“Then why not give him the real stuff?” Bud suggested. “We can make sure it’ll never do him any good, once we get out of here!”
178 TRIPHIBIAN ATOMICAR
Tom shook his head. “In my opinion, that would be signing our own death warrants. Why would Wayne take a chance and let us live, once he has squeezed out all the information he wants?”
The logic of Tom’s words sank home with crushing force. Bud and Ed, gripped by despondency, fell silent. But Tom himself had no time for despair. His brain was working at top speed, seeking a way out of their dilemma.
Suddenly his eye lighted upon a tray of rubies which had evidently been stored in the lab for polishing and cutting.
“Hold it. fellows!” Tom said hopefully. “Maybe there’s another way to hold off Wayne and his cronies till help arrives!”
Even as he spoke, Tom’s message-bearing rocket streaked down through the sky toward the base camp. Crewmen shouted in alarm as the whining missile caught their attention. But it sailed to earth in a neat glide-the homing device having guided its flight perfectly.
“B-b-brand my galley smokestack, what is it?” Chow bellowed as he ran to the spot.
“A dud, maybe,” one crewman guessed.
“Not if it was fired here by the same rats who planted those land mines,” Slim Davis retorted. “More likely it’s booby-trapped!”
Arv, who had been one of the first to reach the rocket, scratched his jaw thoughtfully. “I’ll bet
THE RUBY WEAPON 179
you’re all wrong,” he muttered. “Ten to one it’s from the skipper’s space friends!”
His words drew an awed murmur of agreement. Months before, a missile from outer space had landed on the grounds of Swift Enterprises. It bore strange-looking symbols in a code which Tom and his father finally managed to translate.