CHAPTER One
The Prize Offer
"Is this Tom Swift, the inventor of several airships?"
The man who had rung the bell glanced at the youth who answered his
summons.
"Yes, I\'m Tom Swift," was the reply. "Did you wish to see me?"
"I do. I\'m Mr. James Gunmore, secretary of the Eagle Park Aviation
Association. I had some correspondence with you about a prize contest we
are going to hold. I believe--"
"Oh, yes, I remember now," and the young inventor smiled pleasantly
as he opened wider the door of his home. "Won\'t you come in? My father
will be glad to see you. He is as much interested in airships as I am." And
Tom led the way to the library, where the secretary of the aviation society
was soon seated in a big, comfortable leather chair.
"I thought we could do better, and perhaps come to some decision
more quickly, if I came to see you, than if we corresponded," went on Mr.
Gunmore. "I hope I haven\'t disturbed you at any of your inventions," and
the secretary smiled at the youth.
"No. I\'m through for to-day," replied Tom. "I\'m glad to see you. I
thought at first it was my chum, Ned Newton. He generally runs over in
the evening."
"Our society, as I wrote you, Mr. Swift, is planning to hold a very large
and important aviation meet at Eagle Park, which is a suburb of Westville,
New York State. We expect to have all the prominent \'bird-men\' there, to
compete for prizes, and your name was mentioned. I wrote to you, as you
doubtless recall, asking if you did not care to enter."
"And I think I wrote you that my big aeroplane-dirigible, the Red
Cloud, was destroyed in Alaska, during a recent trip we made to the caves
of ice there, after gold," replied Tom.