“What happened?” the chief of the fire crew asked, after making sure the danger was past.
“I’m not sure.” Tom shoved up his goggles and began poking among the scorched debris. “Oh-oh! Here’s the answer,” he announced a moment later.
“The electrical lead to my glass pyrometer rod must have shorted. There’s a kink here, where the insulation probably frayed.”
50 TRIPHIBIAN ATOMICAR
The men left. Then Tom repaired the damaged electrical lead and went back to work. That night, when Bud, Sandy, and Phyl returned from Taos, the four young people enjoyed a snack of hamburgers and milk in the laboratory. Bud scowled suspiciously after hearing of the blaze, and asked: “Did you say Flambo stayed in your office when you went out to rescue that sneaky secretary?”
Tom nodded.
“Then how do you know he wasn’t responsible for that electrical short?” Bud demanded. “He could have slipped into the lab while you were gone.”
Tom frowned. “It’s possible. But why should he?”
Nevertheless, before going to bed that night, Tom sent a radio message to Harlan Ames at Enterprises. He asked the security chief to check on both Flambo and Pan-Islamic Engineering Associates.
Some time after midnight, Tom was aroused by the telephone jangling on his bedside table. He groped sleepily for the instrument.
“Hello? … Tom Swift speaking.”
“This is Benn Garth in Taos,” said the voice at the other end of the line. “I just surprised a thief breaking into my studio. Thought I’d better let you know right away. He was that man with the turban who came here looking for you!”