He shut off the power. The motor was silent, the Humming-Bird began to fall. But ere she had gone down ten feet Tom suddenly switched on the batteries. There was a moment of silence, and then came the welcome roar that told of the rekindled motor. And such a roar as it was! Every cylinder was exploding as though none of them had ever stopped!
"We did it!" yelled Tom. Opening up at full speed, he sent the sky racer on the course to overtake and pass his rivals.
Slowly he crept on them. They looked back and saw him coming. They tried to put on more speed, but it was impossible. Andy Foger was in the lead. He was being slowly overhauled by the Santos-Dumont, with the queer tail-rudders.
"I'll get him!" muttered Tom. "I'll pass 'em all!"
And he did. With a wonderful burst of speed the little Humming-Bird overtook one after another of her larger rivals, and passed them. Then she crept up on Andy's Slugger.
In an instant more it was done, and, a good length in advance of the Foger craft, Tom shot over the finish line a winner, richer by ten thousand dollars, and, not only that, but he had picked up a mile that had been lost, and had snatched victory from almost certain defeat.
There was a succession of thundering cheers as he shut off the motor, and volplaned to earth, but he paid little attention to them. He brought his craft to a stop just as the wireless on it buzzed again.
He listened with a look of pain on his face.
"My father is dying," he said simply. "I must go to him. Mr. Damon, will you fill the tanks with oil and gasoline, while I send off a message?"
"Oil and gasoline," murmured the odd man, while hundreds pressed up to congratulate Tom Swift "What are you going to do?"