Part 8 (1/2)

The aeronaut and Miss Perkman were approaching together, and the old maid did not seem half so angry as she had been.

”You see,” Mr. Sharp was saying, ”it will be a good advertis.e.m.e.nt for your school. Think of having the distinction of having harbored the powerful airs.h.i.+p, Red Cloud, on your roof.”

”I never thought of it in that light,” admitted the princ.i.p.al.

”Perhaps you are right. I shall put it in my next catalog.”

”And, as for damages to the tower, we will pay you fifty dollars,”

continued the balloonist. ”Do you agree to that, Mr. Swift?” he asked Tom. ”I think your father, the professor, would call that fair.”

”Oh, as long as this airs.h.i.+p is partly the property of a professor, perhaps I should only take thirty-five dollars,” put in Miss Perkman.

”I am a great admirer of professors--I mean in a strictly educational sense,” she went on, as she detected a tendency on the part of some of the young ladies to giggle.

”No, fifty dollars will be about right,” went on Mr. Sharp, pulling out a well-filled wallet. ”I will pay you now.”

”And if you will wait I will give you a receipt,” continued the princ.i.p.al, evidently as much appeased at the mention of a professor's t.i.tle, as she was by the money.

”We're getting off cheap,” the balloonist whispered to Tom, as the head of the seminary started down the scuttle to the cla.s.s-rooms below.

”Maybe it's easier getting out of that difficulty than it will be to get off the roof,” replied the lad.

”Don't worry. Leave that to me,” the aeronaut said. It took considerable to ruffle Mr. Sharp.

With a receipt in full for the damage to the tower, and expressing the hope that, some day, in the near future, Professor Swift would do the seminary the honor of lecturing to the young lady pupils, Miss Perkman bade Mr. Sharp and Tom good-by.

”Young ladies, to your rooms!” she commanded. ”You have learned enough of airs.h.i.+ps, and there may be some danger getting this one off the roof.”

”Wouldn't you like to stay and take a ride in it?” Tom asked Miss Nestor.

”Indeed I would,” she answered daringly. ”It's better than a motor-boat. May I?”

”Some day, when we get more expert in managing it,” he replied, as he shook hands with her.

”Now for some hard work,” went on the young inventor to Mr. Sharp, when the roof was cleared of the last of the teachers and pupils. But the windows that gave a view of the airs.h.i.+p in its odd position on the roof were soon filled with eager faces, while in the streets below was a great crowd, offering all manner of suggestions.

”Oh, it's not going to be such a task,” said Mr. Sharp. ”First we will repair the rudder and the machinery, and then we'll generate some more gas, rise and fly home.”

”But the broken propeller?” objected Tom.

”We can fly with one, as well as we can with two, but not so swiftly.

Don't worry. We'll come out all right,” and the balloonist a.s.sumed a confident air.

It was not so difficult a problem as Tom had imagined to put the machinery in order, a simple break having impaired the working of the rudder. Then the smashed propeller was uns.h.i.+pped and the gas machine started. With all the pupils watching from windows, and a crowd observing from the streets and surrounding country, for word of the happening had spread, Tom and his friend prepared to ascend.

They arose as well as they had done at the shed at home, and in a little while, were floating over the school. Tom fancied he could observe a certain hand waving to him, as he peered from the window of the car--a hand in one of the school cas.e.m.e.nts, but where there were so many pretty girls doing the same thing, I hardly see how Tom could pick out any certain one, though he had extraordinarily good eyesight.

However, the airs.h.i.+p was now afloat and, starting the motor, Mr. Sharp found that even with one propeller the Red Cloud did fairly well, making good speed.