The sender, Doc said, no doubt had hoped that the small amount of gas would dissipate before Tom’s body was discovered-thus leaving no clue to the mysterious cause of his death.
“Whew!” Tom was shaken by the news. “We should all be mighty thankful!” he murmured.
In Bud’s room Tom found the husky young flier impatient to be discharged from the infirmary.
“You ought to have some influence around here, genius boy,” Bud grumbled. “Can’t you arrange to get me turned loose?”
“Sorry, pal-not a chance.” Tom grinned, and
16 REPELATRON SKYWAY
pulled up a chair beside his friend. The two boys discussed the mystery of the devil doll for a few minutes, then Tom went on, “Seriously, Bud, I’m sorry you can’t come with me. I’m going to the airport to meet that Ngombian official.”
“Exactly who is he?” Bud asked.
“Name’s Kwanu. He’s the country’s Assistant Minister of Economic Development. I don’t know what sort of project they have in mind, but it may be something interesting.”
“Keep me posted.”
“Right. I think I’ll take an atomicar,” Tom added, “and give our visitor an aerial view of Shopton and the plant.”
Tom Swift’s unique atomicars were sleek, atomic-powered vehicles that could operate on land, sea, or in the air.
When Tom arrived at the airport terminal later, a man came rushing up to meet him.
“Are you Tom Swift Jr.?” he inquired. As the young inventor nodded, he went on hastily, “We’ve just had a call up in the airport manager’s office from Washington. There’s been a change of plans for that African official you were to meet.”
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