Doc Simpson took the piece of glass and sniffed the traces of liquid which still clung to it. “Definitely not,” he agreed. “Any idea what it might be?”
“Not sure yet, but I suspect it was some kind of explosive mixture containing an organic acid,” the chemist replied.
Mrs. Swift was stunned. Had one of Tom Sr.‘s or Tom Jr.‘s enemies done this? Her dismay increased when the laboratory reports proved that the chemist’s theory was correct.
Later, George Dilling called her at the infirmary. “We’ve traced that liquid, Mrs. Swift,” he reported. “The whole thing was an unfortunate mistake by a young stockroom helper. He got his orders mixed and filled one of the bottles with
100 THE RACE TO THE MOON
the wrong liquid. We’ll dismiss him, of course.” In spite of her concern over her friend’s injuries, Mrs. Swift said, “Please don’t do that. I’m sure the Newtons wouldn’t wish it, nor my husband, nor Tom. The boy must feel terrible about what happened. That is punishment enough.”
“You’re right-he’s all broken up,” Billing said. “He’s learned his lesson, and he’ll be mighty grateful if we let him stay on.”
“Then do!” Mrs. Swift urged.
Meanwhile, Tom’s passengers were thrilled as they cruised high above the earth’s atmosphere. Continents and oceans lay spread out below, while myriads of stars shone like steely points of light in the black space void all around them.
Mr. Newton put his hand on Tom’s shoulders as the youth sat in the pilot’s seat, manipulating the controls. “Tom, it’s hard to say which one of your inventions is the greatest,” he murmured, “but I honestly believe this outranks all the rest!”