"I think it would," was the reply of the young inventor. "In fact, I am
thinking of making a smaller monoplane than any that have yet been
constructed, and yet one that will carry two persons. The hardest work
will be to make the engine light enough and still have it sufficiently
powerful to make over a hundred miles an hour, if necessary.

"A hundred miles an hour in a small monoplane! It isn't possible!" cried
the secretary.

"I'll make better time than that," said Tom quietly, and with not a
trace of boasting in his tones.

"Then you'll enter the meet?" asked Mr. Gunmore eagerly.

"Well, I'll think about it," promised Tom. "I'll let you know in a few
days. Meanwhile, I'll be thinking out the details for my new craft. I
have been going to build one ever since I got back, after having seen my
Red Cloud crushed in the ice cave. Now I think I had better begin active
work."

"I hope you will soon let me know," resumed the secretary. "I'm going to
put you down as a possible contestant for the ten-thousand-dollar prize.
That can do no harm, and I hope you win it. I trust--"

He paused suddenly, and listened. So did Tom Swift and his father, for
they all distinctly heard stealthy footsteps under the open windows of
the library.

"Some one is out there, listening," said Tom in low tones.