"What are you going to do?"
"Some spirals. I think that will let us down easier, but the craft is likely to tilt a bit, so hold on."
The young inventor shifted the movable planes and rudder, and, a moment later, the Butterfly swung violently around, like a polo pony taking a sudden turn after the ball. Mr. Damon slid to one side of his seat, and made a frantic grab for one of the upright supports.
"I made too short a turn!" cried Tom, easing off the craft, which righted itself in an instant. "The air currents fooled me."
Under his skillful guidance, the monoplane was soon slowly approaching the earth in a series of graceful curves. It was under perfect control, and a smile of relief came on the face of the young inventor. Seeing it Mr. Damon took courage, and his hands, which had grasped the uprights with such firmness that his knuckles showed white with the strain, were now removed. He sat easily in his seat.
"We're all right now," declared Tom. "I'll take a couple of forward glides now, and we'll land."
He sent the machine straight ahead. It gathered speed in an instant. Then, with an upward tilt it was slackened, almost as if brakes had been
