"I protest! I protest!" cried the Frenchman, above the explosions of
his motor. "Ze wind is too strong for me!"

Mr. Sharp said nothing, but, with a queer smile on his face he sent
the airship down toward the earth. A moment later he was directly
under the monoplane. Then, quickly rising, he fairly caught the
Frenchman's machine on top of a square platform of the gas container,
the bicycle wheels of the monoplane resting on the flat surface. And,
so swiftly did the Red Cloud fly along that it carried the monoplane
with it, to the chagrin of the French navigator.

"A trick! A trick!" he cried. "Eet is not fair!"

Then, dropping down, Mr. Sharp allowed the monoplane to proceed under
its own power, while he raced on to the finish mark, winning, of
course, by a large margin.

"Ha! A trick! I race you to-morrow and again to-morrow!" cried the
beaten Frenchman as he alighted.

"No, thanks," answered Tom. "We've had enough. I guess charity will be
satisfied."

The little Frenchman was a good loser, and paid over the money, which
was given to the Blakeville Hospital, the institution receiving it
gladly.

At the request of the carnival committee, Mr. Sharp and Tom gave an
exhibition of high and long flights the next day, and created no