Tom Swift, the young inventor, aided by Eradicate Sampson, the
colored helper of the Swift household, walked over toward a small
shed.

A few minutes later the two had rolled into view, on its three
bicycle wheels, a trim little monoplane--one of the speediest craft
of the air that had ever skimmed along beneath the clouds. It was
built to carry two, and had a very powerful motor.

"I guess it will work all right," remarked the young inventor, for
Torn Swift had not only built this monoplane himself, but was the
originator of it, and the craft contained many new features.

"It sho' do look all right, Massa Tom."

"Look here, Rad," spoke the lad, as a sudden idea came to him,
"you've never ridden in an airship, have you?"

"No, Massa Tom, an' I ain't gwine to nuther!"

"Why not?"

"Why not? 'Case as how it ain't healthy; that's why!"

"But I go in them frequently, Eradicate. So does my father. You've
seen us fly often enough, to know that it's safe. Why, look at the
number of times Mr. Damon and I have gone off on trips in this
little Butterfly. Didn't we always come back safely?"