in his seat, and beside him, in the other, was a large package.
Nearer and nearer came the monoplane. It began to descend, very gently, for well Tom Swift knew the danger of hitting the ground too hard with the cargo he carried.
He described a circle in the air to check his speed. Then, gently as a bird, he made a landing not far from the gun, the craft running easily over one of the few level places on the side of the hill. Tom yanked on the brake, and the iron-shod pieces of wood dug into the ground, checking the progress of the monoplane on its bicycle wheels.
"Have you got it, Tom?" yelled Ned.
"I have," was the answer of the young inventor as he leaped from his seat.
"Is it good powder?" asked the foreman, anxiously.
"I don't know," spoke Tom. "I didn't have time to look. I just rushed up to where I had stored it, got some out and came back with the motor at full speed. Ran into an airpocket, too, and I thought it was all up with me when I began to fall. But I managed to get out of it. Say, we're going to have it nip and tuck here to save the village."
"That's what!" agreed the foreman, as he helped Koku take the cans of explosive.
