“Better not strain ’em too much, sir,” suggested Sam Stone, who was to pilot the _Eagle_ part of the way on the second lap. “We don’t want to break anything.” “No,” said Tom, “we don’t want to break anything but records. How has everything been here? Any signs of those rascals?” “Well, there have been one or two suspicious fellows loitering around the hangar,” reported the mechanician. “But we warned them away. They didn’t blow us up, at any rate.” “I’m glad of that,” said Tom. “They tried it on Long Island,” and he related the Schlump incident. “He’ll probably wire his confederates out here or in Denver or San Francisco to muss us up if they can—anything to prevent this last trip from succeeding. So we must redouble our precautions.” “We’ll do that,” agreed Stone. The _Eagle_ at first did even better than the _Falcon_, and it seemed as if the hop between Chicago and Denver would be a record-breaker. But slight trouble developed about halfway across the plains, and though it was remedied, still they were forty minutes late, which not only ate up the half hour they had gained on the first lap, but cut ten minutes from the remaining time. “But we’ll make it up on the last lap!” declared Tom, with confidence. “Push her for all she’s got in her, boys!” he said to Dolan and Wright, who climbed into the cockpit at Denver. They got off to a roaring start, rose high in the air, and then headed straight for the Golden Gate. “I sure will be glad when the last trip is over,” remarked Mr. Damon, who sat in the car near Tom and Ned. “Why, are you getting tired of it?” asked the young inventor. “No. But my wife doesn’t speak to me, and she says she won’t as long as I take these crazy air trips. But I said I’d come on the last trip with you, Tom, and I’m going to stick!” “Well, I hope you don’t drop out now,” grimly joked Ned, as he looked from an observation window to the earth, several thousand feet below. “Bless my feather bed, I should hope not!” cried the odd man. Tom kept note of the distance traveled and the time used, and as several hours passed and the figures grew a pleased smile came over his face. “It begins to look as if we’d make up all we lost and more too, Ned!” he cried to his chum. The whistle of the tube communicating from the car to the cockpit sent out a shrill summons. “Hello! What is it?” called Tom. “You’d better come up here, Mr. Swift,” answered the voice of Art Wright. “Dolan seems to be knocked out and the motor is behaving very queerly. I’m afraid it’s going to die on us!” CHAPTER XXV A GLORIOUS FINISH “Stand by, Ned!” ordered Tom, in a low voice. “Get ready to follow me up above,” and the young inventor made ready to ascend the enclosed ladder to the cockpit overhead. “What’s wrong?” asked Ned. “I don’t know; but it looks like dirty work. I’m afraid they’ve got us, after all!” “How could they?”