"It--it--er--bur-r-r-r! It's--it's mighty ticklish, Massa Tom-dat's
de word--it suah am mighty ticklish!"

Tom Swift laughed and increased the speed. The Butterfly darted
forward like some hummingbird about to launch itself upon a flower,
and, indeed, the revolutions of the propeller were not unlike the
vibrations of the wings of that marvelous little creature.

"Now for some corkscrew twists!" cried the young inventor. "Here we
go, Rad!"

With that he began a series of intricate evolutions, making figures
of eight, spirals, curves, sudden dips and long swings. It was
masterwork in handling a monoplane, but Eradicate

Sampson, as he sat crouched in the seat, gripping the uprights until
his hands ached, was in no condition to appreciate it. Gradually,
however, as he saw that the craft remained up in the air, and showed
no signs of falling, the fears of the colored man left him. He sat
up straighter.

"Don't you like it, Rad?" cried Tom.

This time the answer came with more decision.

"It suah am great, Massa Tom! I'm--I'm beginnin' t' like it. Whoop!
I guess I do like it! Now if some of dem stuck-up coons could see
me--"

"They'd think YOU were stuck up; eh, Rad? Stuck up in the air!"