CHAPTER XVI
THE GUNMAN'S SURPRISE
Sandy and Phyl were terrified by the sudden appearance of therough-looking pair with their drawn revolvers. Tom and Bud remainedcool, eying the men warily.
"What's the big idea?" Tom asked.
"Shut up and hoist your mitts!" the bigger of the men snarled. As theboys obeyed, he muttered to his partner, "Keep these two punks covered,Mugs, while I take their cash!"
"Right, Packy! I'll watch 'em!"
Sandy and Phyl emptied their pockets. Then Packy took the boys' walletsand change.
"Now turn around and march!" Packy snapped.
Bud took the lead, followed by the two girls, with Tom bringing up therear. They plodded up the brushy slope in silence for several minutes.Presently a weather-beaten cabin in a grove of trees came into view.
"You intend to hold us there?" Tom asked.
"You'll find out soon enough!" Packy answered. "We'll teach you tointerfere with the Mirovs!"
_The Mirovs!_ Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, the whole picture suddenlyfell into place. It was clear to Tom now how the capture had beenarranged.
The call to the jail from Dimitri Mirov had been a hoax. Its purpose hadreally been to get Tom away from Enterprises--thus giving the two thugsa starting point from which to follow him. The mountain hike, organizedby Bud and the girls, had played right into their hands! As Tom sized upthe situation, seeking a way out, the group reached the cabin.
"What are your terms for letting us go?" Tom asked their captors,stalling for time.
The man named Packy gave an ugly chuckle. "None yet," he said. "We mayjust decide to set the cabin on fire."
Sandy uttered a gasp as his words sank home. Phyl Newton had turneddeathly pale. Packy now told his partner to unlock the cabin. Mugsstepped to the door.
At that moment Tom caught Bud's eye. _It was now or never!_
Tom whirled and smashed a stiff handblow to Packy's wrist, knocking thegun from his hand. Bud hurled himself on Mugs.
Taken off guard, the shorter thug staggered and went down under a hailof punches. Bud grabbed his wrist and twisted it mercilessly while hepinned him to the ground.
Mugs screeched with pain. "C-c-cut it out!"
"Then drop your gun!" Bud snapped.
Tom, meanwhile, had followed up his first advantage with a stunning blowto the solar plexus. Packy grunted for breath, then came back viciouslywith several well-aimed punches that staggered Tom.
As the young inventor stumbled backward, Packy dived for his gun. Thoughstill groggy, Tom managed to kick the weapon out of reach. Before Packycould straighten up, Tom followed with a sweeping uppercut that caughthim squarely on the chin.
Packy went down like a felled tree!
Tom picked up the gun before his groaning victim could recover. By thistime, Bud had pounded his own opponent into submission. Within a fewmoments, both thugs were lined up against the wall of the cabin. Theirwrists were tightly strapped behind them with their own belts.
"Oh ... thank goodness!" Sandy gasped.
Tom gave the girls a reassuring grin. "Are you two all right?"
"I g-guess so." Phyl gave a nervous smile.
Now that the tables were turned, it was the thugs' turn to "march."The boys herded them warily back down the hillside toward the road,where Bud had parked his red convertible. Sandy and Phyl followed closebehind.
_Tom and Bud hurled themselves at the thugs_]
Like all cars belonging to the Swifts' key personnel, Bud's was equippedwith a two-way shortwave radio. Tom switched it on and radioed ShoptonPolice Headquarters. Chief Slater promised to send a squad car at once.
Minutes later, they heard it approaching. Two husky police officersleaped out as the car braked to a halt, and took charge of theprisoners. Scowling and sullen, they were driven off to jail.
"Well," said Bud jokingly, "what about that relaxing hike we werestarting?"
Phyl sighed. "I'm afraid you two boys just can't get away from_in_ventions and _ad_ventures."
Sandy added, "I suggest we go home for a nice safe dinner."
Later, at the Swifts' house, Tom received a telephone call from ChiefSlater. He reported that the two prisoners were known hoodlums from anearby city.
"They claim they were hired for this job last night by a stranger whospoke with an accent," Slater went on. "According to their story, theynever even got a look at his face, and they had no idea he was an enemyagent."
"Sounds reasonable," Tom agreed. "It's not likely Mirov's Brungarianhenchmen would endanger their whole setup by taking any cheap gunmeninto their confidence."
Chief Slater also reported that Len Unger was still at large. "But theFBI will probably pick him up soon," he added.
"I sure hope so," Tom said.
A ten-hour sleep that night proved a fine tonic. Tom awoke the nextmorning feeling entirely refreshed, and after a hearty breakfast,hurried off to the plant. Here he plunged into work on his qualityanalyzer sonar.
Much of the circuitry was assigned to the electronics department. Thefinished boards and sub-assemblies were fed back to Tom in his privatelaboratory. He himself assembled the major units.
At lunchtime, over a bowl of chili and crackers, Tom recalled anotherproblem. "We'll need an undetectable sub to test my analyzer," he mused."That means a repeat job of rigging all those transducers. Whew! I'dbetter get busy on that plastic sheathing."
As soon as he had eaten, Tom phoned Arv Hanson, who arrived at the labin a few moments.
"You remember that idea I mentioned to Danny about molding all thetransducers into a single continuous plastic sheet?" As Arv nodded, Tomwent on, "Let's try it, using Tomasite as the plastic."
Tom picked up a pencil and quickly sketched out the production steps.By machine-spacing the transmitting and the receiving transducers asclosely together as possible, with minimum clearance, the plasticcoating could do an even better job of absorbing sonar pings than thehand-rigged model.
"And the leads from all the transducers can be combined into a singleflat tape," Tom ended. "That'll make it simple to hook up with theelectronic control unit inside."
"Got it, skipper," Arv said tersely. "It'll take overtime to set up thejob in the plastics department. But we ought to be rolling out thesheeting Tuesday."
"That's swell, Arv! Thanks!"
By midmorning Tuesday, Tom had his quality analyzer sonar completed andwas showing Bud how the units worked.
"Boy, it looks simple enough the way you explain it, prof!" Bud saidadmiringly. "How soon can we try it?"
"Depends on Arv," Tom replied. He picked up the phone and called theplastics department. To his delight, the sheathing was already beingrolled out in quantity. Arv promised that by noon he would have enoughof it available to coat a jetmarine.
"Nice going!" Tom said. "Shoot it out to the cargo-jet hangar as soon asit's ready!"
Soon after lunch, Tom, Bud, and Arv took off for Fearing Island. Whenthey arrived at the base, the plastic coating with its myriad tiny"mikes" and "speakers" was speedily applied to a jetmarine under Arv'ssupervision. Tom, meanwhile, wired the control unit and also installedthe analyzer sonar in the _Sea Hound_.
"Want to be 'It' for another underwater game of hide-and-seek?" Tomasked Bud with a grin.
"Sure, but don't tag me with a torpedo!"
Minutes later, the jetmarine slipped off into the depths with Bud andtwo other crewmen aboard. Tom and Arv followed in the seacopter. Thequality analyzer sonar worked even better than Tom had hoped. He notonly tracked the jetmarine on its outward course, but located it threedifferent times after shutting off the analyzer long enough for Bud toseek a new location.
"How'd you like to relieve Hank in the South Atlantic?" Tom asked Budupon their return.
Bud gave a whoop of excitement. "Roger!"
Tom slapped him on the back. "You can take off as soon as your ship'sprovisioned. I'll join you later--but first," Tom added mysteriously, "Ihave another job to attend to."
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