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Design Thinking

This design focused series publishes books aimed at helping Designers,

Design Researchers, Developers, and Storytellers understand what’s
happening on the leading edge of creativity. Today’s designers are being
asked to invent new paradigms and approaches every day – they need
the freshest thinking and techniques. This series challenges creative
minds to design bigger.
More information about this series at https://​www.​springer.​com/​
series/​15933
Yu Zhang and Mathias Funk

Coding Art
The Four Steps to Creative Programming with the
Processing Language
1st ed.
Yu Zhang
Eindhoven, The Netherlands

Mathias Funk
Eindhoven, The Netherlands

Any source code or other supplementary material referenced by the

author in this book is available to readers on GitHub via the book’s
product page, located at www.​apress.​com/​978-1-4842-6263-4. For
more detailed information, please visit http://​www.​apress.​com/​
source-code.

Design Thinking
ISBN 978-1-4842-6263-4 e-ISBN 978-1-4842-6264-1
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4842-6264-1

© Yu Zhang, Mathias Funk 2021

This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved by the

Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned,
specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations,
recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other
physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval,
electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar
methodology now known or hereafter developed.

The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks,

service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the
absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the
relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general
use.

The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the
advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate
at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the
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Acknowledgments
We started this book in October 2018 and went through the process of
writing for several months, ending with an intensive summer writing
retreat at Tenjinyama Art Studio in Sapporo. We are grateful for the
hospitality and kindness of Mami Odai and her team, and we will
always remember these weeks on the hill with the wind rushing
through the dark trees.
From October 2019, we sent out the manuscript to reviewers, and
we would like to acknowledge their hard work and sincerely thank
them for great feedback and suggestions, warm-hearted
encouragement, and praise: Loe Feijs (Eindhoven University of
Technology), Jia Han (Sony Shanghai Creative Center), Garyfalia Pitsaki
(3quarters.design), Bart Hengeveld (Eindhoven University of
Technology), Joep Elderman (BMD Studio), Ansgar Silies (independent
artist), and Rung-Huei Liang (National Taiwan University of Science and
Technology). Without you, the book would not have been as clear and
rich. We also thank the great team at Apress, Natalie and Jessica, and
especially Bin Yu for his excellent technical review. Finally, we deeply
appreciate the support from friends and family for this project.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1:​Introduction
1.​1 Coding art
1.​2 Motivation
1.​2.​1 How to talk with a “machine”
1.​2.​2 Practice a practice
1.​2.​3 Do it and own it
1.​3 How to read this book
1.​3.​1 Calling all creatives
1.​3.​2 Four steps, one example, one zoom
1.​3.​3 Getting ready
Part I: Creative coding
Chapter 2:​Idea to visuals
2.​1 Visual elements
2.​1.​1 Shapes
2.​1.​2 Shaping up in Processing
2.​1.​3 Colors, transparency, and filters
2.​1.​4 Working with form and texture
2.​2 Canvas secrets
2.​2.​1 Scaling visual elements
2.​2.​2 Resetting or restoring the canvas
2.​2.​3 Rotation and translation
2.​3 Animation:​From frames to motion
2.​3.​1 Animation basics
2.​3.​2 Simple movement
2.​3.​3 Rhythm in motion
 2.​4 Interaction as input for animation
2.​4.​1 Combining mouse presses and movement
2.​5 Summary
Chapter 3:​Composition and structure
3.​1 Data and code structure
3.​1.​1 Creating many things
3.​1.​2 Controlling many things
3.​2 Visual structure
3.​2.​1 Composition and alignment
3.​2.​2 Composing with layers
3.​2.​3 Controlling layers
3.​3 Summary
Chapter 4:​Refinement and depth
4.​1 Randomness and noise
4.​1.​1 Working with randomness
4.​1.​2 Controlling randomness
4.​1.​3 Selecting and making choices with randomness
4.​1.​4 Working with noise
4.​2 MemoryDot
4.​2.​1 Smoothing
4.​2.​2 Smoothly working with many things
4.​3 Using computed values
4.​3.​1 Computing values with functions
4.​3.​2 Interpolation
4.​3.​3 Interpolation with functions
4.​4 Interactivity
 4.​4.​1 Mouse interaction
4.​4.​2 Keyboard interaction
4.​4.​3 Other input
4.​5 Summary
Chapter 5:​Completion and production
5.​1 Making things big for print
5.​1.​1 High-resolution rendering
5.​1.​2 Migrating to scalable version
5.​1.​3 Rendering snapshots of dynamic work
5.​2 A backstage for control
5.​2.​1 Tweak mode in Processing
5.​2.​2 Centralizing control with variables
5.​2.​3 “Backstaging” with the keyboard
5.​3 More stable and less risky code
5.​3.​1 The right things in the right place
5.​3.​2 Avoiding resource bloat
5.​3.​3 Code structure
5.​3.​4 Don’t reinvent the wheel
5.​4 Testing before deployment
5.​4.​1 Depending on dependencies
5.​4.​2 Anticipating differences
5.​4.​3 Preparing for unattended operation
5.​5 Moving to mobile
5.​5.​1 Structure of mobile Processing content
5.​5.​2 From Processing to p5.​js
5.​5.​3 Fine-tuning the presentation
 5.​5.​4 How to spot errors?​
5.​5.​5 Deploying for mobile use
5.​6 Summary
Part II: An example: MOUNTROTHKO
Chapter 6:​Inspiration
6.​1 Context and starting point
6.​2 Concept and artwork
Chapter 7:​From idea to completion
7.​1 Idea to visuals
7.​2 Composition and structure
7.​2.​1 Composition:​The fog
7.​2.​2 Composition:​Creating the mountains
7.​2.​3 Structure:​Creating the particles
7.​3 Refinement and depth
7.​3.​1 Refinement:​Reshaping the particles
7.​3.​2 Depth:​Adding interaction
7.​4 Completion and production
7.​4.​1 Completion:​Installation in space
7.​4.​2 Production in print
7.​5 Summary
Part III: Coding practice
Chapter 8:​Dealing with problems
8.​1 Helping yourself
8.​1.​1 Error messages or nothing happens
8.​1.​2 Working with copy–paste
8.​1.​3 Reference documentation
 8.​1.​4 Searching for symptoms
8.​2 Getting help from others
8.​2.​1 Finding help
8.​2.​2 Asking the right questions right
8.​2.​3 Minimal working example
8.​3 Working with experts
8.​3.​1 How can experts help you?​
8.​3.​2 How to manage a project with experts?​
Chapter 9:​Learning path
9.​1 Going deeper into Processing
9.​1.​1 Challenges to pick
9.​1.​2 Building your own tool set
9.​1.​3 Sharing your tool set with others
9.​2 Different technologies
9.​2.​1 Enhancing Processing
9.​2.​2 Assessing feasibility
9.​2.​3 Moving away from Processing
Chapter 10:​Creative processes
10.​1 Two types of ideation
10.​1.​1 Concept-based ideation
10.​1.​2 Material-based ideation
10.​2 Using abstraction layers
10.​2.​1 First loop:​Behavior to output
10.​2.​2 Second loop:​Adding data
10.​2.​3 Third loop:​Adding input and interaction
10.​2.​4 Fourth loop:​Adding a backstage
 10.​2.​5 Creative processes with layers
Conclusion
Epilogue
References
Index
About the Authors
Yu Zhang
An artist by training, Yu Zhang finished her PhD in 2017 on the theory
and artistic practice of interactive technologies for public, large-scale
installations. She approaches visual art with mixed reality installations
and projections, sensor-based interactives, and computational arts. She
roots her artistic intent in the symbolism of Asian traditions and
transforms the artistic unpacking of drama and cultural signifiers into
experiences of interactivity and connectivity that ultimately bridge
artistic expression and audience experience. She uses systems design
toolkit, to realize a complex multifaceted experience playing with the
spatiotemporal context of the audience’s interaction with the
installations when digital and physical converge. Starting from
interactivity, she constructs layers of different connections between
artist, artwork, audience, and the environment to express how far such
connectivity can impact and reshape the structure and relations of
objects, space, and time within a dynamic audience experience. Apart
from her artistic research and practice, Yu’s teaching experiences cover
over ten years and a broad space including traditional classrooms and
design-led project-based learning activities.

Mathias Funk
is Associate Professor in the Future Everyday group in the Department
of Industrial Design at the Eindhoven University of Technology (TU/e).
He has a background in Computer Science and a PhD in Electrical
Engineering (from Eindhoven University of Technology). His research
interests include complex systems design, remote data collection,
systems for musical expression, and design tools such as domain-
specific languages and integrated development environments. In the
past, he has worked in research positions at ATR Japan, RWTH Aachen,
and he has been Visiting Researcher at Philips Consumer Lifestyle, the
Netherlands. He is also the co-founder of UXsuite, a high-tech spin-off
from Eindhoven University of Technology. He has years of experience in
software architecture and design, engineering of distributed systems,
and web technologies. Further areas of interest and practice are
domain-specific languages and code generation, sound and video
processing systems, and data and information visualization approaches.
He has been involved extensively in the business side of innovation, the
transfer of research to commercial products, and he loves to think
about a design’s real-world impact. As a teacher, he teaches various
technology-oriented courses in the Industrial Design curriculum about
designing with data and visualization approaches, systems design, and
technologies for connected products and systems. He is regularly
invited to give international workshops on large-scale interactive
systems, group music improvisation interfaces, and expressive
(musical) interaction. He has been an active musician for years and is
very interested in the intersection of music, art, and design in
particular.
About the Technical Reviewer
Bin Yu
received his MS in biomedical engineering from Northeastern
University, Shenyang, China, in 2012, and his PhD in industrial design
from the Eindhoven University of Technology, in 2018. He is currently a
Data Designer at Philips Design, the Netherlands, and specializes in
both human–computer interaction and data visualization.
© Yu Zhang, Mathias Funk 2021
Y. Zhang, M. Funk, Coding Art, Design Thinking
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4842-6264-1_1

1. Introduction
Yu Zhang1 and Mathias Funk1
(1) Eindhoven, The Netherlands

The art world is interwoven with technology and actually quite

innovative and playful. From cave paintings to the use of perspective,
novel colors, and lighting, to printing techniques and direct inclusion of
machines and code, there are examples of how art broke ground and
changed its shape forever. Already before the beginning of the twenty-
first century, artists used code and programmed machines to generate
art or even be part of it.
There are so many examples of technology in art. It is also
interesting to see the path of how it has grown in the past 70 years.
Famous examples are, for instance, of earlier pioneers in Computer Art
like Georg Nees, Michael Noll, Vera Molná r, and Frieder Nake who
brought the use of pseudo-randomness and algorithm about fractals
and recursion in code drawing. The young generation of artists like
Casey Reas, who is well-known for developing the Processing software,
extend artistic ideas through the programming language. Some artists
like Jared Tarbell introduce real data into art creation and connect the
complexity with the data availability. It is remarkable that for most of
their works, computer artists open the source code to the public, so we
can learn from them.
In this book, we want to make the point that the use of modern
technology and machines in creative work does not contradict “creative
expression.” Instead, if used well, technology can help creatives take
steps in new directions, think of new ideas, and ultimately discover
their ideal form of expression.
 Why data and information in art? The use of data can connect
artworks to the human body, signals from outer space, or contemporary
societal issues, important events happening all over the world. With
data streams, creative works can become “alive.” As they represent data
in visual or auditory forms, they comment on what is happening in the
world; they provide an alternative frame to news and noteworthy. They
can react and even create their own data as a response.
Why is interaction interesting for creatives? Interaction in an
artwork opens a channel for communication with individual viewers or
an entire audience. Interaction can make a work more immersive and
let viewers engage in new ways with the artist’s ideas. Some might
want to engage with art emotionally; some others prefer a more
rational approach. The creative is in charge of defining and also limiting
interactivity – from fully open access to careful limitations that
preserve the overall aesthetics and message of the work. Interaction
can help create multifaceted artworks that show different views on the
world, or even allow for exploration of unknown territory.
Using computation and code can help a creative express ideas
independent of medium and channel – the work is foremost conceptual
and can be rendered in any form susceptible to the viewer. So, when we
express an artistic concept in the form of code or machine instructions,
we can direct the machine to produce its output in a number of ways:
print a rendered image on a postcard or t-shirt, project an animation
onto a building, or make an expressive interaction accessible from a
single screen or for a global audience on the Internet. By disconnecting
from physical matter, we create ephemeral art that might even change
hands and be changed by others.
Ultimately, technology transforms what it is applied to. We show
you how to do this with creativity.

1.1 Coding art

What is “coding art” all about? The title is intentionally ambiguous,
ranging in meaning from how to code art to coding as creative
expression. Probably the message that resonates most with you is
somewhere in the middle.
 Tips We are curious what you think during or after reading and
working with this book. Please let us know on our website.1

In this book, “coding” simply means an action that translates meaning

from one language into another, for example, from natural language
into a computer language. This translation, as any translation, implies a
change in who can and will interpret what we express in the new
language. It also implies thinking about how this interpretation might
work out toward a result. For natural languages, we empathize with
other people, how they think and act. For machines, we need something
called “computational thinking” [3, 6, 21].
Learning how to code is quite similar to learning how to speak
another language. Some people might follow a more theoretical
approach and learn vocabulary and grammar before attempting to
speak and converse. Some others start with a conversation and
gradually understand the structure of the language behind it.
Depending on the circumstances, any approach might work well.
For teaching how to code in a computer or programming language,
both approaches have been used in the past. There are very theoretical
ways to approach coding. They often come with a steep learning curve
and the full richness of what the language creators intend you to know
about it. And there are also ways to playfully get used to simple
examples that teach the basics before moving to more complicated
examples. In the context of creative work, we strongly feel that the
second approach, starting with the “conversation,” works far better.
However, we have seen in practice that the playful approach often hits a
limitation: how to make the step from toy examples to something that is
useful and also complex and intricate. This is hard and the reason why
we write this book.

1.2 Motivation
Every profession, every vocation, is about doing something difficult
with high quality, often using specific approaches or techniques. This
works for engineers, researchers, marketing, and doing business. For
creatives, the “difficult thing” is the invention of meaning and purpose
out of a large set of options, constraints, and relations. It is a very
human thing to create, which means we apply both our intuition and
our training and knowledge to a challenge. Creatives apply various
technologies in a creative process, and coding is a part of that. In this
book, the use of coding in creative work is based on the situation that
we try to construct meaning through understanding the logic and
structure of coding. We use coding as a creative tool rather than being
hardcore programmers or mere end users.

1.2.1 How to talk with a “machine”

Confronted with the particular but different characteristics of art,
design, and technology, we have seen creatives struggle with questions
about “how to start,” “how to continue,” and “how to end” while
working with code and coding practice. Like writing a book or essay, it
is difficult to code an idea in an individual context and condition, so that
a machine can produce something meaningful for us. Unlike writing,
the machine will respond swiftly to anything we feed it. It will never
complain about too much work and always accurately reflect what we
write in coded language. And when we get things wrong, make a
mistake, which happens more often than we are comfortable with, then
this is on us. The machine is a “stupid” thing, dull and rational.
Whatever creativity emerges is ours only. This book is essentially about
how to let the machine express and amplify our human creativity by
using precise instructions (“code”) and input (“data”).
For many creatives, the use of code in their projects brings new
challenges, beyond successfully completing a project. For example, an
unforeseen challenge is to let the work operate reliably for hours, days,
and weeks. With traditional “static” material, creative output eventually
turns into a stable form that rests in itself. Paper, photo, clay, concrete,
metal, video, or audio documentary are stable. There are established
ways to keep them safe and maintain their quality. If you want, you can
study this conservation craft as a university subject even.
Things are different for art or design based on code. Code always
needs a machine to run on, an environment to perform its function.
This essentially counteracts technological progress: there is always a
newer machine, a more modern operating system, a more powerful way
to program something. Any of these get in and code written for earlier
machines may stop working. This does not happen that easily to a
painting or a designed and manufactured object.

1.2.2 Practice a practice

When we write about “coding” as a practice, we try to combine the
creative process with computational thinking. Over the years, our art or
design students, inevitably, encounter similar problems. They often ask
questions like “why do we need to learn coding?”, “coding is so difficult
to continue once you are stuck, what is it worth?”, and “I could
understand the examples (from the programming software references)
well, but I cannot do my idea just by using those examples, how to do
that?”. These questions (or often passionate complaints) point at the
difficulty of learning coding as a new language. It seems that there is a
big disconnect of “brainy” coding from creative practice. There is a
common understanding that creative expression is fueled by
inspiration and directed by intuition. In contrast, “coding” or working
with technology seems to be very rational and thought through. Yes,
nice try. Creative coding is only slightly “brainy” at the beginning. Soon
after, it will turn into something intuitively creative and much faster
than learning to wield a brush and master the skills to paint.

1.2.3 Do it and own it

Before we can start, here is yet another big “why” question: even if
coding is an indispensable part of a creative project, why do artists or
designers need to do the code themselves? Cooperative skills are basic
for any contemporary artist and designer. Although there are cases of
successful international artists who command a multidisciplinary team
to work on their ideas, these people are absolutely not the norm. More
realistically, we see creatives who cannot afford a team of qualified
experts and who work on smaller budgets and projects. Our point in
this book is: without understanding coding and technology to some
extent, it will be very difficult to work with experts productively or get
help when you run into problems. The point about creative technology
is: you want something? Then do it and own it.
We are aware that creatives who are learning or exploring
interactive art, digital art, and new media art are no longer just
following one traditional approach. Instead, they need to work with
their ideas from a broader perspective – in the principles of science,
technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM). When we move into
the field where art meets code, creatives may need a new way of
thinking and working which can help them see this new field through
the lens of an old field where they have been active in and professional
at.
In projects where code is involved, you as the creative need the
ability to read code, understand code, perhaps even write code, and
think in a computational structure. This is necessary for effectively
communicating with technology experts in a common “language.” We
think these are essential abilities creatives today need to have. Besides,
creatives who rely mostly on the help of experts often feel uncertain as
to how much control they have to relinquish to achieve the goal. We
actually have a section on working with technology experts towards the
end of the book.

1.3 How to read this book

This book can be read in different ways, from different perspectives and
also with different pre-knowledge and backgrounds. It is hard to find a
common ground, but we hope that with patience and openness, you
will soon see our point.

1.3.1 Calling all creatives

First of all, this book is dedicated to creatives who might be designers,
artists, design or art students. We also wrote this book for architects,
engineers, and researchers. They all share that creativity makes their
profession special and their work unique. The creative will benefit
mostly by taking the main road from beginning to end, visiting all
examples and typing along. Why not bring this book to your favorite
café once a week and slowly make your way through the different
chapters. If you space it out over several weeks, you will see that the
breaks will spark new thoughts of how to code art and what you could
do yourself with the current week’s topic.
We also wrote this book for educators who could take a jump to the
last part first. There we explain more about the rationale behind the
concepts we introduce and our methodology. We show how everything
fits together, also from an educational point of view.
Third, this book is written for technical experts, who know it all
actually and who might be surprised by the simplicity of the code
examples. Why would they read this book? Because they realize that
knowing code as a second native language and being able to construct
the architecture of code is not enough, by far. The embedding of code in
a process, driven by creativity or business interests, is where the
challenges lie. As a technical expert, you will find the third part most
interesting and can use it as a lens to scan the first two parts.

1.3.2 Four steps, one example, one zoom

In the first main part of this book, we will go through a creative process
in four steps and explain how coding works in each step. The steps will
each unfold through several practical examples and conclude with a
short summary.
The first step, idea to visuals, gives you a short primer into working
with Processing and the different visual elements that are readily
available to you. We quickly proceed to working with the visual canvas
before diving into animation and interaction. From this point onward,
you know how to draw moving things on a canvas that might even
respond to your interactive control. The second step is about
composition and structure, that is, how we let art emerge from a
multitude of different elements on the canvas. We will introduce data
and code structure that help you in working with many visual elements
at the same time. Together, we apply this in several examples around
visual structure. In the third step, we show you how to work things out
in more detail and how to give depth to your creations. You will learn
about randomness and noise and how to control them artistically. We
show you how to create smooth animations and transitions between
different elements and colors. Interactivity returns in this step, and we
show you how to combine interactive input with composition and
refinement. The fourth step is about production, how to bring your
creation to the stage, how to produce and present it well in different
media from high-resolution printing to interactive installations.
On the next page, we show an example that we created inspired by
an abstract geometrical painting of Kazimir Malevich (“Suprematisme,”
1915) as inspiration (Figure 1-1). We chose this work because, for us, it
visually hinted at a very interesting motion of otherwise static blocks
that seems to be captured in a moment just before toppling over. We
started with a recreation of the visual composition of ten basic
elements in similar primary colors on a cream-colored canvas (step 1).
In a second step, we connected to the impression of inherent motion
and work with the blocks: we shifted and redrew the same composition
recursively, adding more and more layers over time (step 2). The third
step involved adding three large-scale rotated copies of the
composition to complete the circular perspective. We also fine-tuned
the timing of adding the different elements and operations over time, so
the work developed in a few minutes from the first screen and visually
stabilized in the last screen. Finally, we added a gradual shift of the
entire canvas that, over several minutes, zoomed out and shifted the
center of the canvas from the left top to the right bottom (step 3). In the
fourth step, we “produce” the images that you see: we let the animation
play and live select tens of frames to be automatically rendered. From
these frames, we finally select eight frames as they exhibit good
composition individually and also show the motion of the entire work
well (step 4).
This example shows how we borrow from the four large steps
described in this book, by picking a few pieces from each step that
match our concept. From a process point of view, steps 1, 3, and 4 were
relatively straightforward. We took more time for the second step
because we went into two different directions, one more playful and
one more technical, of which the playful was the right one at the end
after trying both. Only after resolving this, we could move faster again.
There are chances that you will struggle as well while working with this
book; don’t forget to take breaks and never let go.
Figure 1-1 Example of generative art taking an abstract geometrical painting of
Kazimir Malevich (“Suprematisme,” 1915) as inspiration
Throughout these four steps, we will teach you about creative
computation, and, at some point, you will see also bits of strategies,
patterns, and more complex concepts appear. Afterward, we will roll up
all steps in a larger art project, MOUNTROTHKO, in the second part of
this book. Finally, in the third part, we zoom out and turn toward the
practice of creative coding, through learning and collaboration. This
part shows you how you can make progress using this book and
beyond, what you can do when you feel stuck, and how to get help. It’s
all there, you just need to go step by step toward it.

1.3.3 Getting ready

This book contains a lot of examples, and they are written in code
(“source code”). Most examples can be used directly, and the resulting
visual output is shown close to the source code.

Code examples // How to quickly find code

examples in the book?

Look for text in a box like this!

All source code listed in this book is written in the open source
software Processing. Processing itself is available from
https://processing.org, and we recommend that you install it
on your computer to get the most out of this book. Processing is a
medium for understanding the structure and logic of code. We will
explain this shortly. The code examples are available online from our
Processing library.2 Although it might be tempting to just download the
examples and play with them, we recommend typing them yourself (at
least some of them). This way, you will pick up the programming style
much faster and allow your muscle memory to support your learning.
And if you are lucky, you will make a few small mistakes that give you
surprising results.
Finally, we will address you, the reader, informally. Think of this
book as a conversation in your favorite café over coffee and your laptop
is right in front of you. Feel free to pause the conversation and dive into
a topic on your own, or explore the code of the examples, and then
resume to the next page. Let’s begin.
Footnotes
1 https://codingart-book.com/feedback

2 The Processing library can be found here: https://codingart-

book.com/library. You can install it using the Processing library manager.
Part I
Creative coding
© Yu Zhang, Mathias Funk 2021
Y. Zhang, M. Funk, Coding Art, Design Thinking
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4842-6264-1_2

2. Idea to visuals
Yu Zhang1 and Mathias Funk1
(1) Eindhoven, The Netherlands

In this first part of the book, we will go through four process steps and
show for each step how coding becomes a meaningful part of our
creative process. In step 1, IDEA TO VISUALS, we take a bottom-up
approach and start directly with visuals and code. Our entry point to
this approach is to use code directly from the ideation stage of the
creative process. More specifically, instead of making mood boards,
sketching, writing, searching the web, or talking to experts, we suggest
that you just start Processing and give it a spin. First, we look at how we
can express our ideas using Processing and a few lines of code. Yes, we
start really simple.

2.1 Visual elements

For many artists, even if visual elements in their work are coded, the
standards for effectiveness in their work are still based on either
cognitive or aesthetic goals [12, 18, 20]. When we analyze any
drawings, paintings, sculptures, or designs, it is similar – we examine
and decompose them to see how they are put together to create the
overall effect of the work. Lines, colors, shapes, scale, form, and textures
are the general fundamental components of aesthetics and cognition
for both art and design and for coding art as well.
Processing can draw a wide range of different forms that result from
variation and combination of simple shapes. When you take an example
from the Processing reference, try to change the numbers in the
example to explore how the shape changes and responds to different
numbers.
The first two examples show that you can hit play in Processing as
often as you want and see how your work is evolving over time.
Sometimes, it is good to look at the results, just after changing a single
value. By moving fast between the code and the canvas, you will also
learn faster and get a better understanding of how the code influences
the drawing of shapes and how you can control precisely what is drawn
on the canvas. At the same time, by going through two detailed
examples, we want to give you a feeling for how important the
Processing reference is as well.
We recommend having a browser window open with the Processing
reference web page, so you can quickly jump into an explanation
without losing momentum in creating with Processing. First shapes
coming up, you have Processing started up and ready?

2.1.1 Shapes
Every visual element in Processing follows one of two patterns: (1) first
specifying position, then size, and then shape or (2) specifying the
points on which the shape is drawn. We will come back to this in a few
pages. By carefully looking through these examples about simple visual
elements, you will understand the similarities in the code for ellipse
and rectangle and also the similarities for line, point, curve, polygon,
and triangle.
Let’s start with a simple example based on the “ellipse” shape. Open
Processing and type in the following three lines of code to draw a
simple circle:

First drawing: a simple ellipse with a black border

// Draw a simple ellipse

noFill();
stroke(0, 0, 0);
ellipse(56, 46, 55, 55);

// Try copying and pasting the code several

times
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content Scribd suggests to you:
 The Hummer was comparatively easy to start. After the engine
had been turned over once or twice, with the accompanying coughs
and sighs, it started with a thundering roar that made the ground
throb. Tom let it run until it was well warmed up. Then, knowing it
would keep going at low speed without moving the plane, he
throttled the gas down, adjusted the spark, and signed for his helper
to leave.
“Now, Mary, I’m ready to hear your story,” he said as he walked
with his friend a short distance away from the Hummer.
“It’s a queer story,” said the girl. “And as soon as I heard it I
started to call you on the ’phone. I was just going to take down the
receiver when you called me.”
“When did you hear this—whatever it is?” asked Tom, who was
becoming more and more mystified by Mary’s evident concern.
“Just this morning,” she answered. “I was over in Mansburg
doing some early shopping with Kate Borden. Shopping always
makes me terribly hungry, as it does Kate, so about noon we went
into a small restaurant for lunch.”
“And I suppose you had mislaid your money and couldn’t pay,
and you had to blush and ask the manager to trust you, and now
you want to go there in the plane and settle your debts. Is that it?”
asked Tom, with a laugh.
“No, and if you make any more fun of me I sha’n’t tell you a
thing! So there, Tom Swift!” and Mary pouted bewitchingly.
“Mercy! I’ll be good!” he promised.
His sense of humor was rudely shaken a moment later as Mary
went on:
“While Kate and I were eating our lunch three men were eating
at the next table—eating and talking. We didn’t purposely listen—
that is, not until after I heard one of them mention the Swift
Construction Company. But then, as you can imagine, Tom, I was all
ears. I shamelessly listened after that, and though I didn’t hear all
that was said I caught enough to know that they were talking about
something like a tidal engine. Is there any such thing, Tom?”
“Is there, Mary? I should say there is! It’s one of my latest and
best inventions! I believe I can harness the ocean with it—at least, a
part of the tide. But go on—what did they say about the tidal
engine?”
“One of the men seemed angry that you hadn’t sold it to them.
He spoke of Mr. Damon and said it was too bad—or words to that
effect—that Mr. Damon’s negotiations had fallen through.”
“Go on,” urged Tom, as Mary hesitated a moment. “This is
interesting, and it may be vitally important. Go on!”
“Then they spoke something about mill machinery,” resumed the
girl. “I couldn’t get that very plainly—I don’t know much about
mechanics—but they spoke of a turbine grinder. Is that right?”
“That’s right!” exclaimed Tom. “But it will be all wrong if they get
on to any of my plans in that respect. I’m mighty glad you listened
to this talk, Mary! Who were the men—I mean what did they look
like?”
“I’ll describe them to you as well as I can. I had never seen any
of them before, as far as I know. The whole trend of the
conversation was to the effect that they had tried unsuccessfully,
through Mr. Damon, to get you or your father to sell them some or
all of the rights in these inventions. Is that the case?”
“Yes. Mr. Damon came to me some time ago—the day he landed
on the roof in his little plane—and wanted me to consider
negotiations. But I sent word by him to these fellows, who were
represented by Mr. Blythe, not to bother, for I wasn’t in the market.”
“I didn’t hear Mr. Blythe’s name mentioned,” said Mary, knitting
her forehead into a series of wrinkles as she tried to recall all the
details of the affair. “But there was some one whose name began
with B—let me see—I wrote it down.”
She fumbled in her pocket and brought out a slip of paper on
which she had written one word—Blodgett.
“That’s the man, Tom,” she said. “Mr. Blodgett. One of the three
who were talking near our table remarked: ‘Never mind. I think
Blodgett will fix it.’ Those were the words he used.”
“Hum,” mused Tom. “Blodgett—and he will fix it. Fix what, I
wonder?”
“That I can’t say,” answered Mary, for Tom had spoken aloud.
“Right after one of the men said that, all three went out. I didn’t
know what to do. I kept wishing you had been there. But I made up
my mind I’d tell you about it as soon as I could.”
“Yes, Mary. Thanks! I’m glad you did. It’s all a mystery to me.”
“What do you think it means?”
“That would be hard to say. I’ll have to admit I’m a bit worried
about it, in view of several things that have happened at the shop
lately.”
“Oh, Tom do you think there is any danger?”
“No more than usual. There’s always danger when you have
rivals. But I never heard of this Blodgett that I know of. As for the
other matters: As I said, Mr. Damon opened the subject but I told
him to head off any visit of the men to me, for I wouldn’t do
business with them. And from the fact that they haven’t called on
me, I took it that they had dropped the matter.”
“It doesn’t seem so, though, does it?” asked Mary.
“I should say not! I don’t like this at all!” Tom seemed anxious
and upset over the matter. “And what I particularly don’t like is the
way they said Blodgett would fix it. Is that the word they used?”
“Yes. It was ‘fix,’ I’m sure of it.”
“Smacks of desperation,” commented Tom. “I wonder if the
owner of the restaurant would know those men, Mary?”
“He might.”
“Then I’m going to drop in and have a talk with him. Give me the
address. Oh, I don’t mean I’m going to drop in off the Hummer and
let you run the machine alone,” he went on with a laugh, as he saw
Mary’s momentary gasp of surprise. “I’ll go over and see him to-
morrow. Just now we’ll go for a ride. I need a little free breathing
space in the upper air.”
“Yes, it’s a wonderful day for a ride, Tom. And there’s no sign at
all of rain.”
“We need rain, too,” said the young inventor. “The woods and
fields are as dry as tinder. If a forest fire should start now it would
do a lot of damage. But as long as it hasn’t rained for some time,
we’ll hope it will hold off until we get back from our spin. Come on—
let’s go!”
 CHAPTER XI
A DOUBLE PERIL
With a roar the motor accepted the additional gas Tom turned
into the cylinders, and a moment later the little plane began to move
over the smooth surface of the field. Gathering speed, the Hummer
slowly rose as the young inventor depressed the horizontal rudder,
and a moment later up rose the machine like some creature of life—
up and up toward the clouds.
“This is glorious!” cried Mary, thrilled by the sensation. Riding in a
plane was not new to her, but she never failed to get a sense of
exhilaration out of even a short spin in the air.
“Not so bad,” answered Tom.
By raising their voices slightly they could make themselves
audible to one another, for, as the young man had said, there was a
silencer, or muffler, on his engine.
“It makes one forget all their trouble,” called out Mary, as she
looked over the side of the rear cockpit where she sat strapped in
and glanced down at the earth rapidly dropping away below them.
“Yes, it does,” assented Tom. “That’s one reason I wanted to
come out to-day—to get rid of some of the cobwebs.”
“And are they being brushed away?” asked Mary.
“Almost all gone!” he laughed, as he sent the Hummer up at a
little steeper angle to gain a higher altitude more quickly.
The two young people gave themselves up to the thrill and
revivifying influence of clear, pure, sunlit air. Deeply they breathed in
of the life-giving particles, and the cheeks of Tom and Mary were
ruddy with renewed health.
With no special object in view, they spun on through the air, now
going up until they were above some low-lying clouds and again
dipping down to view with pleasure the contour of some wonderful,
green valley.
“Getting tired, Mary?” called Tom, after a while.
 “No!” she called back to him. “I could go on like this forever.”
“Guess I’ll have to invent some new kind of machine if you want
to do anything like that,” the youth countered.
“What do you mean?” challenged Mary.
“I mean perpetual motion hasn’t yet been solved, and I don’t
believe it ever will be. As long as we have gasoline engines they will
have to be given a drink now and then. Which reminds me that I
haven’t enough in the tanks of the Hummer to go on for more than
a few hours more.”
“I don’t want to ride quite that long, of course! Don’t take any
chances. Go back now if you think anything is going to happen.”
“Nothing is likely to happen!” chuckled the young inventor. “But I
didn’t want you to go on dreaming that dream of yours about
keeping on forever.”
“As if I meant that!” laughed the girl. “Better turn back now.”
“In a little while,” promised Tom, whose eyes were just then fixed
on some object or some view just ahead. Mary was quick to notice
his preoccupation as he spoke to her and at once asked:
“Is anything the matter, Tom?”
“Matter? No! Why do you ask?”
“Because you weren’t thinking of what you were saying, that’s
all. I can always tell. Do you see anything?”
“To be perfectly frank, Mary, I do. I see a cloud of smoke over
there in the direction of Shopton, and when I see smoke I think of
fire. As we recently had a little blaze at one of the shops, I am a bit
anxious to see if this is another. Of course it will be as well fought
with me away as with me there. But still——”
“Oh, Tom, I see it, too!” cried the girl, as a little puff of smoke
made itself visible near a wooded part of the country. “Perhaps you’d
better head back that way.”
“I think I will,” decided the pilot.
He moved the steering wheel slightly, banked the plane a bit, and
was off in another direction, heading directly for the haze of smoke
which by this time had considerably increased in volume.
At the time when Tom first saw the smoke menace he was
several miles from it, though the clear air made the fire seem nearer
than it was. But the Hummer was a speedy craft, and she quickly
covered the distance.
As Tom Swift and Mary Nestor approached the blaze—for blaze it
was, since they could now notice a redness that betokened flames—
they could see it more plainly, and a sense of relief came to the
young man when he noted that it was in a spot remote from his
shops.
“Guess it’s a forest fire, Mary,” Tom observed. “I thought one
would break out soon, it’s been so dry.”
“I’ve never seen a forest fire,” she responded. “It must be very
thrilling.”
“It is—and dangerous,” replied Tom. “Well, you’re going to see
one now, for we’re going right over it.”
“Do you think it will be safe, Tom?”
“Why not? We’re so high you won’t even smell the smoke. And as
for the heat—well, they do get pretty warm, but you won’t feel that.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that so much,” Mary hastened to say. “But if
anything should happen to the plane——”
“Nothing is going to happen!” laughed Tom. “I’m going to give
you a real view of a forest fire.”
The smoke was rolling up in great clouds now. But of course the
Hummer was far above the conflagration. Nor could they hear the
crackling of flames, though this sound was audible to those fighting
the fire.
Men and boys were at work combating the forest fire. Tom and
Mary, from their vantage point high in the air, could note figures, like
ants or flies, hastening from the surrounding country toward the
scene of the blaze. Some were hastening up in autos, and others in
horse-drawn vehicles.
“What do they do when they fight forest fires?” asked Mary. “I
don’t see any engines.”
“Engines aren’t of much use—the fire is very seldom near a water
supply,” answered Tom. “The only thing to do is to take away the
stuff a fire feeds on—dry leaves, sticks, wood or anything else.
Sometimes they do this by digging up the ground or plowing it in
broad, bare strips.
 “Another way is to make a back fire. That is, they start some
distance off from the blaze and set fire to a limited area. When this
burns off, and of course it has to be kept under control, it leaves a
black space with no fuel for the fire to feed upon, and when the
original fire gets to the place it just naturally quits. They use wet
bags, pieces of carpet, anything to beat out the line of flames when
they actually fight the fire.”
“It must be hard work,” decided Mary.
“It is—hot, hard, dirty work. Well, we’ve got a pretty good view
of this fire now, and I must say I don’t like the looks of it,” remarked
Tom.
They were fairly over the burning area now. Below them were
the snapping, leaping flames and the billowing clouds of smoke.
More men and boys were hastening up to do what they could to
combat the conflagration.
“If there should only come a rain now it would settle the fate of
this fire,” remarked the young inventor.
Tom looked up and across the sky. It was blue in nearly every
quarter—too blue and beautiful to suit those who wanted water to
pour down from the heavens.
“There’s a little haze in the west,” remarked the lad, at length. “It
might indicate the coming of a thunderstorm. That’s what is needed
—a sudden, drenching thunderstorm. A gentle shower would help,
but a regular cloudburst is needed. Of course, a sizzling rain would
put the fire out in time, but it would take too long.”
“Oh, I do hope it rains!” exclaimed Mary.
Tom guided the Hummer over the very center of the fire, which
seemed to be burning in an area of forest and brush country several
miles square in extent. Of course in the very center of the blaze no
attempt was being made to fight it; that would have been too
dangerous. It was on the edges of the ever-increasing circle that the
men and boys were making the attack.
Dropping down a bit, so Mary could see better, Tom pointed out
where scores of the fire-fighters were trying to beat the flames to
earth with long-handled wet bundles of rags, which from time to
time they dipped in brooks and ponds.
 “It looks like a losing fight,” sighed the girl. “Oh, Tom, suppose
the fire reaches Shopton!”
“It won’t with the wind the way it holds now,” was the reply. “But
of course we’d all feel better with the fire out.”
He swung the machine around to take in another angle of the
fire.
“Isn’t there anything you can do, Tom?” asked Mary. “This is
terrible!”
Tom was himself wondering if he could not be of service instead
of merely looking on from his vantage point of safety in the air. He
had invented an aerial fire-fighting machine, but this, with its
chemical bombs, had been disposed of, and there was none on hand
at Shopton.
“I might drop some army bombs down and try to blow up a big,
bare area which would bring the fire to a stop,” said Tom. “But it
would take some time to get ready for that, and they may have it
out in a few hours. No, I’m afraid I can’t do anything just now. But
we had better——”
Tom was about to say he had better start back with Mary when,
with a suddenness that was startling, the motor of his plane went
dead and the machine began to drop toward the heart of the forest
fire.
“Oh, Tom!” cried Mary. “Don’t go down so close! It’s dangerous!”
 CHAPTER XII
A RING OF FIRE

Knowing little of the actual working of aeroplanes, Mary did not

realize what the stopping of the engine meant. She thought Tom had
simply shut it off, as he often did, so the noise would not interfere
with their hearing of what was going on below.
“Go on back up, Tom!” cried the girl. “I don’t want to go so
close.”
“I’m afraid there’s no help for it,” stated Tom grimly.
“What—what do you mean?”
“I mean the motor’s stopped. Something has gone wrong with it.
We’re making a forced landing. Goodness knows what the outcome
will be!” But Tom said the last to himself as he saw the forest fire
seemingly rushing nearer and nearer.
It looked as if he would crash down in the midst of the burning
trees.
“If there was only an open place to land it wouldn’t be so bad!”
desperately thought Tom. “I might be able to make it. But to crash
down into a lot of trees and bushes, and with those trees and
bushes on fire.”
Still he kept up a brave front for Mary’s sake. It was more on her
account that Tom was worrying than on his own. He felt that he
could take a chance and jump at the last minute, though he carried
no parachutes on this plane. But for Mary to leap was out of the
question.
“Oh, Tom!” she cried, “what is going to happen?”
For a moment the young inventor did not reply. Then a desperate
idea came into his mind. It was a big chance, but the only one, and
it must be taken.
Not far away was Lake Carlopa, a large sheet of water on which
Tom had tried out many of his marine ideas. If he could reach that
he might yet save himself and Mary, and, perchance, even the plane.
For though the Hummer was not equipped with pontoons for
alighting on water, yet the plunge into that element would be less
damaging to her than a crash to the ground.
“And there’ll be a chance for us, too,” thought Tom. “She’ll keep
afloat on her wings for a few seconds if she doesn’t go into a nose
dive. Yes, I’ll head for the lake.”
Desperately he tried to picture to himself the grounds
surrounding the lake. He was trying to decide whether there was a
field big enough in which to bring the Hummer to a regular gliding
landing. If there was, nothing more would happen than always
happened when an aeroplane landing is made.
But, as Tom recalled it, there were only scattered farms about
the lake, and none of these was suitable for a landing field. Adjacent
to the lake were picnic grounds, but these were covered with
scattered trees and buildings.
“The open lake is my only chance,” decided Tom. “But can I
reach it? That’s the question.”
He could see, shimmering in the sunlight ahead of him, Lake
Carlopa. But he also became aware that his machine was steadily
going down. He tried to figure out whether he could gain enough
horizontal distance in proportion to his vertical drop to make the
lake. And as he looked at the distance separating him from the body
of water, it was with a sinking sensation in his heart that he
answered himself in the negative.
“It can’t be done!” Tom told himself.
This being the case, he must pick out the next best expedient.
“We’ve got to crash, and soon,” he reasoned. “I’d better pick out
a big, soft tree. The upper branches will give a little and bring us up
gradually. A tree’s better than the ground with its underbrush.”
After her first spasm of terror Mary had become calm, and was
sitting tensely in her seat waiting for Tom to bring her out of the
danger.
It was not the first time she and the young inventor had been in
desperate plights, and always before this Tom had come out ahead
of the game in taking chances with death. Of course there could be
one last time, but Mary was not thinking of that.
“It looked as desperate as this on Earthquake Island,” she told
herself. “Yet we got off, thanks to Tom.”
All this while the Hummer had been gliding down on a long slant.
Mary realized, of course, that the longer and more gradual the slant,
or angle, at which the falling aeroplane approached the earth, the
better chance it had for making a gentle and safe landing. It is the
sudden nose dives, or tail spins, straight to earth that crash the
planes and kill the pilots.
Tom was saving his machine. He would let it glide swiftly down
for a short distance and then head it up, so it would nose toward the
sky. This would slacken its speed and also carry it further along.
But it was evident that he could never cross the wide area of the
burning forest and reach Lake Carlopa. That was out of the question.
The next best thing, as Tom had decided, was to land in some big
tree, the springing branches of which would act as a cushion.
“But I’ve got to pick out a spot where there isn’t any fire,” Tom
told himself.
There was, of course, a certain burning area of the forest fire.
Equally of course, there was not an even number of square miles
ablaze. The fire was irregular in shape, and there were portions,
perhaps a mile in extent each way, where the flames had not taken
hold. Also, because of the nature of the fuel on which it fed, the fire
advanced irregularly. The line of its advance was one that curved in
and out, so that there were indentations here and there like the
shore line of the sea, with bays of fire and points of woodland as yet
unburned.
To pick out one of these places was Tom’s desire, and as the
aeroplane glided nearer and nearer to the earth he knew that he
must soon make this decision.
“Oh, Tom, what are we going to do?” faltered Mary. The
suspense was telling on her. She could not quite fathom Tom’s
object.
“We’re going to land in that big pine tree,” he suddenly
exclaimed. “Hold your arms over your face, Mary, so you won’t be
scratched. Look out now—here we go!”
As Tom spoke he ducked down behind the protection cowl of the
cockpit in front of him, having a moment before adjusted the
steering lever so as to glide into the top of an immense pine tree
which stood in the midst of a clump of other giants of the forest, in a
space as yet untouched by fire.
A moment later the Hummer crashed—crashed with a thud, a
rending, a crackling, a splintering and tearing that went to Tom’s
heart, for the plane was almost like a live creature to him.
Even as the plane crashed, Tom knew that he had made the best
landing possible, and that, for the time at least, he and Mary were
safe.
As Tom had anticipated, the spreading branches of the great pine
tree acted as an immense cushion, and as the Hummer was a
comparatively small plane, she was buoyed up. That is, at least long
enough to take up the first shock.
In a few seconds Tom realized that he and Mary must make a
hasty exit from the plane, for it might slip from its position, and
portions of it drop on them as they slid from their seats.
The poor Hummer was badly broken. A plane cannot crash down
into a tree and not have something like that happen. They are not
built for that sort of thing. Tom realized this.
“Quick, Mary!” he called. “Unstrap yourself and I’ll help you climb
out and down. I don’t know how long this plane will stay here.”
Mary had recovered her nerve after the first shock of the crash
and as soon as she realized that neither of them was hurt beyond
more than bruises and a shaking up.
“I can get out myself,” she announced, as she loosed the strap
that held her to the cockpit seat. “And I can climb down out of the
tree, Tom. I’m glad I wore leather knickerbockers to-day.”
“So am I,” murmured the young inventor.
He had loosed himself in his seat and turned now to help Mary,
but of this there was little need, since she was capable of acting for
herself.
Several of the branches of the great pine had been broken off,
and the jagged ends were sticking through the frail wings and the
almost as frail fuselage of the plane. These branches thus held it in
place for a time, but it might slip down at any moment.
“How are you making it, Mary?” asked Tom, as he climbed out on
a branch.
“I’m all right,” she said. “This is fun—just climbing down out of a
tree,” and her laugh showed that her nerves were in good shape, for
which Tom was glad. But then, Mary Nestor never was the sort of
girl to go off in a faint. She was a brave girl, and that was why Tom
liked her so much.
Together the two made their way down out of the pine tree,
leaving the plane impaled on the branches over their heads.
“Poor Hummer!” murmured Tom, with more feeling than he cared
to show.
“Yes, and poor us, too, perhaps, Tom!” exclaimed Mary.
“Why, we’re all right!” he exclaimed, as they reached the ground.
“Hardly scratched.”
“Yes; but look! The fire! It’s all around us!”
Then Tom realized the peril he had all but forgotten—the peril of
flames. As Mary spoke, the fire, with a sudden burst, leaped a gap
hitherto open and the young people were in the midst of a raging
conflagration—blazing trees and bushes all about them!
 CHAPTER XIII
JUST IN TIME
Mary Nestor had borne up bravely during the previous trying
experiences. But the discovery that the fire was all about them
unnerved her and filled her with horror.
“Oh, Tom!” she cried wildly. “We’re doomed! If we only could
have stayed up in the air!”
“That couldn’t be done,” Tom said grimly. “We were lucky enough
to get down as we did without being hurt.”
“Yes, I know. But now, Tom, look!”
Shuddering, Mary pointed to the encircling and advancing flames.
As yet no clouds of smoke had blown their way, but it was only a
question of time when the choking, acrid fumes would almost
smother them—blind them.
“There must be some way out!” muttered the young inventor.
Desperately he scanned the ever-narrowing circle of fire about
him and Mary. What could be done?
Dry as the woods were for lack of rain, yet the trees and bushes
were green, and burned in a certain, slow way which alone might
prove the salvation of the two. Had this been fall, with a mantle of
dried leaves on the ground, the fire would have flashed through as
though igniting gunpowder. As it was, the closing in of the ring of
fire was gradual. This, at least, gave Tom a chance to search his
mind for some way out.
He gave a last despairing look up into the tree where hung the
wreck of the Hummer. Truly, if the crash had not destroyed the little
machine beyond hope of repair, the flames would soon finish her.
But Tom was not a youth to sigh long where it did no good. His chief
concern must now be to save Mary and himself.
“We’ve got to get out of this!” he cried. “It will soon be too hot
for us.”
 “But can we get out?” Mary’s lips were white, but she now had
control of herself.
“I think so,” Tom replied. “While it looks as though there was a
solid ring of fire about us, there must be breaks in it here and there
—places where there is comparatively bare ground, big rocks and so
on, that will make a passageway for us. We must try to find one of
these places, Mary. Now follow, but keep right behind me.”
Tom said this because he wanted to be prepared to save Mary
should a sheet of flame suddenly spout up in front of them.
“Wait a minute!” cried the girl, as Tom would have made a dash
toward a place where the smoke and fire seemed less dense and
fierce.
“What’s the matter?”
“Can’t we use these? Wrap them about our hands and faces in
case we get too near the fire?” asked Mary.
She pointed to two closely woven woolen blankets that had fallen
out of the forward cockpit of the Hummer. Tom had stowed these
away to be used on occasional trips when he went up to such an
altitude that it was very cold, and a blanket about his legs and those
of his passenger might add immeasurably to their comfort. With the
tilting of the plane the blankets had fallen out shortly after Tom and
Mary had climbed down from the tree.
“I’ve often read of persons wrapping their head in wet blankets
to pass through flames,” said the girl. “And these two are wet, Tom,
look, sopping wet.”
“Be careful they aren’t soaking in gasoline!” warned the young
man, as Mary picked up the coverings. “I guess that’s what
happened—the gas tank sprang a leak.”
Mary’s answer was to raise one edge of a blanket to her nose.
“It’s water!” she cried. “Not gasoline at all.”
“Good!” exclaimed Tom. “The radiator burst, of course, and
soaked them. Good enough, Mary. They will be just the thing to
protect our heads and faces. It’s mighty dangerous to breathe
smoke-laden air. Now we’ll have a better chance!”
He saw to it that Mary had the wetter blanket of the two, then,
with the coverings held in readiness to use should they approach too
near any flame, the two in such a desperate plight started in that
direction where the flames and smoke seemed least thick and
menacing.
All about the girl and the youth the fire was raging. There was no
difficulty now in hearing the crackling of the flames or the crash as
some big tree, burned through, fell in the path of the raging
element. Tom listened, thinking he might hear the shouts of the fire-
fighters, and it was his hope that they might come to the rescue.
Though there might have been men and boys near the two
imperiled ones, their presence could not make itself known above
the roar and crackle of the flames.
For a time it seemed as if Tom and Mary might win through to
safety by keeping on in the direction they first took. They went on
for some distance, now and then stopping to let what wind there
was blow aside a curtain of choking, blinding smoke.
So far had they progressed that Tom was on the point of calling:
“I think we’re going to make it, Mary!” when, almost as he spoke, a
curtain of smoke was swept aside and they saw a line of flame
directly in their path over which it was impossible to leap and
through which it was certain death to pass. Hitherto they had
jumped several little, low lines of fire, which were low because they
had little on which to feed.
But this ahead was part of the main blaze, and it needed only
one glance at it to tell Tom and his companion that further progress
was blocked in that direction.
“No go!” gasped Tom, shutting his eyes a moment to ease the
smart and burn caused by the smoke.
“I should say not!” agreed Mary. “Suppose you go down that way
and try a little to the left. It doesn’t seem quite so smoky there.”
Tom looked, and was of the same opinion.
“Better put the blanket over your head,” he told the girl. “It
seems to be getting hotter and more sparks are falling. They might
catch in your hair.”
The thickly woven blankets, wet as they were with water from
the broken engine radiator, would prove a good protection against
sparks.
 Accordingly, Mary threw hers over her head and Tom did likewise.
Then he dashed in the direction the girl had indicated. But they did
not get as far along this trail as they had on the other before they
were stopped by a wall of fire.
“Oh, dear!” sighed Mary. “What are we going to do?” She felt
helpless and almost hysterical, but for Tom’s sake, resolutely held
herself in control.
“Got to try some other direction!” gasped Tom, opening the
blanket around his face a little so he could breathe more freely.
“We’ve got to get out!”
Apparently, the only other course was to retreat and try the right,
thought Tom, since the left had proved impracticable. And it was this
decision—the only one possible under the circumstances—which
eventually saved them.
No sooner had Tom taken the lead and gone a few steps down
what seemed a fairly well defined path than he gave a shout of
exultation.
“What is it?” cried Mary. “Do you see a way out? I don’t. The
smoke seems thicker than ever!”
“It is,” Tom said. “But we’ll soon be all right. I know where I am
now. I know it by that big rock. A little way down this path is a cave.
It’s near a brook, and though the brook may be dried up, the cave
will make a place in which we can be safe from the fire. It’s always
damp in that cave. Besides, there’s nothing in it to burn. Come on,
Mary!”
“Are you sure you’re right, Tom? It looks worse than ever in that
direction!”
“Yes, I know where I am now,” he replied. “We’ll soon be all
right!”
Though Tom spoke positively, Mary had her doubts, especially as
it got hotter and smokier as they went down the path and the
crackle of the flames was louder.
But once Tom Swift had been in a certain place, he never forgot
it. He had an excellent sense of direction, and his memory had not
played him false on this occasion.
 Running along the edge of a tract of brambles and briars that
were beginning to burn fiercely and looking back to see that Mary
was following, Tom led the way down a little gulch. He seemed to be
going right into the heart of the flames, and had Mary not known
him as well as she did she might have feared to follow.
But she kept on, and a little later Tom came to a stop at the edge
of a black, yawning hole in the side of a hill.
“Here’s the place!” he cried. “And there’s the brook! Some water
in it, too, which is the best luck yet. We’ll have time to wet the
blankets and get a drink! My mouth is parched!”
Mary, too, suffered from thirst, but she had made up her mind
not to say anything about it for the present. Now, however, that
there was a chance to get a drink, the thirst seemed to rush upon
her irresistibly.
The fire had not yet reached the little gully, but the trees and
bushes on the top of the ridge beneath which extended the cave
were starting to burn.
“We’ll have a few seconds,” Tom remarked. “Come on down to
the brook.”
In spring, following the rains and the melting of snow, the brook
was of goodly size. Now it was much smaller, though Tom knew it
widened and deepened about half a mile farther down.
The two laved their hands and faces in the cooling water, drank
copiously of it, and then soaked their blankets well. Then, as a
fiercer crackling of flames than any yet warned them that the fire
was advancing, Tom cried:
“Come on!”
Up from the edge of the brook they ran and into the cool, dark
and friendly shelter of the cave. They reached it only just in time, for
they were no sooner inside than a shower of sparks and burning
brands, falling into some dry sticks, leaves and grass near the mouth
of the cavern, sent a sheet of flame directly across it.
“Now let the fire burn itself out—and it won’t take long at this
rate!” cried Tom, as he and Mary stood in comparative safety, free
from the menace of fire and out of that blinding, choking smoke.
Then, to Tom’s surprise, Mary burst out crying.
 CHAPTER XIV
A QUEER ATTACK
The young inventor, not much accustomed to tears, thought at
first that Mary had been hurt in some way, perhaps burned by a
flying brand.
“What is it? Tell me,” he urged, taking her in his arms as they
stood in the cool darkness and safety of the cave.
“I’m—I’m all right!” gasped Mary, looking up at him as well as
she could in the gloom.
“All right? Then, why are you crying?”
“Oh, it’s because—because I’m so glad we’re—we’re here—safe!”
sobbed the girl.
“Oh!” exclaimed Tom, but there was a great deal of meaning in
that one word. “Yes, I guess we’re all right,” he agreed.
He looked out of the cave. In front of it and on either side the
fire was burning fiercely. Another few seconds and neither he nor
Mary would have been able to get through that fierce, hot barrier.
But the flames could not eat their way into the cavern.
Then, as he and the girl stood there, thankfulness in their hearts
that they had thus come safely through two grave dangers, there
suddenly sounded a deep, booming, vibrating sound that seemed to
shake the earth about them.
“Dynamite!” cried Tom. “They’ve brought up explosives and are
blowing up patches to stop the flames. A good idea!”
“No, that isn’t dynamite,” said Mary. “Don’t you know thunder
when you hear it?”
“Thunder?” cried Tom Swift.
“Yes. It’s thundering! Don’t you remember, we saw signs of a
storm coming up in the west just before the aeroplane went dead?”
“That’s right. If it is thunder——”
A booming crash interrupted him. There was no doubt of it, a
heavy storm was pending.
 “The rain will put out the forest fire,” concluded Tom. “Then we
can get out of here and back home.”
“Home seems a long way off,” sighed Mary.
“We can make it pretty quickly by going down the brook,”
suggested Tom. “The brook always rises a short time after even a
little rain, for all the water in this section drains into it. I know where
there’s a boat hidden in the bushes not far from here, and we can
paddle down in that.”
“It sounds enticing,” returned Mary. “Oh, I look a fright, don’t I?”
she asked, with a nervous giggle. Having been in the cave a little
while, their eyes were more accustomed to the gloom and they
could see better.
“You do not!” emphatically cried Tom, which, of course, was the
right answer.
“It has been a wonderful experience,” she went on slowly. “Not
that I would care to repeat it—Oh, Tom!”
She suddenly gave a gasp of fear and covered her eyes with her
hands as a blinding flash of lightning seemed actually to shoot
through the cavern. It was followed a second later by a crash of
thunder which made even Tom Swift, used as he was to
experimenting with big guns, jump.
“Here comes the rain!” he cried.
At that moment the storm broke with almost tropical fury, the big
drops pelting down like hail on the burning trees, bushes and such
dry leaves as had accumulated from the previous fall.
“This will douse the blaze,” went on the young inventor.
Certainly, no forest fire could continue in the face of such odds as
a violent rain storm—and this storm was violent. Seldom had Tom
seen it rain so hard. He and Mary stood in the entrance to the cave
and watched the drops pelt down. They could observe the fire in
front of them die away, the blaze flickering out and then the smoke
ceasing.
“I guess those fire-fighters are glad of this!” observed Tom, as he
remembered the hardworking men and boys.
“Indeed, yes,” agreed Mary.
 For an hour or more the downpour continued, and every vestige
of the forest fire was extinguished when at last the muttering of the
thunder died away and the fierce glow of the lightning faded from
the blackened clouds.
Tom stepped outside the cave and looked about him. In the
distance he could hear the loud murmuring of the brook, now turned
into a good-sized stream.
“Come on, Mary,” he called. “It’s all over. We might as well start.
Your mother may be worried about you. I’ll find that boat and we’ll
soon be in Shopton.”
“Oh, I do wish I had a comb or something!” exclaimed the girl as
she emerged from the cavern, trying to pin her hair back to keep it
out of her eyes.
“You look fine!” declared Tom, and he really meant it.
“I can’t help it, anyhow,” Mary said, smiling slightly. “Thanks,
Tom.”
The boat was found where Tom knew it to be hidden—he had
used it on some of his excursions with Ned—and soon he and his
companion were riding in comparative comfort down the swift little
stream. They passed through a region where the forest fire had
eaten its devastating way, but now the danger was over, the rain
having soaked and drenched the woods.
In due time Tom and his companion reached the outskirts of
Shopton, and then, knowing Mary would like a little privacy, he went
to the nearest telephone and called a taxicab from the town garage.
It came out to get him and Mary, and a little later she was safe at
home.
“Oh, Mary! I’ve been so worried about you!” cried Mrs. Nestor.
“Where have you been?”
“Oh, aeroplaning, falling, climbing out of trees, forest-firing,
thunder and lightning, boating and floating—those are just a few of
our activities this afternoon,” replied Mary, with a little excited laugh.
“What does she mean, Tom?” asked the bewildered lady.
“Those are some of the things that happened to us,” the young
inventor said. “It isn’t a bit exaggerated. I suppose you heard about
the forest fire?”
 “Yes; and we were much worried for those in its path. But Mr.
Nestor said it wouldn’t come this way.”
“No, it was far enough off from you,” agreed Tom. “And it’s all
over now. Well, I think I’ll get back. I took this afternoon off as a
sort of rest and mental relaxation—and I got it!” he chuckled grimly.
“How is Mr. Newton’s case coming on, Tom?” asked Mrs. Nestor.
“We thought very well, but something curious turned up a few
days ago,” answered the young inventor, but not going into details.
“Mr. Plum and Mr. Newton are out of town now, running down some
evidence.”
At that moment the telephone rang, and Mr. Nestor, answering it,
exclaimed:
“Tom Swift? Yes, he’s here. Wait a minute and I’ll let you talk to
him. It’s for you, Tom,” he said, as he handed him the receiver.
“Hello!” called Tom into the instrument. Then he recognized his
father’s voice and was aware at once that something had happened.
“What’s that?” he cried. “An attack on you and Mrs. Baggert? Are
you hurt? I’ll be right over! Send Ned with the runabout! Yes, I’ll
come right away!”
There was an anxious look on his face as he hung up the receiver
and turned to his friends.
“What is it?” asked Mary. “Has anything happened?”
“Lots, apparently,” answered Tom, with a grim smile. “Just a little
while ago, while my father was alone, working in our office, he was
mysteriously attacked and momentarily knocked senseless. Mrs.
Baggert, too, was knocked down; and when Eradicate came to help
he was savagely set upon—not that it would take much to knock out
the poor old fellow.”
“Who did it?” cried Mr. Nestor.
“Is your father much hurt?” asked Mary.
“Dad doesn’t know who did it,” Tom answered. “He isn’t much
hurt, I’m glad to say, or he wouldn’t have been able to telephone. I
didn’t get a chance to ask him how Mrs. Baggert and Rad were, but
I don’t believe they’re in a serious condition or he would have told
me. It’s the mysteriousness of the attack and what it may mean that
alarms my father and, naturally, me also.”
 “Do you want me to go back with you, Tom?” asked Mr. Nestor. “I
may be able to help you.”
“Thank you, but I guess the worst is over. I’ll telephone back and
let you know how matters stand as soon as I find out myself. Ned
ought to be here in a little while if he has luck.”
“You mean if he isn’t smashed up hurrying here,” said Mary.
“Something like that—yes,” Tom answered.
Certainly, Ned got out of the electric runabout about all it was
capable of, for soon after Mr. Swift had telephoned the news of the
mysterious attack the honk of the machine was heard out front.
Bidding his friends good-bye, the young inventor was rushed to the
scene of the latest outrage on the part of his enemies.
That it was the work of some enemy, or enemies, Tom did not for
an instant doubt. It was not the first time those jealous of his
success had tried to wrest from him by unfair means the fruits of his
talents and toils.
“What’s it all about, Ned?” he asked his manager, as he was
rushed along in the electric car.
“Don’t know, Tom,” was the answer. “I had gone over to the
bank, and I was delayed a little while. As a matter of fact, I stopped
to hear some reports about the forest fire, for I was anxious about
you.
“When I got back I found the office in confusion, and Eradicate,
staggering about with a badly cut head, was telling some story
about a big red-haired man who had burst in on your father and had
tried to take some papers away from him. Mrs. Baggert, it seems,
had come over to the office to bring your father a glass of milk
which she thought he ought to have, and she tried to stop the
attack. But the rascal went for her, too.
“As soon as I got in your father, having in the meanwhile located
you at Mary’s house, sent me over to get you. That’s all I know
about it.”
“Is dad all right?”
“Yes—nothing serious. Though he’s greatly upset, and that isn’t
any too good for him. But he got only a slight blow on the head.”
 “And a man with red hair did it,” mused Tom. “Red hair! I don’t
know anybody with red hair who would be as desperate as all that.
This is getting mysterious!”
 CHAPTER XV
THE TRAP
The young inventor, followed by his manager and chum, hurried
into the house.
Tom found Dr. Clayton putting the finishing touches to the
dressing on a scalp wound Eradicate had sustained in the encounter.
In one corner of the room Mrs. Baggert, a bandage around one
hand, was endeavoring to get Mr. Swift to drink something from a
cup.
“I tell you I’m all right,” insisted the old inventor. “I don’t need
any catnip tea, my dear Mrs. Baggert!”
“But it will be good for your nerves. Won’t it, doctor?” asked the
solicitous housekeeper.
“I guess it won’t do him any harm,” was the noncommittal
answer. “There, Rad, now you’ll be all right,” he added. “You aren’t
as badly hurt as you thought.”
“Say, this looks like a first-line dressing station!” exclaimed Tom,
for a glance showed him that the situation was not as desperate as
it had at first seemed. No one was seriously hurt.
“Three casualties, but they can all get back on the firing line
soon,” announced Dr. Clayton, with a smile.
“Are you able to talk to me about it, Dad?” asked Tom.
“He should be in bed and taking hot catnip tea!” insisted Mrs.
Baggert.
“You ought to be in bed yourself, Mrs. Baggert!” returned Mr.
Swift in kindly tones. “That wound in your hand——”
“Pshaw! A mere scratch. I’ve done worse to myself lots of times
with a darning needle!” she replied. “And I do wish you’d take this
catnip tea!”
“I’m not a baby!” laughed Mr. Swift. “But, give it here!”
He had decided that this was the best way of getting rid of the
insistent and troubled housekeeper. He drank the concoction, making
rather a wry face over it, and then Mrs. Baggert, satisfied, went out
of the room.
“Now let’s have the story,” suggested Tom. “Start at the
beginning. Is Rad able to tell his part in it?” he inquired, as he
placed a chair for the aged colored man.
“I shore is!” was the emphatic answer. “An’ ef dat red-haired
rascal comes in yeah now I’ll lambaste him a good one—dat’s whut I
will!”
“Better go easy, Rad,” advised the doctor, who was putting away
the materials he had been using.
“It was this way, Tom—” said his father, and then, noticing the
rather disheveled condition of his son, he exclaimed: “Were you
attacked also?”
“No. I had a little trouble with the plane and had to sprint with a
forest fire,” was the easy answer. “I’m all right. Go on.”
Thereupon Mr. Swift related that he had been at work in a room
opening out of Tom’s main office on some figures Tom had asked
him to verify when a man suddenly entered and without warning
reached over the desk as if to grab the papers on which Mr. Swift
was working.
“I gave a yell and leaped at him,” said the aged inventor, “but he
struck me with something in his hand. I got dizzy and sank back in
my chair. Just then Eradicate, who was out in the hall, rushed in and
the man turned on him, giving poor Rad a blow that knocked him
down.
“What happened after that I don’t know, except that I saw, in a
daze, Mrs. Baggert enter the room and the man spring at her. Then I
must have fainted. When I came to myself I was being looked after
by Dr. Clayton. But I’m all right now. We must get after this rascal,
Tom.”
“Certainly we will, Dad. But who was he? What does he look like?
A red-haired man has been mentioned.”
“Yes, Tom, this fellow had closely-cropped red hair. I have never
seen him before that I know of.”
“Had you, Rad?” asked the youth.
 “No, Massa Tom. I was sweepin’ out in de hall an’ I had my back
to de do’. I didn’t see de fellah go in. But I heard yo’ pa yell, den I
bust in.”
“What happened then?” Tom wanted to know, while Ned made
notes in shorthand of the answers, so he and Tom could go over it
later.
“Well, de mostest whut happen is dat me an’ dat fellah come
togetha,” explained Rad. “I went fo’ to hit him, but he done hit me
fust! Golly, ef dey was ebber a time when I done wish fo’ dat giant,
it was den!”
“Do all the descriptions of this man tally?” asked Tom. “I mean
does Mrs. Baggert also say he was a stranger with red hair?”
“Yes,” answered Mr. Swift. “I questioned her about that before
you got here. The fellow surely had red hair cut close to his head.”
“Did he get away with anything?” asked Tom quickly. “I mean
any of our plans? What papers did you have out on the desk when
he burst in on you. Dad?”
“They were the plans of both the tidal engine and the mill
machinery that I was glancing over, you asked me to verify your
figures, you know,” was the answer. “But he didn’t get any.”
The excitement was extreme while it lasted, but it was over now.
Inquiries developed the fact that none of the employees in the office
had seen the mysterious red-haired stranger enter or leave.
He had been evolved out of thin air, it seemed, and had vanished
into the same element. That he had had his trouble for his pains was
evident, for a careful check-up showed that none of the tidal engine
papers was missing, nor had any of the mill machinery plans been
taken from Mr. Swift.
“How about my chest of stuff?” asked Tom anxiously.
“It’s all right,” his father informed him. “I looked at that as soon
as I felt able. It’s locked and still in place.”
“Good!” cried Tom. “And now we must get busy and solve this
mystery.”
Making sure that his father, Rad and Mrs. Baggert were really in
no danger, Tom took a bath to remove some of the grime of his
recent experiences and then sent a couple of his men over to the
pine tree in which the Hummer had lodged.
“I’m afraid the plane’s a goner,” Tom said. “But maybe you can
save part of her. The engine ought to be good, anyhow.”
This having been done, and as it was now late in the day, Tom
closed the office, first, however, arranging to have Koku take up his
sleeping quarters there to be on guard every night.
“If the red-haired chap returns, he’ll meet with a different
reception this time,” Tom said to Ned.
He and Ned made a careful check-up on all the incidents
connected with the attempted robbery and assault. They looked
about the place for clews, but found none of any moment. Nor could
any one be found who had seen the scoundrel make his way to Mr.
Swift’s room.
The young inventor had not forgotten what Mary had told him
about the conversation in the restaurant, and he called up the
proprietor on the telephone. But that individual could give him no
information concerning the fellows who had had their meal there.
It was natural that Tom’s mind should jump to the latest
acquisition to his working force—the man Barsky. Somewhat
suspicious of him from the first, and these suspicions added to by his
father’s ominous shake of the head and his expressed doubts of the
Russian, Tom decided to keep an eye on the fellow.
It was almost closing time in the shops when Dr. Clayton had
gone, leaving all his patients in good shape, and when Tom and Ned
had been informed as to the main points in the matter. With his
suspicions fermenting, Tom hurried over to the pattern shop.
It was with mingled feelings that he saw Barsky hard at work on
certain important models. Tom passed the fellow and spoke to him,
saying casually:
“It will soon be quitting time.”
“Eet matters not to me—hours,” replied the man in his strong
accent. “When I work I think not of time. I am of much interest in
my profession.”
“Yes, it’s a good thing to be so interested,” returned Tom dryly.
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