“I must admit you had us pretty worried, son,” Tom Sr. confessed.
Mrs. Swift, Phyl, and the Newtons were still looking somewhat pale and shaken.
Tom grinned apologetically. “I’m sorry, folks, but there was really no danger.”
“No danger!” Mr. Newton burst out. “Good heavens, boy! You might have been killed if the
78 TRIPHIBIAN ATOMICAR
repelatron-force ray from your anticrash device hadn’t stopped that truck!”
“Not really, Uncle Ned,” Tom replied. “You see, I had Bud call the airfield control tower and
TOM TAKES A DARE
79
tell them to keep their big repelatron trained on the truck every second. If the anticrash device hadn’t worked, the tower operator would have blasted the truck off the track!”
When the relieved laughter subsided, Mrs. Swift murmured, “In that case, Tom dear, we forgive you.”
News interviews and floods of queries asking how soon the atomicar would be placed on the market kept Tom busy for the next few days.
On Thursday came a surprising telegram, inviting Mr. Swift and Tom to spend a week end at
80 TRIPHIBIAN ATOMICAR
a hunting lodge in the Adirondacks. It was signed “Asa Provard.”
“That’s the banker Ed told us about, Dad!” Tom said, after reading the wire.
“Hmm. I can’t accept, since I’ll be flying to Washington on that new rocket project,” Mr. Swift said thoughtfully. “Why don’t you and Bud go along and see what’s on this fellow’s mind?”
“Okay. What can we lose?”
Late Friday afternoon, Tom and Bud drove out on the Enterprises airfield.
Shortly afterward, as prearranged, Provard’s private plane arrived to pick them up. The sleek twin-engined craft landed and a red-haired figure stepped out to meet them.