! Silence!” cried Miss Perkman, who was evidently the princ.i.p.al of the school. ”The idea of any one of you daring to speak to these--these persons--without my permission, and without an introduction! I shall make them pay heavily for damaging my seminary,”
she added, as she strode toward Mr. Sharp, who, by this time, was out of the car. ”To your rooms at once!” Miss Perkman ordered again, but not a young lady moved. The airs.h.i.+p was too much of an attraction for them.
Chapter 6
Getting Off The Roof
For a few minutes Mr. Sharp was so engrossed with looking underneath the craft, to ascertain in what condition the various planes and braces were, that he paid little attention to the old maid school princ.i.p.al, after his first greeting. But Miss Perkman was not a person to be ignored.
”I want pay for the damage to the tower of my school,” she went on. ”I could also demand damages for trespa.s.sing on my roof, but I will refrain in this case. Young ladies, will you go to your rooms?” she demanded.
”Oh, please, let us stay,” pleaded Mary Nestor, beside whom Tom now stood. ”Perhaps Professor Swift will lecture on clouds and air currents and--and such things as that,” the girl went on slyly, smiling at the somewhat embarra.s.sed lad.
”Ahem! If there is a professor present, perhaps it might be a good idea to absorb some knowledge,” admitted the old maid, and, unconsciously, she smoothed her hair, and settled her gold spectacles straighter on her nose. ”Professor, I will delay collecting damages on behalf of the Rocksmond Young Ladies Seminary, while you deliver a lecture on air currents,” she went on, addressing herself to Mr. Sharp.
”Oh, I'm not a professor,” he said quickly. ”I'm a professional balloonist, parachute jumper. Give exhibitions at county fairs. Leap for life, and all that sort of thing. I guess you mean my friend. He's smart enough for a professor. Invented a lot of things. How much is the damage?”
”No professor?” cried Miss Perkman indignantly. ”Why I understood from Miss Nestor that she called some one professor.”
”I was referring to my friend, Mr. Swift,” said Mary. ”His father's a professor, anyhow, isn't he, Tom? I mean Mr. Swift!”
”I believe he has a degree, but he never uses it,” was the lad's answer.