Page:Tom Swift and His Sky Racer.djvu/193

Rh Then came the firing of the preliminary gun. Tom rushed back to where Mr. Damon stood waiting for him.

There was a last look at the Humming-Bird. She was fit to race any machine on the ground. Mr. Damon took his place. Tom started the propeller. The other contestants were in their seats with their passengers. Their assistants stood ready to shove them off. The explosions of so many motors in action were deafening.

"How much thrust?" cried Tom to his machinist.

"Twenty-two hundred pounds!"

"Good!"

The report of the starting-gun could not be heard. But the smoke of it leaped into the air. It was the signal to go.

Tom's voice would not have carried five feet. He waved his hands as a signal. His helper thrust the Humming-Bird forward. Over the smooth ground it rushed. Tom looked eagerly ahead. On a line with him were the other machines, including Andy Foger's Slugger.

Tom pulled a lever. He felt his craft soar upward. The other machines also pointed their noses into the air.

The big race for the ten-thousand-dollar prize was under way!