"What happened?" cried Jackson to Tom, as he leaned forward in his seat which was in the rear of the young inventor's.
"Don't know, exactly," was the answer, as Tom quickly shifted the rudders to correct the slanting fall of his craft."Sounded as though there was a tremendous back-fire, or else the muffler blew up.The engine is dead.""Can you take her down safely?"
"Oh, yes, I guess so.She's a bit out of control, but the stabilizer will keep her on a level keel.Good thing we installed it.""You're right!" said Jackson.
Now they were falling earthward with great rapidity, but, thanks to the gyroscope stabilizer, the "side-slipping," than which there is no motion more dreaded by an aviator, had nearly ceased.The craft was volplaning down as it ought, and Tom had it under as perfect control as was possible under the circumstances.
"We'll get down all right if something else doesn't happen," he said to Jackson, with grim humor.
"Well, let's hope that it won't," said the mechanic."We're a good distance up yet."They were, as a matter of fact, for the explosion, or whatever had happened to the craft, had occurred at a height of over two miles, and they at once began falling.As yet Tom Swift was unaware of the exact nature of the accident or its cause.All he knew was that there had been a big noise and that the engine had stopped working.He could not see the silencer from where he sat, as it was constructed on the underside of the motor, but he had an idea that the same sort of mishap had occurred as on the occasion when the test machine had sailed through the roof of his workshop.
"But, luckily, this wasn't as bad," mused Tom."Anyhow the motor is out of business."And this was very evident.The young inventor had tried to start the apparatus after its stoppage by the explosion, but it had not responded tohis efforts, and then he had desisted, fearing to cause some further damage, or, perhaps, endanger his own life and that of Jackson.
Down, down swept Silent Sam--doubly silent now, and Tom began looking about for a good place to make a landing.This was nothing new for either him or his mechanician, and they accepted the outcome as a matter of course.
"Not a very lively place down there," remarked Jackson, as he looked over the side of the cockpit.
"If we have to depend for help on any one down there, I guess we'll be a long time waiting," agreed Tom.They were about to land in a very lonely spot.It was one he had never before visited, though he knew it could not be much more than twenty miles from his own home, as they had not flown much farther than that distance.
But, somehow or other, Tom had not visited this particular section, and knew nothing of it.He saw below him, as Jackson had seen, a lonely stretch of country--a big field, once a wood-lot, evidently, as scattered about were some stumps and some second growth trees.There were also a number of evergreens--Christmas trees Jackson called them.And this was the only open place for miles, the surrounding country being a densely wooded one.There did not appear to be a house or other building in sight where they might seek help.
"But maybe we can make the repairs ourselves and keep on," the lad thought.
With practiced eye he picked out a smooth, grassy, level spot, in the midst of scattered evergreen trees, and there Tom Swift skillfully brought his Air Scout to rest.With a gentle thud the rubber-tired wheels struck the Earth, rolled along a little distance, and then called to a stop.
Hardly had the aeroplane ceased moving when Tom and his companion jumped out and began eagerly to examine the machinery to see the extent of damage.
