Mr. Swift replied quietly, “It has always been the policy of my company to extend leave with full pay to any man involved in family stress. You say that no trace of your twin brother, Raymond, has been found. This naturally worries you.
Why don’t you take a vacation?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Swift,” replied the atomic scientist. “My work comes first.
Things are at a critical stage here. I cannot shirk my part in it because of personal troubles.”
152 TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT ROBOT
There was further conversation but Robert Turnbull made it quite clear that he would not accept a vacation. He turned and left the room.
“Well, you have to give him A for loyalty,” Tom remarked, then told his father of his plans to leave. “I’m sure that there won’t be any trouble setting the other drone planes in flight when they arrive.”
Mr. Swift smiled. “I’ll feel a lot safer when they’re at work, Tom. By the way, if you’re satisfied with the tunnel, we’ll line it with cement and put in the Tomasite-coated door to the basement.”
“Everything’s to specification, Dad. And I’ll see you again in about two weeks.”
“Fine, son,” Mr. Swift said, clapping Tom on the back, “and in the meantime we’ll try to track down the interference inside the plant that made Stan Lee topple over. Then, when you return, we can put the giant robots right to work.”
The trip back to Shopton was uneventful. Tom and Sandy had dinner with their mother and spent the evening with her. Tom learned that Pins Zoltan had left the hospital and was in police custody. He had been subjected to intense questioning for over forty-eight hours by the police department’s top crime probers, but had not cracked. There was no word on either Flash Ludens or Slick Steck. And Marco too was still unaccounted for.