Schlump it proved to be. He had hoped to get close enough not to be recognized by holding his face down in the fake camera. And he almost succeeded, adopting the guise of a newspaper photographer. The camera was but an empty black box with a fake lens. Inside Schlump held a bomb with a slight charge of powder in it. He dared not use much for he, himself, would be close when he hurled it. But Tom had sensed the danger in time, and by his prompt action had saved himself and his friends from injury, if not death, and had saved the plane from damage. “Hold him! I’ll prefer charges against him after I reach New York!” cried Tom, as police officers hurried up and took the plotter in charge. “You’ll never get to New York!” boasted the prisoner. But Tom did not let this threat worry him. Making a hurried explanation to the police captain in charge of the squad of officers, Tom saw the prisoner led away and then he took his place again. “A narrow squeak, that,” commented Ned. “Just a little,” admitted Tom, with a smile. “And now for the last lap.” The _Falcon_ roared her way into the air amid the cheers of the throng, and the final stage of the journey was begun. At first it was feared lest some hidden defect might develop in the motor. But none did, the machinery working perfectly. “They didn’t get a chance this time,” Tom decided. “And from the fact that Schlump tried so desperately at the last minute to disable us with a bomb, shows, I think, that they have fired their last shot.” But there was danger still in store for the daring aviator and his friends. They had made exceptionally good time from Chicago and were approaching the Long Island field. Tom was jubilant, for the record showed the best time yet made. “There’s the field!” cried Ned, from the after cockpit where he was helping manage the plane. Tom had decided, as was his right, to pilot the last stage of the journey himself. “You’re right!” admitted the young inventor as he gave a glance downward. “And there’s a big crowd on hand to welcome us.” As they swung around into the wind, a puff of smoke was seen to arise from the hangar. “Look at that!” cried Ned. “Fire!” exclaimed Tom. “They may be trying to burn the place!” Lower and lower the machine dropped, and those aboard could see the men in charge of the hangar making frantic signals for them not to drop too close to the big building. Tom heeded this advice, and swung down well away from the increasing volume of smoke. The _Falcon_ came to a stop, and the young inventor and Ned climbed out of the cockpit. “What’s going on?” cried Ned to some of the workmen. “Two masked men set the place on fire,” was the answer. “But we’ve caught them, and the fire will soon be out. We were afraid you would come too close.”