horror. But cheers and applause followed when the audience saw how the ray curtain repelled them from danger.
“We are breathless with admiration!” Kwanu told the Swifts and Mr. Newton later.
“The credit belongs entirely to my son, sir,” Mr. Swift replied. Tom reddened at their praise.
After studying the proposed contract for the jungle skyway, Kwanu promised to transmit it to his government at once. “But I can assure you the terms will be accepted,”
he added. “Not only have you slashed the time to a minimum-your price is far below Burlow’s.”
120 REPELATRON SKYWAY
In the days that followed, Swift Enterprises hummed with activity. Tom worked night and day organizing the supplies, schedules, technical personnel, and equipment for the project.
The evening before the expedition was to take off, Sandy and Phyl gave a bon voyage masquerade party at the Swifts’. Tom, in a gorilla suit, grinned when he spotted a green Martian.
“Your pointed head gave you away, Bud,” he joked.
“Listen, wise guy, that’s my built-in radio antenna,” Bud retorted.
Tom glanced around the room, chuckling at the costumes of the guests. “I’d hate to meet that on a dark night,” he remarked, pointing to a skeleton figure who had just arrived. “Wonder how Chow will disguise his bay window!”
“He can always come as a circus fat lady,” Bud suggested. “Say, I’ll bet that walking palm tree over there is Darcy Creel.”
Later, with the party in full swing, Tom was called to the phone. Harlan Ames was calling.
“Are your guests all masked?” Ames inquired.