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108 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ATOMIC BLASTER
A few minutes before twelve, the phone rang. Everyone jumped but Tom.
The young inventor’s face was grim and expressionless as he took the call.
“Hello? … Oh, yes, Mayor Drummond… . They did, eh? Well, thanks very much for your support… . Sure thing… . Good-by, sir.”
There was dead silence as Tom hung up the phone. For a moment he rubbed his hand over his eyes, and his shoulders seemed to droop.
Finally Bud spoke. “Thumbs down?”
To everybody’s surprise, Tom looked up with a grin of relief.
“Thumbs up, pal! They just voted to let us continue digging!”
With the sudden release of tension, everyone began laughing and talking at once, as they gathered around to clap Tom on the back and offer congratulations. But Tom knew the real test was just beginning.
Within twenty-four hours, the bomb damage to the blaster had been repaired, and the digging was resumed. This time, there were few spectators on hand. And the ones who did appear were tight-lipped and unfriendly.
Results of the first day’s work, nevertheless, were highly encouraging, and by the end of a full week of operations, the mid-point of the tunnel had been reached.
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Now the tide of public opinion in Shopton began to turn in Tom’s favor. As work continued on the opposite half of the tube, more and more onlookers were showing up every morning.
On the day scheduled for the final break-through, a civic ceremony was staged at Pine Hill. On hand were the mayor and the rest of the Town Council.
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