“Looks as if something is wrong with the pilot,” Tom replied, “but it’s hard to tell for sure from this angle.”
As soon as they could judge the approximate spot 71
72 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ATOMIC BLASTER
where the ship would land, the boys leaped into a jeep and speeded toward it.
Just as they reached the scene, the helicopter hit the ground with a jarring impact that almost buckled one of the landing-gear struts. In the the cabin was a single occupant, slumped over the controls.
A crash truck already had reached the spot. As the boys rushed to offer assistance, plants guards and other employees came running from all directions.
“Is he hurt badly?” Tom asked, as the crash crew lifted the pilot’s limp body out of the cabin.
A THREAT OF REVENGE 73
“Doesn’t seem to be hurt at all,” replied one of the men. “Maybe the jolt knocked him cold.”
By the time he was carried into the plant infirmary on a stretcher, the pilot showed signs of reviving. As they laid him on a cot, his eyes fluttered open.
He was a pale-faced, slightly built man in his early twenties. Tom did not recognize him as any local flier of his acquaintance.
After examining the pilot, the company doctor
74 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ATOMIC BLASTER
announced that he had suffered no broken bones or other injuries.
“What happened?” Tom asked the airman. “You gave us quite a scare.”
“Sorry,” he replied shakily. “I guess I must have blacked out at the controls. I-I was just flying along and next thing I knew they were carrying me in here on a stretcher.”