“Good name.” Tom grinned. “Well, I guess we’ve proved it works all right.
Let’s go back.”
He guided the plane around in a sweeping circle of the next county, then headed for Shopton. Suddenly the sleek two-seater gave a lurch and nosed downward.
“Hey, what happened?” Bud cried out.
6 THE RACE TO THE MOON
They were plummeting earthward!
One glance at the force dial showed that it had dropped close to zero.
“Something’s gone wrong with the repelatron,” Tom reported tensely. “I’ll switch over.”
With a flick of his fingers, he turned on the ignition and gunned the starter.
Nothing happened! Again he tried, with no result.
“The motor’s dead!” Tom exclaimed.
“Good night! You mean we’ve got no power at all?” Bud’s face turned pale.
“The repelatron is getting power. I can tell by the reading on the power meter,” Tom said quickly, putting the craft into a glide. “Must be the repelatron won’t work over this kind of soil.”
The young inventor maneuvered the plane’s control surfaces frantically.
Bud clutched his chair. “What do we do now-hit the silk?” he gulped, testing the straps on his parachute.
“Not yet. Let’s stick with it a while. We may have enough air speed to glide in.
I’ll try to bring her down on Lake Carlopa.”
The blue expanse of water which lay before them bordered the north edge of town. Tom tensely worked the stick and rudder pedals.
“Bud, call the police rescue squad at the head of the lake,” he urged. “Maybe they can send out a crash boat.”
A blare of static filled the cabin as Bud twirled the adjusting knobs on the radio. “Calling police rescue squad!” he cried. “Plane in trouble over SPLASH LANDING 7
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