Sandy, who had been taught to fly by Tom and her father, was an enthusiastic pilot and often demonstrated the Pigeon Special to prospective customers.
“Thanks, Phyl.” The two girls became absorbed in their reading.
Meanwhile, Tom cleared away his electronic gear, and placed the repelatron model with which
36 THE RACE TO THE MOON
he had been experimenting on a rack suspended from the ceiling.
“Be back in a jiffy,” he told the girls. “I have to make arrangements for the plane we’ll fly to Fearing.”
Several minutes went by, then a voice crackled out over the public-address speaker on the wall:
“This is Tom, girls! The plane’s all set. Hurry over to Hangar F, so we can take off!”
Sandy and Phyl started to spring up eagerly from the laboratory stools. To the girls’ dismay, neither could move an inch!
“Sandy! What’s happened?” Phyl cried out. “I seem to be paralyzed!”
“So am I!” Sandy replied in distress. “Oh, Phyl, maybe something in this room-”
Suddenly Sandy broke off, and her frightened look gave way to a vexed expression.
“It’s Tom!” she explained. “I’ll bet he did this to get even with us for scolding him! Of all the mean tricks!”
Fuming, the girls were forced to sit and wait helplessly for someone to come and free them. Soon the door opened and Tom stuck his head in the laboratory.
His face was perfectly serious.
“Hey, come on, you two!” he urged. “What’s keeping you? Don’t you know we have a party date tonight?”
“Tom Swift!” Sandy exploded. “Will you please stop this funny business and let us go this instant!”
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