“Are you going to sail all the way to Africa—­across the ocean—­in her?” asked Mr. Durban, in somewhat apprehensive tones.

“Oh, no,” replied Tom.  “I believe she would be capable of taking us across the ocean, but there is no need of running any unnecessary risks.  I want to get her safely to Africa, and have her do stunts in elephant land.”

“Then what are your plans?” asked the hunter.

“We’ll put her together here,” said Tom, “give her a good try-out to see that she works well, and then pack her up for shipment to the African coast by steamer.  We’ll go on the same ship, and when we arrive we’ll put the Black Hawk together again, and set sail for the interior.”

“Good idea,” commented Mr. Durban.  “Now, if you’ve no objections, I’m going to do a little practice with the electric rifle.”

“Go ahead,” assented Tom.  “There comes Ned Newton; he’ll be glad of a chance for a few shots while I work on this new propeller motor.  It just doesn’t suit me.”

The bank clerk, who had arranged to go to Africa with Tom, was seen advancing toward the aeroplane shed.  In his hand Ned held a paper, and as he saw Tom he called out: 

“Have you heard the news?”

“What news?” inquired the young inventor.

“About Andy Foger.  He and his aeroplane are lost!”

“Lost!” cried Tom, for in spite of the mean way the bully had treated him our hero did not wish him any harm.

“Well, not exactly lost,” went on Ned, as he held out the paper to Tom, “but he and his sky-craft have disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“Yes.  You know he and that German, Mr. Landbacher, went over to Europe to give some aviation exhibitions.  Well, I see by this paper that they went to Egypt, and were doing a high-flying stunt there, when a gale sprang up, they lost control of the aeroplane and it was swept out of sight.”

“In which direction; out to sea?”

“No, toward the interior of Africa.”

“Toward the interior of Africa!” cried Tom.  “And that’s where we’re going in a couple of weeks.  Andy in Africa!”

“’Maybe we’ll see him there,” suggested Ned.

“Well, I certainly hope we do not!” exclaimed Tom, as he turned back to his work, with an undefinable sense of fear in his heart.

CHAPTER VII

THE BLACK HAWK FLIES

It was with no little surprise that the news of the plight that was said to have befallen Andy Foger was received by Tom and his associates.  The newspaper had quite an account of the affair, and, even allowing the usual discount for the press dispatches, it looked as if the former bully was in rather distressing circumstances.

“He won’t have to be carried very far into Africa to be in a bad country,” said the old hunter.  “Of course, some parts of the continent are all right, and for me, I like it all, where there’s hunting to be had.  But I guess your young friend Foger won’t care for it.”