Tom had headed the ship up at a steep angle so as to get as much altitude as possible before the other motor should stop. But he knew in his heart that he could not hope to glide so heavy a plane as far as the lake.
Tom Headed the Ship Up
In some surprise Ned observed that Captain Britten was fumbling with the straps about his big, old-fashioned valise. Young Newton wondered what the elderly man was looking for so intensely.
"Ahoy there, Tom Swift!" boomed the old diver, straightening up with a bottle in his hand. "I've got a drop o' gasoline here that may help ye!"
"I've Got a Drop of Gasoline."
"What's that?" gasped the pilot. Turning, he saw the quart bottle. Already the remaining engine was dying of thirst. "Quick, Ned!" he ordered, snatching the container. "Take the controls and hold the ship level."
Five seconds later the inventor was creeping out along one wing toward the intake valve of the port gas tank. Their hearts almost in their mouths, his companions watched his hazardous progress. In spite of the clutching hand of the wind and the quavering of the ship under Ned's inexpert guidance, Tom managed to reach his goal.
