“Of course, others at the dinner may have overheard it. I’ll try to find out and let you know.”
Ames continued his probe. When he reported to Tom later, he looked disgusted.
“The story came from some white big-game hunter who’d just flown out of Ngombia,”
Ames said. “Nobody got his name. He claimed to have heard about it from natives.”
“A phony probably.” Tom scowled thoughtfully. “Sounds to me like another move by our unknown enemy, Harlan.”
“Sure-to make Swift Enterprises look ridiculous,” Ames agreed. “If our scientific reputation were smeared, the Ngombian government might not want to entrust us with the highway project. Good thing you killed the story, skipper.”
“I still think the leak must have come from Macklin’s setup,” Tom mused. “What do you know about Macklin, by the way?”
Ames shrugged. “Not much. He got his start in the South African gold fields. Pretty hard-boiled, they say, but a very smooth and efficient manager. I’ll keep checking on him.”
At noon Ned Newton came over from the construction plant to discuss the highway project with the Swifts and to hear Tom’s report on his African survey trip.
“If atomicars won’t do, what’s the answer?”
SENSATIONAL NEWS 93
Mr. Newton asked when Tom concluded the report.
“So far, I don’t have an answer, Uncle Ned. But somehow we must find a way to shortcut the usual highway-construction methods. Otherwise, I don’t see how we can beat Burlow’s bid.”
The telephone rang. Tom answered and the caller turned out to be his sister Sandy.
“Dr. Livingstone, I presume?” she said with a giggle. “Phyl and I were just wondering if we could snag you two African explorers for a dance at the Shopton Yacht Club tomorrow night.”