CHAPTER V
A HUNCH PAYS OFF
DISMAYED, Tom and Bud stared at each other. Apparently the enemy ship had blanked out their radio communication to all points except the mystery plane.
“Who are you and what do you want?” Tom said into his microphone.
The voice replied crisply, “You’ll find out when the time comes!”
Tom flicked off his mike and exchanged another worried glance with Bud.
“We seem to be in a spot, pal!”
“And how! Especially if that crate’s armed!” Bud muttered. “But what are they after?”
Tom shrugged. “The space plants maybe-or possibly our jet.”
“Might even be us they want,” Bud said. “Got any tricks under your magician’s hat?”
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A HUNCH PAYS OFF 51
Tom’s brain was already racing to figure a way out. Suddenly he snapped his fingers. “Hey! I almost forgot!” he exclaimed. “Look in the locker, Bud, and see if we have the radio set that neutralizes all interference!”
Bud’s face brightened. “Now you’re talking!”
The set had been perfected during Tom’s Cosmic Astronauts adventure, in defense against an Oriental enemy’s jamming-wave generator. Bud found it in the locker, dragged it out joyfully, and plugged it into the power supply.
Meanwhile, the mystery jet had banked in a wide circle and headed west. As Tom stalled for time, it swooped back again and the same voice came snarling over the speaker.
“I warned you to follow us! Or would you prefer to be shot down?”
As if to back up the threat, a burst of tracer fire grazed Tom’s plane.
He hastily switched on his mike. “Okay, hold your fire! I guess we have no choice!”
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