Part 3 (1/2)
Tom considered a moment before replying. Then he said slowly:
”Well, yes, Ned, it is a pretty good machine. But--”
”'But!' Howling tomcats! Say, what's the 'matter with you, anyhow, Tom?
This is great! 'But!' 'But me no buts!' This is, without exception, the greatest thing out since an airs.h.i.+p. It will win the war for us and the Allies, too, and don't you forget it! Fritz's barbed wire and dugouts and machine gun emplacements can't stand for a minute against these tanks! Why, Tom, they can crawl on their back as well as any other way, and they don't mind a shower of shrapnel or a burst of machine gun lead, any more than an alligator minds a swarm of gnats. The only thing that makes 'em hesitate a bit is a Jack Johnson or a Bertha sh.e.l.l, and it's got to be a pretty big one, and in the right place, to do much damage. These tanks are great, and there's nothing like 'em.”
”Oh, yes there is, Ned!”
”There is!” cried Ned. ”What do you mean?”
”I mean there may be something like them--soon.”
”There may? Say, Tom--”
”Now don't ask me a lot of questions, Ned, for I can't answer them.
When I say there may be something like them, I mean it isn't beyond the realms of possibility that some one--perhaps the Germans--may turn out even bigger and better tanks.”
”Oh!” And Ned's voice showed his disappointment. ”I thought maybe you were in on that game yourself, Tom. Say, couldn't you get up something almost as good as this?” and he indicated the picture in the paper.
”Isn't that wonderful?”
”Oh, well, it's good, Ned, but there are others. Yes, Dad, I'm coming,”
he called, as he saw his father beckoning to him from a distant building.
”Well, I've got to get along,” said Ned. ”But I certainly am disappointed, Tom. I thought you'd go into a fit over this picture--it's one of the first allowed to get out of England, my London friend said. And instead of enthusing you're as cold as a clam;” and Ned shook his head in puzzled and disappointed fas.h.i.+on as he walked slowly along beside the young inventor.
They pa.s.sed a new building, one of the largest in the group of the many comprising the Swift plant. Ned looked at the door which bore a notice to the effect that no one was admitted unless bearing a special permit, or accompanied by Mr. Swift or Tom.
”What's this, Tom?” asked Ned. ”Some new wrinkle?”
”Yes, an invention I'm working on. It isn't in shape yet to be seen.”
”It must be something big, Tom,” observed Ned, as he viewed the large building.
”It is.”
”And say, what a whopping big fence you've got around the back yard!”
went on the young banker. ”Looks like a baseball field, but it would take some scrambling on the part of a back-lots kid to get over it.”
”That's what it's for--to keep people out.”
”I see! Well, I've got to get along. I'm a bit back in my day's quota of selling Liberty Bonds, and I've got to hustle. I'm sorry I bothered you about that tank picture, Tom.”
”Oh, it wasn't a bother--don't think that for a minute, Ned! I was glad to see it.”
”Well, he didn't seem so, and his manner was certainly queer,” mused Ned, as he walked away, and turned in time to see Tom enter the new building, which had such a high fence all around it. ”I never saw him more indifferent. I wonder if Tom isn't interested in seeing Uncle Sam help win this war? That's the way it struck me. I thought surely Tom would go up in the air, and say this was a dandy,” and Ned unfolded the paper and took another look at the British tank photograph. ”If there's anything can beat that I'd like to see it,” he mused.