“Just wanted to show you my reflexes are still THE MYSTERIOUS CALLER 23
working.” Tom chuckled. “Now sit down and entertain me with your witty conversation.”
The three friends were talking and laughing about other things and for the moment Tom’s harrowing experience was completely forgotten.
“Good thing no reporter is taking this down for the Enterprises Journal,” Bud remarked. “He’d think we came out here for a lowbrow gag session instead of a scientific project.”
“What’s the Enterprises Journal?” Ted inquired.
“A new magazine our company’s putting out,” Tom explained. “It’ll be mainly a technical journal, with papers contributed by our research staff and engineers, but there’ll be other features too.”
“And a real eye-catching cover,” Bud boasted. “Sandy designed it. Only trouble is”-he pretended to shake his head in disgust-“I’m afraid the inside may spoil all the good-looking art work.”
“How come?” asked Ted with a puzzled look.
“Oh, the technical stuff isn’t so bad, but there’s one article that’ll really make the readers turn blue. It’s chockful of Greek-letter formulas and Einstein equations by some long-haired fogy named Tom Swift Jr.”
The next moment Bud ducked as Tom let fly another pillow. “Just for that I’ll make you write it!” Tom vowed.
At this point a nurse looked into the room and stared sternly at the three youths. “Visiting time
24 SPACE SOLARTRON
is up,” she announced. “The patient must get proper rest.”
“Right.” Bud nodded gravely. “I’m sorry to say, Nurse, the patient seems to be getting feverish. Better slip him a double dose of your worst-tasting medicine!”