"I suppose Andy Foger will enter his boat," commented Ned.
"Naturally," agreed Tom. "It's a racer, and he'll probably think
it can beat anything on the lake. But if he doesn't manage his
motor differently, it won't."
The distance from Sandport to Shopton had been more than half
covered at noon, when the travelers ate a lunch in the boat. Mr.
Swift was looking anxiously ahead to catch the first glimpse of
his dock and Tom was adjusting the machinery as finely as he dared
to get out of it the maximum speed.
Ned Newton, who happened to be gazing aloft, wondering at the
perfect beauty of the blue sky after the storm, uttered a sudden
exclamation. Then he arose and pointed at some object in the air.
"Look!" he cried, "A balloon! It must have gone up from some
fair."
Tom and his father looked upward. High in the air, almost over
their heads, was an immense balloon. It was of the hot-air
variety, such as performers use in which to make ascensions from
fair grounds and circuses, and below it dangled a trapeze, upon
which could be observed a man, only he looked more like a doll
than a human being.
"I shouldn't like to be as high as that," remarked Ned.
"I would," answered Tom as he slowed down the engine the better to
watch the balloon.
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