Bud ran to obey orders, but then returned. Tom’s forehead was glistening with perspiration. In a few moments he succeeded in disarming the bomb and stood up, heaving a sigh of relief.
“Whew!” Bud suddenly realized his own legs were trembling. “Are we still in one piece?”
Tom chuckled. Before he could reply, the whine of a police-car siren announced the arrival of the police. The boys hurried to the lobby.
Two officers dashed in. Tom reported that the bomb was disarmed and told how he had been summoned to the phone.
“Just as I was stepping into the booth,” Tom went on, “someone conked me.
Whoever did it must have been hiding in the shadows-probably behind a floor sign. Next thing I knew, Bud was trying to pry me out.”
One of the officers frowned. “Funny the phone in the manager’s office wouldn’t work.”
“The outside wires must have been cut,” Tom said.
“We’ll check,” the officer promised. “And you’d better have that injury attended to.”
Tom had been holding a handkerchief to his head and the bleeding appeared to have stopped. The theater manager applied a bandage from the 82 3-D TELEJECTOR
first-aid kit in his office. Meanwhile, Bud reassured Sandy and Phyl, who had been waiting anxiously outside among the crowd of spectators.
The policeman who had gone to check the telephone wires reported that Tom’s guess was correct. Meantime, his partner had been questioning the manager and the candy clerk.
Tom surmised that his assailant had trailed the young inventor to the theater and followed him inside.
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