“No, Massa Tom,” answered the old colored man. “De kitchen didn’t cotch fire—jes’ dis pie whut I was makin’ fo’ yo’. I put her in de oven ob de gaskoliny stove, and den I forgot it. ’Case why? ’Case dat big giant got hungry an’ wanted me to fix him up suffin to eat. An’ when I were doin’ dat mah pie burned! Look, it’s laik a piece ob charcoal.” “And do you mean to tell me, Rad, that you raised an alarm of fire just because a pie burned?” cried Tom, somewhat sternly. “Suah, I did,” was the answer. “Why not? It was a fine pie!” “Well, bless my insurance policy!” exclaimed Mr. Damon while the others stood listening, hardly knowing whether to laugh or not. “You sure did give us a scare, Rad!” “I should say so!” murmured Tom. “Whew, but I’m glad it wasn’t true! It would have meant the end of my hopes. Mr. Jacks wouldn’t invest any more money if we burned up on the second third of our trip. But are you sure everything’s all right, Rad?” “Yes, Massa Tom, eberyt’ing but dish yeah pie!” and ruefully the old colored fellow held out the remains of the pastry. “Well, I’m glad it was no worse,” replied the young inventor. “I guess we can take these off,” he went on, as he began loosening his parachute belt. The others did likewise, and then word was relayed to the mechanicians in the plane above that all was well and that there was no need to leap out. “Well, then we’ll descend on Denver in the way we originally intended,” decided Tom, for they were now over that interesting and historic city. The same scenes were enacted here as had taken place in Chicago. A big crowd was on hand to welcome and cheer Tom Swift and his comrades, and the natural western exuberance of the people was a little too much for the police. Tom had difficulty in piloting the unclamped car through the mass of curious ones to the waiting _Osprey_, the propellers of which were slowly whirring in anticipation of the flight to the Pacific coast. But after answering many questions of the reporters and posing for his photograph and for the movie men, Tom at last was in the car beneath the third aeroplane. It was now well on in the afternoon, and if the originator of the airline express hoped to do the entire distance in sixteen hours it behooved him to “get a hustle on,” as Ned expressed it. “The hardest part of the trip is ahead of us, Tom,” his manager said. “I know it is,” was the answer. “Over the Rockies. But the predicted storm hasn’t come to the scratch, and I’m glad of that. It means quite a gain in time not to run into bad weather.” “Better wait before you crow,” said Ned. “We have about six hours of riding ahead of us, and there’s no telling what we may meet with.” Tom was glad to note, by inspections of the various gages, that the _Osprey_ was doing better in regard to speed than either the _Falcon_ or the _Eagle_. She fairly roared and soared her way into the air after leaving Denver, carrying aloft, in the car beneath her, the young inventor and his friends.