“Thanks a million!” Tom panted, and Bud echoed his appreciation.
One of the crewmen grinned and said, “Looks like your Pigeon Special turned into a lame duck!”
“And we might have turned into fish bait if it hadn’t been for you fellows,” Bud replied.
The police launch started back to shore at moderate speed, with the plane bumping through the water behind them. A slender, distinguished-looking figure was waiting on the dock as they came alongside.
“Dad!” Tom cried.
“Thank goodness you boys are safe,” Mr. Swift greeted them. “The rescue squad recognized your plane’s identification number and radioed word to Enterprises. I got here as fast as I could.”
The two Swifts closely resembled each other, although Tom Jr. was slightly taller and lankier.
“What happened?” the elder Swift asked as the two boys jumped to the dock.
Tom explained how the repelatron’s force wave had failed. “The soil make-up in the next county
10 THE RACE TO THE MOON
must be different from the sample I used. Maybe the chemical fertilizer in the fields had something to do with it.”
“What about the plane’s engine?” “Conked out. The electromagnetic field around the repelatron must have shorted the ignition system.”
There was a tense look on Mr. Swift’s face. “This must not mean failure, Tom. You must perfect this new invention of yours in a hurry so you can make a flight soon. I’ve just heard from our space friends. They’re in trouble and need our help.”
CHAPTER II
SOS TO ENTERPRISES
A NEW and exciting message from space! Both Tom and Bud were eager to hear it.
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