he would have to give place to the Curtis, the Farman, or the Santos-Dumont, as these speedy machines, favored by a spurt from their motors, or by some current of air, shot ahead. But, in general, Tom maintained the lead, and among the spectators there began a series of guesses as to how much he would win by.
Tom glanced at the barograph. It registered a little over twelve hundred feet. He looked at the speed gage. He was doing a trifle better than a hundred miles an hour. He looked down at the signals. There was twenty miles yet to go. It was almost time for the spurt for which he had been holding back. Yet he would wait until five miles from the end, and then he felt that he could gain and maintain a lead.
"Andy seems to be doing well," said Mr. Damon.
"Yes, he has a good machine," conceded Tom.
Five miles more were reeled off. Then another five. Another round of that distance and Tom would key his motor up to the highest pitch, and then the Humming-Bird would show what she could do. Eagerly Tom waited for the right signal.
Suddenly the wireless began buzzing again. Quickly the young inventor clamped the receiver to his ear. Mr. Damon saw him turn pale.
