A police officer in a white uniform dashed out to greet Tom and his companions.
After saluting smartly, he asked the Americans to wait at the airfield until officials from the Economic Ministry arrived to receive them.
“They have been notified by telephone of your landing and are on their way here,”
he added.
Twenty minutes later two cars stopped outside the Customs Building. Kwanu and some other officials stepped out.
“Welcome to Ngombia, Tom Swift!” Kwanu shook hands with the young inventor in African fashion, slapping palms together lightly. “I trust none of your men were kidnapped while you were awaiting us?” he added with a chuckle.
Tom flushed. “No, indeed, sir. And I apologize once again for the mistreatment your secretary suffered in my country.”
52 REPELATRON SKYWAY
“Please, say no more!” Kwanu raised his hand. “I should not have mentioned the matter. Our own security police have been investigating, but as yet have uncovered no clues.”
After introductions, the Americans were driven into Princetown. Tom and his party looked around with interest at the small but bustling African metropolis. Squalid huts and rickety old colonial buildings were giving way to houses and apartments of pink, yellow, and white concrete.
In the center of town, modernistic, glass-tiered office buildings were being erected.
Kwanu proudly pointed out the imposing law courts and gleaming new University of Ngombia.
“Your country is certainly developing fast,” Tom commented admiringly.
“The pace will be even faster when our two provinces are linked by highway,”