“Like for instance?”
“Well, the neutrons are charged in the high
118 THE RACE TO THE MOON
velocity plasma and can’t be held back.” Tom faltered. “I souped it up with a small hydrogen reactor, but the fusion got out of control and overdrove the tweeter. So now I am trying to fix it by adding a compensator and a cathode follower.”
As Tom continued, he could hardly stifle his mirth and keep a straight face.
Finally Warturo pretended to be satisfied. “Okay. Now inhale this, you lowbrow egghead!” he ordered, thrusting the vial under Tom’s nose.
Tom pretended to be overcome by the drug. He swayed and staggered forward, then collapsed limply to the floor. As he lay there, quaking with silent mirth, Warturo crawled out the window. He climbed down a light, collapsible metal ladder which he had placed against the side of the house.
Tom waited for several moments, then cautiously pulled himself to his feet, out of range of the window. He stood behind the drapes, well out of the moonlight so as not to be visible, and peered out.
A man was standing on the roadway, beyond the hedge which bordered the grounds of the Swifts’ residence. He was Warturo. His back was turned to the house, as though he was waiting to be picked up.
Suddenly a car roared into view. Instead of slowing down, it sped past, striking Warturo with its right fender, and knocking him to the side of the road! It roared off.
THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR 119
Tom was horrified. His first inclination was to dash out of the house and help the unconscious counterspy, who lay without moving, perhaps seriously injured.
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