Better give
it up."
"I never will. I'll make it work, Dad!"
"I don't believe you will, Tom. This time you have bitten off
more than you can chew, to use a homely but expressive
statement."
"Well, Dad, we'll see," began Tom easily. "There she is, Ned,"
he went on. "Now, if you'll come around here . . ."
But Tom never finished that sentence, for at that moment there
came running into the airship shed an elderly, short, stout,
fussy gentleman, followed by an aged colored man. Both of them
seemed very much excited.
"Bless my socks, Tom!" cried the short, stout man. "There sure
is trouble!"
"I should say So, Massa Tom!" added the colored man. "I done
did prognosticate dat some day de combustible material of which
dat shed am composed would conflaggrate--"
"What's the matter?" interrupted Tom, jumping forward. "Speak
out! Eradicate! Mr. Damon, what is it?"
"The red shed!" cried the short little man. "The red shed, Tom!"
"It's on fire!" yelled the colored man.
"Great thunderclaps!" cried Tom. "Come on--everybody on the
job!" he yelled. "Koku, pull the alarm! If that red shed goes--"
Instantly the place was in confusion.
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