“Good show, chaps!” Ames quipped. “We saw your arrival at Southampton relayed over TV.”
“You missed half the fun,” Tom retorted wryly. He told of their interrogation at London Airport. Ames was indignant and promised to try to find out, through security authority and Interpol channels to Scotland Yard, the name of the tipster who had accused the boys of faking.
Tom also related their adventure with the mysTOM SWIFT’S DOUBLE 53
terious electric trawler. He asked Ames to dispatch the Sea Hound to England. The security chief promised that the seacopter would be at London Airport the following afternoon.
After returning to the hotel lobby, Tom and Bud took a stroll through Hyde Park with the girls and then stopped in a tearoom.
“By the way, Tom,” said Phyl with a smile, “we saw you in London yesterday.”
“Yesterday? But we just got here.” Tom looked puzzled. “You mean on a TV
newscast?”
“Oh, no-in person. We even touched you, but you ignored us.” Sandy grinned teasingly.
“Okay, what’s the gag?” Bud asked.
“It’s no gag-it’s the truth,” Sandy insisted. “Of course he must have been an impostor-or a double-if you’re positive you didn’t land till today. Maybe we should go back to that place and see if he’s still around.”
“That’s a deal.” Tom laughed. “You’ve got us too intrigued to leave us dangling in suspense.”
The four young people hailed a taxi, and Sandy whispered something to the driver.
“Righto, miss.” The Cockney driver grinned. “Fair give ‘em the shudders, that place will!”
A short time later the taxi drew up before a building in Marylebone Road which bore a sign: london wax museum.