With the grace of a bird it turned about in the air, and
settled to the ground. It was the work of but a few minutes to
run it into the shed. Then they all started for the house.

"Bless my umbrella! How it rains!" cried Mr. Damon, as he
splashed on through numerous puddles. "We got back just in time,
Mr. Sharp."

"Where did you go?" asked the lad.

"Why we took a flight of about fifty miles and stopped at my
house in Waterfield for supper. Were you anxious about us?"

"A little when it began to storm," replied Tom.

"Anything new since we left?" asked Mr. Sharp, for it was the
custom of himself, or some of his friends, to take little trips
in the airship. They thought no more of it than many do of going
for a short spin in an automobile.

"Yes, there is something new," said Mr. Swift, as the party,
all drenched now, reached the broad veranda.

"Bless my gaiters!" cried Mr. Damon. "What is it? I hope the
Happy Harry gang hasn't robbed you again; nor Berg and his men
tried to take that treasure away from us, after we worked so hard
to get it from the wreck."

"No, it isn't that," replied Mr. Swift. "The truth is that Tom