“I figure on taking the detector up for a test about ten o’clock tomorrowwhat am I sayingI mean, this morning.”
“It’s today, all right!” Bud agreed as he rose slowly from his stool. “When I’m working on an invention with you, pal, I hardly know whether it’s today, tomorrow, or yesterday!”
Tom laughed. “Guess we’d better call it quits before we both start walking home in our sleep!”
As they started for the door, Tom suddenly stopped and grabbed Bud’s arm.
“Hey!” he almost yelled. “Of all things to for-get-”
66
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Bud groaned, sure that his friend had been struck with some new idea for improving the invention and would insist upon staying to complete it.
“Don’t worry,” said Tom. “I’m only going to call Roberts over here to watch this detector. You go ahead and wait for me in the car. Be with you in a second.”
He switched on the intercom.
“Calling Mr. Roberts. Please come to the optical lab at once. This is Tom.”
Two minutes later the custodian arrived somewhat out of breath.
“There’s a valuable piece of equipment here,” Tom told him. “I want it closely guarded.”
“A new invention, Tom?” Roberts asked, glancing at the black box. “You won’t have to worry. I’ll post one guard in this room and another outside the building.”
Tom grabbed his jacket and hastened off to join Bud. When they arrived at the Swift home a few minutes later, he hopped out of the car.
“See you at ten,” he called.
“Sure thing! Adios for now.”
Tom fell into a deep sleep, awakening only in time for a late breakfast. He hurried to the Enterprises plant, going straight to the underground office where he hoped to find his father. Mr. Swift looked up from the map of South America he had been studying.
“Well, son! Didn’t expect to see you awake till this afternoon. Did you stay up all night to work on that latest inspiration of yours?”
68 TOM SWIFT AND HIS FLYING LAB
“Yes, just about. But it was worth every minute of the time Bud and I spent, Dad!” Tom handed his father the rough plans from which he had worked. “The invention’s finishedready for its first test today.”
“Incredible!” Mr. Swift said with a smile. “It’s really a challenge to keep up with you these days, Tom.”
“Will you come over and have a look at my apparatus?”
Mr. Swift had already arisen from his chair and was striding eagerly toward the door. “Let’s go. You can brief me about the details on the way.”
By the time they reached the optical laboratory, Tom had given his father a concise description of his uranium detector.
“Sounds all right, in theory,” commented Mr. Swift, as one of the electronic keys opened the door. “However, it’s hard to believe that your detector can measure up to, let alone surpass, the Geiger counter that took the foremost inventors so many years to perfect.”
“I don’t blame you for being a bit doubtful, Dad, when I spent only a little over twelve hours working out mine. But I’ve been thinking about it for days.”
They were greeted by Roberts who said he had stood guard over the invention since the boys had left the laboratory.
“Thanks a lot.” Tom smiled appreciatively.
After Roberts had departed, Tom asked his father, who had been closely examining the black box, what he thought of it.
GHOSTLY PHOTOS 69
“Tom, I’m trying not to be overenthusiastic at this point,” Mr. Swift said, “but at first glance, I would say that this could very well be a revolutionary instrument for locating uranium.”
“Awfully glad to hear you say that,” Tom said, pleased by his father’s reaction.
“But we’ll know for sure pretty soon. Bud and I are going to try my detector in the cargo plane. Come with us, won’t you?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Fine. I’ll call the men at the outdoor hangar to warm up the engines. It’s nearly ten o’clock. Bud will be here any minute.”
“By the way,” his father said, after Tom had phoned the mechanics, “have you thought of a name for your detector yet?”
“Yes, I have, Dad. You might think it’s sentimental, but I’d like to honor our old friend Mr. Damon. I’ll never forget him and his wonderful philosophy. He taught me lots of interesting things before he passed on. I’d like to make this a sort of memorial to him.”
“That surely is a noble thought, Tom,” said Mr. Swift, recalling vividly the likable old gentleman who had encouraged him as a youth and had gone on many hazardous adventures with him.
“How does Damonscope sound to you?” Tom asked.
“Couldn’t be better, son.”
“I only hope it lives up to its name when we fly over the buried uranium.”
At that moment Bud arrived, his eyes bright after 70 TOM SWIFT AND HIS FLYING LAB
a few hours’ solid sleep. “I’m rarin’ to take off with the black box, skipper,” he announced cheerily to Tom. “Hello there, Mr. Swift.”
“Glad to see you’ve recuperated from that all-night session.” Mr. Swift smiled.
“We’re all set,” said Tom. “Dad’s going along. Also, our invention has been christened the Damonscope.”
“Say, that’s good. After that old Mr. Damon you’ve both been talking about so much!”
“That’s the idea, Bud. Let’s carry the Damonscope out to the airstrip.”
The two boys lifted the detector carefully, and accompanied by Mr. Swift, proceeded to the runway. The cargo plane had been rolled out and its engines were humming. Tom and Bud placed the Damonscope aboard, adjusting it so that its powerful lens protruded through an opening in the floor.
Bud went forward quickly and took his place at the controls. “Ready?” he called back.
“All set! Go ahead!” Tom answered. As the plane climbed skyward, he said to his father, “I want you to make the first test of the Damonscope.”
“I’d like that very much,” replied Mr. Swift.
Tom raised his voice. “Bud, you can take ‘er over the buried uranium now.”
“Roger, skipper. Here goes!” Climbing to ten thousand feet, Bud leveled off and then called through the intercom, “Ready? I’ll make a run over the spot.”
Mr. Swift pressed a button on the side of the
GHOSTLY PHOTOS 71
Damonscope and the camera began to whir quietly. Bud made several passes over the buried target.
“Okay now,” Tom said. “I can develop the film right in the Damonscope.”
Mr. Swift watched as excitedly as his son until the film was ready, then Tom held it up to the light. On the moving strip of celluloid, not quite dry, could be seen unmistakable evidence of exposure to ultraviolet fluorescence. It was most intense in the middle of the strip, indicating the instant when the camera had passed directly over the buried uranium.
“It works!” Tom cried.
Mr. Swift looked at his son in sincere admiration. “Congratulations, Tom!” he cried. Then with a chuckle he added, “To tell you the truth, I didn’t think it would workat least not without several major adjustments.”
When Bud was told the good news, he gave a whoop, followed by a mock salute. “My hat’s off to the young genius,” he said. “Well, there’s nothing to stop us now from beating the rebels to that South American uranium. When do we start?”
“As soon as possible,” Mr. Swift answered. “By the time Ripcord Hulse is ready for the test flight, the Flying Lab will be fully equipped.”
“If everything’s okay on the test,” Tom added, “it won’t take us long to get to Verano, Bud. Wait till you see how the Sky Queen burns up the miles.”
Bud landed and the Damonscope was put into a vault until it was ready to be installed in the big ship. Tom, his father, and Bud separated, in order 72 TOM SWIFT AND HIS FLYING LAB
to attend to their individual jobs. An hour later when Tom went to the office in the main building to phone Rip his father was there.
“I have news for you, son,” he said. “First, the Riverton police called. They have a good lead on that fellow who attacked you and stole the Skeeter.”
“That is news,” Tom replied. “Where is he?”
“They don’t know, but they said that at the time we were there he had a room near the auditorium, He moved out in a hurry.
“The other bit of news is a telegram from Sefior Ricardo. He’s sending a man named Jose Berg to work with us.”
“To work with us?” Tom repeated. “Why?”
“To brief us on our difficult task in South America,” Mr. Swift explained. “Also, Ricardo feels that we should become familiar with the terrain and the customs and the living conditions in Verano.”
Tom smiled. “A short course in Bapcho history, eh?”
His father said the visitor was due to arrive some time that day.
“Call your mother, Tom, and tell her we may bring Sefior Berg home to lunch,”