As Sandy left, Tom reached for the phone and contacted the underground hangar. He spoke to the foreman.
“Do you think that the rest of the bent interior ribs can be torn out and new ones fabricated in half the time listed on the original work order?” Tom asked.
He was told that only the spraying of Tomasite might cause some delay.
“I’ll have a couple of engineers from the high-polymer pilot plant come over to take care of that,” Tom promised.
“Then we’ll have the Queen ready in half the time,” the foreman assured him.
An hour later Sandy called back to report that 86 TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT ROBOT
both Mrs. Swift and Mrs. Newton had given consent to their daughters’
making the trip. Bud took the news of the impending jaunt with enthusiasm.
“I sure could use some of your buried gold, you old mesa pirate,” he said, settling in a chair in Tom’s office.
Tom laughed. “I’ll give you half of all we dig up, brother buccaneer.”
Presently the boys settled down to sober conversation. Bud had brought news that Pins Zoltan was greatly improved physically, but he was still sullen and uncommunicative. Nothing had been heard from the magician.
“We’re getting nowhere solving the mystery of the crows and the stolen relotrol,” he said.
“Maybe the gang has given up,” Tom suggested.
“Don’t be too sure,” his friend advised. “By the way, are there any newfangled security methods being used at the Citadel?”
“No, but Dad and I decided to set up a drone aircraft protective covering over the plant,” Tom told him. “With an air umbrella, we’ll feel a lot safer about all the secret equipment and the power housing. I’m taking a drone plane along on our trip for a test run.”