Appleton, Victor – Tom Swift Jr 22 – And His Repelatron Skyway

That evening, Tom and his companions had dinner with some of the mining company’s staff at Macklin’s palatial, palm-shaded villa. Macklin-looking like a British empire builder with his

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white dinner jacket and toothbrush mustache-inquired about Tom’s plans.

“Burlow Engineering is a highly experienced outfit,” Tom admitted. “Frankly, I doubt if I could better their bid on a regular highway.”

“How do you propose to tackle the project?”

“I still don’t know. I’d thought about some kind of atomicar transport system. But now that I’ve seen your mining operation, I doubt if a fleet of atomicars could handle your tonnage-and it wouldn’t help the tribesmen, either.”

Changing the subject, Tom mentioned the dino-saurlike animal Bud had seen. He also questioned his host about the stretch of dark, seething terrain. Macklin could offer no explanation of either mystery.

“The Ngombian jungle is so forbidding it has never been properly explored,” he told Tom.

After dinner, Tom took a stroll outdoors with his host to enjoy the cool of the evening. Nearby, the jungle loomed dark and green in the moonlight. Tom’s ears caught the beat of drums.

“The jungle telegraph,” Tom remarked curiously. “Can you understand what it’s saying, sir?”

Macklin listened. As the rhythmic beat continued, his face took on a startled look.

“That’s odd,” he murmured. “The drums are saying that a terrible fate awaits the young white juju man who has come to pierce the tabooed jungle. None must help him on fear of death!”