“Yes, when it’s with me!” Tom said, with a chuckle. “Not otherwise. I saw a black cat as we were taking off, and I guess that will neutralize Friday the thirteenth. Don’t worry!” There seemed to be no cause for worry on the first leg of the final trip. They got off very well, and under the care of Dolan, who had recovered from his indisposition, the _Osprey_ winged her way across the mountains like the bird whose name she bore. They were well ahead of their schedule when they landed in Denver, and luck was with them on the second lap, when Stone and his helper, with occasional relief from Tom and Ned, piloted the _Eagle_ on its eastern journey. “Well, Tom, old scout, it looks as if we were going to come through with flying colors!” cried Ned, as preparations to land in Chicago were being made. “I hope so,” was the answer. There was a quick change of the car from the _Eagle_ to the _Falcon_ at the Chicago field, and Tom was about to give the signal to take off when a man with a reflex camera came dashing across the field. There had been a score of newspaper pictures taken, as well as many feet of movies, and Tom and Ned thought this man was a late-comer. “Just a moment, Mr. Swift—please!” he cried, as he ran forward, his head almost inside the camera. Tom was used to this plea from the hard-working newspaper picture-takers, and though he was anxious to be off he delayed a moment. He knew it might mean the discharge of a man if he came back without a picture he had been ordered to get. A reflex camera, as those interested in photography know, is one with a focal plane shutter, exceedingly rapid in action. It is much used in news photography. The operator raises a hood, which serves the same purpose as the black focusing cloth in the photograph gallery. To get sharp pictures it is necessary to focus up to the last moment. In the reflex camera the operator can see the image of the picture he is about to take on a ground glass. When the focal plane shutter is released this ground glass automatically drops out of the way. Something in the actions of this man aroused the suspicions of Tom. He looked at him keenly for a moment as the fellow ran forward, his head almost inside his camera. Then, with a cry, Tom leaped out of the window of the car, and, like a football tackler, threw himself on the man. He knocked the fellow down, grabbed the camera and threw it as far as he could in a direction where there were no spectators. “Look out!” yelled Tom. “It’s a bomb!” So it proved, for when the “camera” landed there was a sharp report and a puff of smoke, followed by a shower of dirt. “I’ve got you, Schlump!” yelled the young inventor. Tom twisted the fellow’s hands up on his own back as he rolled him over on his face and sat on the scoundrel.