Tom said he was sure they would be searched-at least partially.
“I don’t want the pirates to get hold of my two special pocket pencils-the soldering iron and the two-way radio,” he said. “Suppose you hide the radio in one of your shoes, Bud, and I’ll put the iron in mine. Even if we limp a little, it may not be noticed.”
The transfer was made quickly. Then Tom surfaced the jetmarine, threw open the hatch and climbed out, his hands in the air. Bud followed. Alongside the jetmarine was a launch containing Dansitt and three other men, whom the young pirate identified as Wesman, Chilcote, and Jennig. Wesman took charge of the submarine.
“So you’re our prisoners!” Dansitt gloated. “And you’ll wish our men had never been captured. Funny how the false rumor got around that Tom Swift was a genius!” he added sarcastically.
As he ordered Tom and Bud into the boat, Jennig, portly and unctuous, pointed to Chilcote and said, “Here’s the real genius!”
“Never mind that,” Tom said. “Where are my father and Mr. Foster?”
“You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?” Dansitt sneered. “Well, when you’re locked up, maybe we’ll tell you.”
After Tom and Bud were seated in the craft, Chilcote snapped handcuffs on them. Jennig started the motor and proceeded toward shore When they were a few feet from land, Chilcote 186 TOM SWIFT AND HIS JETMARINE
pulled an odd-looking key from his pocket. When Bud saw it, his jaw dropped. “An electronic key!” he cried involuntarily.
The scientist smiled. “I always regarded this special electronic key as a fine invention of Tom Swift’s,” he said. “That’s why I borrowed the idea. Despite your careful screening, one of my spies got a job at your plant and stayed just long enough to copy the design for me.”