But it was not in his nature to quit, and he cudgeled his brain desperately to find some way of averting the calamity. Suddenly a thought came to him like an inspiration.
“Come along, Ned. You too, Koku,” he shouted. “Mr. Damon, you keep the men working.” And without waiting for an answer the young inventor started on a run for the Winged Arrow.
Ned and Koku were close on his heels when he reached the giant plane. Fortunately, it was always kept in readiness for instant flight.
“Jump in!” he shouted to his companions, setting the example.
He started the engine and the plane soared into the air and turned its nose toward Copperhead.
“Ned,” he said, “those fire bombs of ours! We shipped a lot of them to Southern cities. Which is the nearest town that has some? Think quickly, old boy.”
Ned caught on to Tom’s idea instantly.
“We sent a lot of them to Dallas,” he replied. “A big shipment went to Wesson and Robbins of that place. No doubt they have some of them on hand.”
“Good!” cried the young inventor. “There’s a flying field on the outskirts of that town. I’ll let you down as near to Copperhead as possible. You rush to the office and get Wesson and Robbins on the long distance ’phone. Tell them to have a dozen of them at the flying field when I get there. I won’t wait for you, but put right out for Dallas on the chance. It’s nearly a hundred miles, but the Winged Arrow will make it in an hour. You hotfoot it back to the farm—get an auto or a horse—and take charge there till I get back. Keep the fire down as much as you can.”
“I’ll do it,” said Ned. “Great head, old boy. Good luck.”