for the machine had suddenly swerved in a startling manner.

"Oh, that's just a new kind of spiral dip I was trying," answered Tom.
"I couldn't do that with my other machine, for I couldn't turn sharp
enough."

"Well, don't do it right away again," begged Mr. Damon, who had turned a
little white, and whose breath was coming in gasps, even though he was
used to hair-raising stunts in the frail craft of the air.

Tom did not take his machine far away, for he did not want to exhibit it
to the public yet, and he preferred to remain in the vicinity of his
home, in case of any accident. So he circled around, did figures of
eight, went up and down on long slants, took sharp turns, and gave the
craft a good tryout.

"Does it satisfy you?" asked Mr. Damon, when Tom had once more made the
spiral dip, but not at high speed.

"In a way, yes," was the answer. "I see a chance for several changes and
improvements. Of course, I know nothing about the speed yet, and that's
something that I'm anxious about, for I built this with the idea of
breaking all records, and nothing else. I know, now, that I can
construct a craft that will successfully navigate the air; in fact,
there are any number of people who can do that; but to construct a
monoplane that will beat anything ever before made is a different thing.
I don't yet know that I have done it."

"When will you?"