TOM SWIFT AMONG THE FIRE FIGHTERS
OR
Battling with Flames from the Air

By
VICTOR APPLETON

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

    I  A BAD PLACE FOR A FIRE

   II  NO USE OF LIVING!

  III  TOM'S NEW IDEA

   IV  AN EXPERIMENT

    V  THE EXPLOSION

   VI  TOM IS WORRIED

  VII  A FORCED LANDING

 VIII  STRANGE TALK

   IX  SUSPICIONS

    X  ANOTHER ATTEMPT

   XI  THE BLAZING TREE

  XII  TOM IS LONESOME

 XIII  A SUCCESSFUL TEST

  XIV  OUT OF THE CLOUDS

   XV  COALS OF FIRE

  XVI  VIOLENT THREATS

 XVII  A TOWN BLAZE

XVIII  FINISHING TOUCHES

  XIX  ON THE TRAIL

   XX  A HEAVY LOAD

  XXI  THE LIGHT IN THE SKY

 XXII  TRAPPED

XXIII  TO THE RESCUE

 XXIV  A STRANGE DISCOVERY

  XXV  THE LIGHT OF DAY

TOM SWIFT AMONG THE FIRE FIGHTERS

CHAPTER I

A BAD PLACE FOR A FIRE

"IMPOSSIBLE, Ned! It can't be as much as that!"

"Well, you can prove the additions yourself, Tom, on one of the
adding machines. I've been over 'em twice, and get the same
result each time. There are the figures. They say figures don't
lie, though it doesn't follow that the opposite is true, for
those who do not stick closely to the truth do, sometimes,
figure. But there you have it; your financial statement for the
year," and Ned Newton, business manager for Tom Swift, the
talented young inventor, shoved a mass of papers across the table
to his friend and chum, as well as employer.

"It doesn't seem possible, Ned, that we have made as much as
that this past year. And this, as I understand it, doesn't
include what was taken from the wreck of the Pandora?"

Tom Swift looked questioningly at Ned Newton, who shook his
head in answer.

"You really didn't get anything to speak of out of your
undersea search, Tom," replied the young financial manager, "so I
didn't include it. But there's enough without that."

"I should say so!" exclaimed Tom. "Whew!" he whistled, "I
didn't think I was worth that much."

"Well, you've earned it, every cent, with the inventions of
yourself and your father."

"And I might add that we wouldn't have half we earn if it
wasn't for the shrewd way you look after us, Ned," said Tom, with
a warm smile at his friend. "I appreciate the way you manage our
affairs; for, though I have had some pretty good luck with my
searchlight, wizard camera, war tank and other contraptions, I
never would have been able to save any of the money they brought
in if it hadn't been for you."

"Well, that's what I'm here for," remarked Ned modestly.

"I appreciate that," began Tom Swift. "And I want to say,
Ned--"

But Tom did not say what he had started to. He broke off
suddenly, and seemed to be listening to some sound outside the
room of his home where he and his financial and business manager
were going over the year's statement and accounting.

Ned, too, in spite of the fact that he had been busy going over
figures, adding up long columns, checking statements, and giving
the results to Tom, had been aware, in the last five minutes, of
an ever-growing tumult in the street. At first it had been no
more than the passage along the thoroughfare of an unusual number
of pedestrians. Ned had accounted for it at first by the theory
that some moving picture theater had finished the first
performance and the people were hurrying home.

But after he had finished his financial labors and had handed
Tom the first of a series of statements to look over, the young
financial expert began to realize that there was no moving
picture house near Tom's home. Consequently the passing throngs
could not be accounted for in that way.

Yet the tumult of feet grew in the highway outside. Ned had
begun to wonder if there had been an attempted burglary, a fight,
or something like that, calling for police action, which had
gathered an unusual throng that warm, spring evening.

And then had come Tom's interruption of himself when he broke
off in the middle of a sentence to listen intently.

"What is it?" asked Ned.

"I thought I heard Rad or Koku moving around out there,"
murmured Tom. "It may be that my father is not feeling well and
wants to speak to me or that some one may have telephoned. I told
them not to disturb me while you and I were going over the
accounts. But if it is something of importance--"

Again Tom paused, for distinctly now in addition to the ever-
increasing sounds in the streets could be heard a shuffling and
talking in the hall just outside the door.

"G'wan 'way from heah now!" cried the voice of a colored man.

"It is Rad!" exclaimed Tom, meaning thereby Eradicate Sampson,
an aged but faithful colored servant. And then the voice of Rad,
as he was most often called, went on with:

"G'wan 'way! I'll tell Massa Tom!"

"Me tell! Big thing! Best for big man tell!" broke in another
voice; a deep, booming voice that could only proceed from a
powerfully built man.

"Koku!" exclaimed Tom, with a half comical look at Ned. "He and
Rad are at it again!"

Koku was a giant, literally, and he had attached himself to Tom
when the latter had made one of many perilous trips. So eager
were Eradicate and Koku to serve the young inventor that
frequently there were more or less good-natured clashes between
them to see who would have the honor.

The discussion and scuffle in the hall at length grew so
insistent that Tom, fearing the aged colored man might
accidentally be hurt by the giant Koku, opened the door. There
stood the two, each endeavoring to push away the other that the
victor might, it appeared, knock on the door. Of course Rad was
no match for Koku, but the giant, mindful of his great strength,
was not using all of it.

"Here! what does this mean?" cried Tom, rather more sternly
than he really meant. He had to pretend to be stern at times with
his old colored helper and the impulsive and powerful giant.
"What are you cutting up for outside my door when I told you I
must be quiet with Mr. Newton?"

"No can be quiet!" declared the giant. "Too much noise in
street--big crowds--much big!"

He spoke an English of his own, did Koku.

"What are the crowds doing?" asked Ned. "I thought we'd been
hearing an ever increasing tumult, Tom," he said to the young
inventor.

"Big crowds--'um go to see big--"

"Heah! Let me tell Massa Tom!" pleaded Rad. Poor Rad! He was
getting old and could not perform the services that once he had
so readily and efficiently done. Now he was eager to help Tom in
such small measure as carrying him a message. So it was with a
feeling of sadness that Tom heard the old man say again,