Part 13 (1/2)

”Pretzels!” cried Mary.

”Eh? Oh, yes, my dear. I was forgetting again.”

There was a moment of merriment, and then, after the talk had run for a while in other and safer channels, Mr. Damon made the announcement:

”I think we're about there. We'll be at Tom's place when we make the turn and--”

He was interrupted by a low, heavy rumbling.

”What's that?” asked Mr. Nestor.

”It's getting louder--the noise,” remarked Mary. ”It sounds as if some big body were approaching down the road--the tramp of many feet. Can it be that troops are marching away?”

”Bless my spark plug!” suddenly cried Mr. Damon. ”Look!”

They gazed ahead, and there, seen in the glare of the automobile headlights, was an immense, dark body approaching them from across a level field. The rumble and roar became more p.r.o.nounced and the ground shook as though from an earthquake.

A glaring light shone out from the ponderous moving body, and above the roar and rattle a voice called:

”Out out of the way! We've lost control! Look out!”

”Bless my steering wheel!” gasped Mr. Damon, ”that was Tom Swift's voice! But what is he doing in that--thing?”

”It must be his new invention!” exclaimed Ned.

”What is it?” asked Mr. Nestor.

”A giant,” ventured Ned. ”It's a giant machine of some sort and--”

”And it's running away!” cried Mr. Damon, as he quickly steered his car to one side--and not a moment too soon! An instant later in a cloud of dust, and with a rumble and a roar as of a dozen express trains fused into one, the runaway giant--of what nature they could only guess--flashed and lumbered by, Tom Swift leaning from an opening in the thick steel side, and shouting something to his friends.

Chapter XI

Tom's Tank

”What was it?” gasped Mary, and, to her surprise, she found herself close to Ned, clutching his arm.

”I have an idea, but I'd rather let Tom tell you,” he answered.

”But where's it going?” asked Mr. Nestor. ”What in the world does Tom Swift mean by inviting us out here to witness a test, and then nearly running us down under a Juggernaut?”

”Oh, there must be some mistake, I'm sure,” returned his daughter. ”Tom didn't intend this.”

”But, bless my insurance policy, look at that thing go! What in the world is it?” cried Mr. Damon.

The ”thing” was certainly going. It had careened from the road, tilted itself down into a ditch and gone on across the fields, lights shooting from it in eccentric fas.h.i.+on.

”Maybe we'd better take after it,” suggested Mr. Nestor. ”If Tom is--”

”There, it's stopping!” cried Ned. ”Come on!”