“No.”
His father frowned. “It’s one thing to test an invention in the abstract and another to imitate an actual experience.”
78 TOM SWIFT AND HIS JETMARINE
“I’ll do it late tomorrow morning, Dad. Tonight I’ll check it.”
“Excuse me, folks,” said a deep voice from the open doorway, and Chow walked in. “I jest come to tell you my chuck wagon’s outside, itchin’ to feed you all.” The cook grinned. “If you won’t come an’ get your victuals, well, brand my charcoal stove, I’m forced to fetch it to you.”
He wheeled in a cart with several covered metal dishes kept warm over a flame and began to serve from them.
“I’d hate to starve, of course,” Tom said with a grin, “but I’d rather do that than be-eh, poisoned. What’s that funny colored stuff in the bowls?”
“Soup an’ it’s not-”
“Purple soup!” Tom exclaimed. “What did you put in it, iodine?”
Chow looked hurt. Then he appealed to Mr. Swift. “You know what it is, sir?”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” the older inventor replied.
“Well, brand my ole bean patch!” the cook said in amazement. “You jest taste that special o’ mine. It’s snappin’ turtle right from the Rio Grande stewed up with red cabbage.”
“Ugh! What a fate for a poor turtle!” Tom groaned.
Chow made no reply to this, and after a dark look from the Texan, Tom put his spoon into the concoction and tasted it.
“I can’t tell where the turtle stops snapping and the cabbage leaves,” he said, “but this is pretty good after all.”
ESCAPE SUITS 79
The cook grinned in relief but waited to watch father and son finish their portions. As he served the rest of the meal, Mr. Swift said: “Tom, I must go to Florida on business. I’ve put it off as long as I can. Do you recall my friend Mr. Foster down there?”