"Oh, when I make some changes, get the motor tuned up better, and let
her out for all she's worth. I want to do a hundred miles an hour, at
least. I'll arrange for a speedy flight in about two weeks more."

"Then I think I will stay home," said Mr. Damon.

"No; I'll need you," insisted Tom, laughing. "Now watch. I'm going to
let her out just a little."

He did, with the result that they skimmed through the air so fast that
Mr. Damon's breath became a mere series of gasps.

"We'll have to wear goggles and mouth protectors when we really go
fast!" yelled Tom above the noise of the motor, as he slowed down and
turned about for home.

"Go fast! Wasn't that fast?" asked Mr. Damon.

Tom shook his head.

"You wait, and you'll see," he announced.

They made a good landing, and Mr. Swift hastened up to congratulate his
son.

"I knew you could do it, Tom!" he cried.

"I couldn't, though, if it hadn't been for that wonderful engine of
yours, dad! How do you feel?"