On behalf of the Rocket Commission I wish you a successful flight!”
As he turned away, Tom looked at Bud.
“Ready?”
“Check.”
The two boys shook hands with all the men and in return received pats on the back and wishes of Godspeed. Hank Sterling said, “Win that prize!” Arvid Hanson whispered, “Watch out for Rotzog. He’s not in the race, but he may still try to ruin you!”
Chow added, “Give my regards to them Martians an’ find out what they eat up there!”
“I’ll guard this island with my life while you’re gone, Tom,” Ames promised.
Tom and Bud now kissed Mrs. Newton, Phyl, Sandy, and Mrs. Swift good-by.
They all wished the adventurers well, but as Tom’s mother walked to the tracking platform he could see that she was trembling.
Tom bade his father farewell last of all. There was a long, firm handclasp as silent messages were con-166 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
veyed from the eyes of each. Finally Mr. Swift said: “I’m proud that you are carrying on my work so admirably.”
Tom and Bud entered the rocket and rode the conveyor belt to the pilot’s canopy. When the conveyor was removed, the openings through the center of each stage were sealed off one by one from the control cabin.
Tom now radioed to the radar tracking level. “Sweep a 360-degree circle with the dishes. We’re going up in less than a minute if all is clear. Pay attention to the high level. If there’s any danger it will strike above five hundred miles.”
“Okay!” Jones called back.
The battery of gleaming radar screens began moving in silent, fantastic patterns. For fifteen seconds they swept the skies in every direction.