[1....2....3....4....5....6....SoL] [JOEL is in a dentists' chair, while CROW, in white dentists' clothes, consults an ancient scroll. CROW holds a long drill bit and TOM marches up and down wearing a black jackal mask and chanting gutturally.] CROW: All right, did that ... hey, Joel, did you know that the white part of your teeth is called enamel? JOEL: Yes, I knew the white part of my teeth was called enamel. [JOEL notes CAMBOT.] JOEL: Oh, hi, everyone. As part of his history project, Doctor Crow here is giving me a root canal using instructions in ancient Egyptian medical texts. CROW: I tell you, Joel, the Egyptians were remarkably advanced in matters medical. Okay, we've got Tom chanting to Anubis, the stars seem to be in the right position ... now to insert this screw into your nostril and start removing your brain. JOEL: [Considers] I don't think that's a medical textbook you have there. CROW: [Hesitates and reads the scroll.] Uh ... You're right, Joel! It's a guide to embalming. D'oh! TOM: Does this mean I can stop chanting now? CROW: Right, Tom ... let's see. We need a priestess of Sekhmet. Does Gypsy still have that Mirage costume from our Disney Afternoon Party? [Commercial sign signs to flash.] JOEL: We'll be right back. [Commercials] [SoL. JOEL's out of the chair, and is attempting to help TOM remove the Anubis mask. CROW, next to them, is wearing the aforementioned Mirage costume.] CROW: This dress doesn't make me look fat, does it? [Mads' light flashes] JOEL: Hang on Crow, it's Pink Boy and the Brainless. [JOEL hits the light.] [Instead of Gizmonics, we see a set reminiscent of the opening host scene from "Masterpiece Theater." JOHN sits in an highly-stylized and comfortable chair, with a large oak bookcase behind him, crammed to the breaking point with technical journals and role-playing games. He snaps out of a contemplative mood and looks at the camera, annoyed.] JOHN: Yes? What is it? [SoL] TOM: Uh, *you* called us. JOEL: Hey, wait a minute -- John? Why aren't you at Gizmonics? [COMFY CHAIR] JOHN: Oh, well, I just got this Comfy Chair delivered to my apartment, and have refused to go into work until I have been fully saturated in the experience that is upholstery perfection. [SoL] CROW: The more I learn about you, the more you frighten me. [COMFY CHAIR] JOHN: Thank you, you silly little robot. [SoL] CROW: Hey! JOEL: Yeah, uh, sorry John. Hope not to see you soon -- let's try this again. [He swats the light once more.] JOEL: Hello, sirs. Are we doing an invention exchange? [GIZMONICS: DR. FORRESTER and TV'S FRANK stand in shot; FRANK in the background, holding a large teddy bear. FRANK is playing with the bear, muttering endearments to it and trying to make it look like it's moving under its own power.] DR. F: Ah, Joel. My invention today teaches children a valuable lesson. As families continue to shatter in an increasingly complex society, supervising children is increasingly difficult for the single parent. And so, I've invented a new, interactive plush toy, the Tattle Tail. FRANK: [Startled] The what? DR. F: During the day, it stays with your child, its simple interactive systems convincing the little tot that it is a friend who can be trusted. But with a simple spoken command it will reveal all. Watch. [DR.F turns towards FRANK] Tattle Tail -- Klatuu, barada, nikto! TATTLE TAIL: [Speaks in a stiff, female voice] Frank ate the powdered donuts he was supposed to feed the Mole Men. Instead of mucking out Tor's cage, he watched _The Disney Princess_ collection, eating Cheeze Doodles out of your Little Mermaid bowl. DR. F: Thank you, Tattle Tail. Frank- FRANK: I'll report to the Agony Booth after the experiment, sir. [SoL] JOEL: Well, that was evil, sir, but the only lesson it teaches is that the ones you love will betray you. [GIZMONICS] DR. F: Exactly. Heh, heh, heh... have you got an invention, or will you cravenly beg for mercy now? [SoL] [Everyone wears VR goggles, gloves, and webcams on their heads.] JOEL: Video games! They're fun, they're engrossing, but there's one drawback. TOM: They're a colossal waste of time. JOEL: Exactly. Every second you spend on the adventures of the child of the god of murder is another second you're not cleaning your room, honing your professional skills, or even just kicking back with your friends. CROW: Wow, Joel, you're right! JOEL: But my Virtual Virtual Reality Generator makes your real life the ultimate first-person game. The webcam turns everything you'd normally see into stiff, inexpressive polygons so you can pretend your real life is as important as trading motes on "Asheron's Call." TOM: Earn points by cleaning up after yourself! CROW: By reading books that challenge your beliefs! JOEL: Or even by enjoying the beauties of a sunset. [GYPSY enters, head bowed.] JOEL: Gypsy, is something wrong? GYPSY: I don't know. I'm just feeling a little depressed. JOEL: Oh, I'm sorry. Want to talk about it? TOM: Wow! Fifty points right there! CROW: Ka-ching! [GIZMONICS. FRANK wears one of JOEL's VVR sets, while DR. FORRESTER glowers hatefully into the camera.] FRANK: Hey, this is neat! Joel, I think you've come up with a way to tap into a vast source of squandered energy and potential! DR. F: Pretty cute, aren't you, Joel? Well, I'm going to unleash great squandered energy on you now. I was going to hit you with the sequel to "Under the Bridge," but instead I'm going to make sure you never invent anything again. You've heard of "Tom Swifties," haven't you? [SoL] JOEL: Oh, yeah. "'It's raining,' Tom said precipitously." Jokes like that. TOM: Uhm... don't jokes have to be funny? [GIZMONICS] DR. F: Well, boys, back at the turn of the century an interminable series of novels was written about a young inventor, named Tom Swift. Tom's inability to just say something using the word "said" was the source of more amusement than the actual books. And so, I will unleash upon you the twenty-first novel in the series, written during the War to End All War, "Tom Swift and His War Tank." And, just to sweeten the deal, I'm tossing in an introduction to this dashing young man lifted from the earlier Volume 12, "Tom Swift and His Air Glider." It will, I promise you, crush your will to invent. Frank, push the button. FRANK: If I cause someone pain, I lose points. [DR. FORRESTER hesitates, and pushes the button.] [SoL] ALL: Non-Fanfic Sign! [The usual hijinks ensue.] [SoL....6....5....4....3....2....1] [As Joel and the Bots find their seats, they chat.] JOEL: Well, this won't be too bad. TOM: How do you figure? JOEL: It's not a fanfic. That means that at least one editor thought it was worth spending money on. CROW: Oh, this is the bit from Volume 12. > Tom Swift was an inventor, as was his father before him. But Mr. > Swift was getting too old, now, to do much, JOEL: Being in his late thirties. > though he had a pet >invention TOM: A Sony Aibo named Rags. CROW: Woof! Woof! > --that of a gyroscope--on which he worked from time to time. >Tom lived with his father in the village of Shopton, in New York state. >His mother was dead, JOEL: Thereby avoiding the necessity of testosterone-impaired characters in a position of authority into our little all-male fantasy world. > but a housekeeper, named Mrs. Baggert, looked >after the wants of the inventors, young and old. [Joel and the Bots cough and whistle innocently.] > The first book of the series was called "Tom Swift and His Motor- >Cycle," CROW: Wait - let me guess. In which Tom Swift gets a motorcycle? TOM: No, a motor-cycle. You forgot the dash. > and in that I related how Tom bought the machine from a Mr. >Wakefield Damon, of Waterford, after the odd gentleman had >unintentionally started to climb a tree with it. JOEL: I can see why Mr. Wakefield Damon, of Waterford, is considered odd. > That disgusted Mr. >Damon with motor-cycling, CROW: Joel, why doesn't American English use all these hyphens any more? JOEL: There was a hyphen shortage during World War II. > and Tom had lots of fun on the machine, and >not a few daring adventures. TOM: None of which will be described here, but remember, that's "Tom Swift and His Motor-cycle," available at better bookstores everywhere. > He and Mr. Damon became firm friends, and the oddity of the >gentleman--mainly that of CROW: Climbing trees with motor vehicles? > blessing everything he could think of-was no >objection in Tom's mind. TOM: Tom's life was so stilted he got a vicarious thrill from Mr. Damon's daredevil nonconformity. > The young inventor and Ned Newton went on many >trips together, Mr. Damon being one of the party. JOEL: Doesn't that sound like a line from Edward Gorey? CROW: Except Appleton wasn't being ironic. > In Shopton lived Andy Foger, a bullying sort of a chap, JOEL: This must be our hero's easily-thwarted nemesis. > who acted >very meanly toward Tom at times. CROW: It's probably wrong of me, as I haven't met Tom yet, but I'm starting to like Andy Foger. > Another resident of the town was a Mr. >Nestor, but Tom was more interested in his daughter Mary than in the >head of the household. CROW: Tom's father is probably glad to hear that. > Add Eradicate Sampson, an eccentric colored man TOM: Brace yourself, guys. >who said he got his name because he "eradicated" dirt, CROW: I have the awful feeling his amusing antics will provide much needed levity to these proceedings. > and his mule, >Boomerang, and I think you have met the principal characters of these >stories. TOM: They will haunt you forever. > After Tom had much enjoyment out of his motor-cycle, CROW: Insert comment here. > he got a >motor boat, TOM: Not a motor-boat? > and one of his rivals on Lake Carlopa JOEL: Lake Crapola? > was this same Andy >Foger, CROW: Not to be confused with all the other Andy Fogers in town, of course. > but our hero vanquished him. JOEL: Well, that was exciting. My heart was in my throat. > Then Tom built an airship, TOM: To fight the Nazis. > which >had been the height of his ambition for some years. TOM: Tom had a desperate, lonely life, without friendship or love. JOEL: This is life before the Internet, remember. > He had a stirring >cruise in the Red Cloud, CROW: Tom was easily stirred. > and then, deserting the air for the water, CROW: [AIR] But...Tom, you said you loved me! TOM: [WATER] Back off, loser- he's mine! CROW: [AIR sobs] > Tom >and his father built a submarine, in which they went after sunken >treasure. TOM: Submarine? Joel, I'm sacred. JOEL: Tom, this was written during World War I - Nowak wasn't alive then. TOM: Good. Then how bad can it be? CROW: Jinx us a bit more, why don't you? >In the book, "Tom Swift and His Electric Runabout," I told >how, CROW: [Flatly] Tom Swift built an electric runabout. > in the speediest car on the road, Tom saved his father's bank from >ruin, TOM: How the hell can a fast car prevent a bank collapse? CROW: Maybe it runs on hyperinflation. > and in the book dealing with Tom's wireless message I related how >he saved the Castaways JOEL: Of Gilligan's Isle. > of Earthquake Island. TOM: [Tom Swift, in a muffled radio voice] Weather fine, wish you were here, over. JOEL & CROW: [Castaways of Earthquake Island] We're saved. > When Tom went among the diamond makers, CROW: I wonder what they do? > at the request of Mr. >Barco Jenks, and discovered the secret of phantom mountain TOM: Oh, yeah -- now I remember! JOEL: Wasn't that a "The Three Investigators" mystery? > the lad >fancied that might be the end of his adventures, but TOM: ...since there is no God.... > there were more to >follow. Going to the caves of ice, his airship was wrecked, JOEL: What did he expect when he brought an airship into a cave? > but he and >his friends managed to get back home, CROW: And there was much rejoicing. JOEL & TOM: [Dully] Yay. > and then it was that the young >inventor perfected his sky racer, in which he made the quickest flight >on record. JOEL: Crashed that sucker within ten feet of takeoff. > Most startling were his adventures in elephant land whither he >went with his electric rifle, TOM: Brought to you by Jim Handy. > and he was the means of saving a >missionary, Mr. Illingway and his wife, from the red pygmies. CROW: Damn communist pygmies... > Tom had not been home from Africa long before he got a letter >from this missionary, telling about an underground City in Mexico that >was said to be filled with gold. JOEL: Yes, I see how it fits together. Missionaries in Africa know all about underground cities in Mexico. > Tom went there, and in the book, >entitled, "Tom Swift in the City of Gold," I related his adventures. CROW: You bastard. > How he and his friends were followed by the Fogers, JOEL: And their crystals? > how they >eluded them, made their way to the ruined temple in a small dirigible >balloon, CROW: [Amazed] A ruined temple in a small dirigible balloon? > descended to the secret tunnel, managed to turn aside the >underground river, JOEL: Causing a drought that killed thousands. > and reach CROW: Hey check it out -- a tense problem! Can I call him on this, or is it not allowed with professional manuscripts? TOM: Define "professional" first. > the city of gold with its wonderful gold >statues-- JOEL: Tom was disappointed as he had been expecting zinc. TOM: Which is vital for good health. > all this is told in the volume. TOM: On sale now at all better bookstores, but I digress. > Then, after pulling down, in the centre of the underground city, >the big golden statue, JOEL: Loot, destroy ... man, these guys make Indiana Jones look like Richard Leakey. > the door of rock descended, and made our friends >prisoners. They almost died, ALL: Yay! > but Andy Foger CROW: Which one? > and his father, in league >with some rascally Mexicans JOEL: I can't believe that I am actually seeing the word "rascally" being used as a genuine insult. > and a tribe of head-hunters, finally made >their way to the tunnel, and most unexpectedly, released Tom and his >friends. JOEL: You know, I'm not sure that explaining every little plot twist is really going to sell more books. > There was a fight, but our hero's party escaped with considerable >gold and safely reached Shopton. TOM: Where they melted these pre-Columbian blasphemies down to make good, solid, American ingots. JOEL: Read about it in "Tom Swift and his Conquest of the Aztecs." > Now, after a winter spent in work, JOEL: Tom made a bookshelf. >fixing over an old aeroplane, we again meet Tom. ALL: Hi, Tom. JOEL: Well, that enlightened me about Tom's personality. TOM: Based on that, I don't think he has one. JOEL: Exactly. >TOM SWIFT AND HIS WAR TANK >or >Doing His Bit For Uncle Sam TOM: I like books with two titles. Don't you? >BY >VICTOR APPLETON CROW: He's probably dead by now. Lucky bastard. >Tom Swift and His War Tank > > > >CONTENTS TOM: Jingoism, 32kg; Honesty and Loyalty, 24kg; Character flaws and internal conflicts, N/A. > I Past Memories JOEL: As opposed to future memories? > II Tom's Indifference CROW: And I don't care either. TOM: I'm hoping we can get through this without ever mentioning the name thing again, okay? > III Ned is Worried JOEL: There's a war on, and he's of draft age ... yes, he should be. > IV Queer Doings CROW: So there is a sex scene? JOEL: I really doubt it. > V "Is He a Slacker?" [Everyone gasps in mock horror.] > VI Seeing Things TOM: As the drugs start to kick in. > VII Up a Tree CROW: Mr. Damon must be driving his motor-cycle again. > VIII Detective Rad JOEL: Whoa! Rad, dude! > IX A Night Test CROW: Are you sure there aren't any sex scenes? > X A Runaway Giant JOEL: Glen? > XI Tom's Tank TOM: This is where the main character gets introduced. > XII Bridging a Gap CROW: Is it expecting too much to think that this is where Tom Swift bridges a gap between warring peoples and returns peace to the world? JOEL: I think that's expecting too much, yes. > XIII Into a Trench TOM: So Ned does get drafted. > XIV The Ruined Factory JOEL: Now we're in "Enemy at the Gates." TOM: Wrong war. JOEL: It's called a joke, Tom. > XV Across Country CROW: To elude the draft board? > XVI The Old Barn JOEL: Bob Vila in "This Old Barn." > XVII Veiled Threats CROW: Featuring the Aielmen. >XVIII Ready for France CROW: Looks like they catch poor Ned. > XIX Tom Is Missing JOEL: You guys ever see "Chan is Missing?" Man, I love that film. TOM: Creator, since when have we ever seen a good film? > XX The Search TOM: Starring John Wayne. > XXI A Prisoner CROW: Starring Patrick McGoohan's sullen face. > XXII Rescued JOEL: Don't tell me there's talking mice in this story. >XXIII Gone TOM: [Singing] With the Wind... > XXIV Camouflaged JOEL: I'm guessing that was an episode of "The Avengers." > XXV Foiled CROW: Again? >TOM SWIFT AND HIS WAR TANK TOM: After that table of contents, I see no need to actually read the story. >Chapter I > >Past Memories JOEL: [Explodes] All right already! Get on with it! >Ceasing his restless walk up and down the room, Tom Swift >strode to the window and gazed across the field toward the >many buildings, where machines were turning out the products >evolved from the brains of his father and himself. CROW: [Heston] A world where products evolve from brains! > There was >a worried look on the face of the young inventor, TOM: [Tom Swift] I have the strangest feeling the government's lying, and that this 'income tax' is going to remain in place after the war. > and he >seemed preoccupied, as though thinking of something far >removed from whatever it was his eyes gazed upon. TOM: [Tom Swift] If the Austrians are attacking Serbia because of the assassination of the Archduke Ferdinand, why are the Germans marching on Paris? >"Well, I'll do it!" suddenly exclaimed Tom. "I don't want >to, but I will. CROW: [Tom Swift] I WILL have lunch! > It's in the line of 'doing my bit,' I >suppose; but I'd rather it was something else. I wonder--" JOEL: [Tom Swift] If she's looking now at this same moon, and wondering if I'm alive? Wait, I'm still in New York... >"Ha! Up to your old tricks, I see, Tom!" CROW: Staring out windows, babbling incoherently... > exclaimed a >voice, in which energy and friendliness mingled pleasingly. TOM: I hate him already. >"Up to your old tricks!" CROW: Yes, he said that already. >"Oh, hello, Mr. Damon!" cried Tom, turning to shake hands >with an elderly gentleman--that is, elderly in appearance >but not in action, TOM: Wisdom, or even chronological age. > for he crossed the room with the >springing step of a lad, and there was the enthusiasm of >youth on his face. CROW: I definitely hate him now. >"What do you mean--my old tricks?" JOEL: [Mr. Damon] Ingrained habits which differentiate you slightly from lamp posts. Why do you ask? >"Talking to yourself, Tom. And when you do that it means >there is something in the wind. TOM: [Tom Swift] No, that's my fault. Victory garden's a little heavy in beans... > I hope, as a sort of side >remark, it isn't rain that's in the wind, for the soldiers >over at camp have had enough water to set up a rival >establishment with Mr. Noah. CROW: Ha ha, I am in awe of his native wit. > But there's something going on, >isn't there? JOEL: Chapter One and he's already looking for a plot? > Bless my memorandum book, CROW: Bless my what? > but don't tell me >there isn't, or I shall begin to believe I have lost all my >deductive powers of reasoning! TOM: [Tom Swift] There isn't, and you're just a comedic sidekick. You're not supposed to have deductive powers of reasoning. > I Come in here, after >knocking two or three times, to which you pay not the least >attention, TOM: Then perhaps you should take the hint? > and find you mysteriously murmuring to yourself. CROW: [Tom Swift] Redrum redrum redrum... >"The last time that happened, Tom, was just before you >started to dig the big tunnel-- JOEL: As related in "Tom Swift and the Big Tunnel." TOM: Available in finer bookstores everywhere. > No, I'm wrong. It was just >before you started for the Land of Wonders, JOEL: As related in "Tom Swift in the Land of Wonders." TOM: Available in finer bookstores everywhere. Get your copy today. > as we decided it >ought to be called. CROW: Who cares what the natives called it? > You were talking to yourself then, when >I walked in on you, and-- Say, Tom!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. >Damon eagerly, TOM: I get the feeling that Tom Swift doesn't really need to participate in this conversation. > "don't tell me you're going off on another >wild journey like that--don't!" > >"Why?" asked Tom, smiling at the energy of his caller. CROW: Energy our hero felt would be better spent against the Germans. >"Because if you are, I'll want to go with you, of course, TOM: [Tom Swift] Then why on Earth would I ever tell you? >and if I go it means I'll have to start in as soon as I can >to bring my wife around to my way of thinking. JOEL: You call that thinking? > The last >time I went it took me two weeks to get her to consent, and >then she didn't like it. So if--" TOM: Then she didn't consent, right? >"No, Mr. Damon," interrupted Tom, CROW: [Tom Swift] It's MY turn to interrupt! >"I don't count on going >on any sort of a trip--that is, any long one. I was just >getting ready to take a little spin in the Hawk, and if >you'd like to come along--" TOM: Why conserve high-octane aviation gasoline? It's not like there's a war on. >"You mean that saucy little airship of yours, CROW: I'm thinking Mr. Damon likes machines just a little bit too much. > Tom, that's >always trying to sit down on her tail, or tickle herself >with one wing?" TOM: Mr. Damon's words were exciting Tom. CROW: No wonder Tom keeps him around. >"That's the Hawk!" laughed Tom; "though that tickling >business you speak of is when I spiral. Don't you like it?" TOM: [Tom Swift] I noticed the violent projectile vomiting last time, and I was wondering. >"Can't say I do," observed Mr. Damon dryly. CROW: [Mr. Damon] Well, I could, but it would be lying. >"Well, I'll promise not to try any stunts if you come >along," Tom went on. TOM: I don't get it -- it's as though Tom wants this wiener dog with him. >"Where are you going?" asked his friend. > >"Oh, no place in particular. TOM: [Tom Swift] Just joyriding, burning up strategic resources. You know. Fun. > As you surmised, I've been >doing a bit of thinking, and--" > >"Serious thinking, too, Tom!" interrupted Mr. Damon. CROW: Mostly about how to a word in edgewise around here. >"Excuse me, but I couldn't help overhearing what you said. JOEL: [Mr. Damon] Seeing that I was eavesdropping outside your door before I barged in. >It was something about going to do something though you >didn't want to, and that it was part of your 'bit'. CROW: [Tom Swift] No, that was the second title, you twit. > That >sounds like soldier talk. Are you going to enlist, Tom?" > >"No." TOM: [Tom Swift] I'm going to kill you as my contribution to the war effort. >"Um! Well, then--" ALL: [Cluck and cackle] >"It's something I can't talk about, Mr. Damon, even to >you, as yet," Tom said, and there was a new quality in his >voice, at which his friend looked up in some surprise. JOEL: Open disgust? >"Oh, of course, Tom, if it's a secret--" > >"Well, it hasn't even got that far, as yet. TOM: [Tom Swift] It's sort of a pre-secret. > It's all up in >the air, so to speak. I'll tell you in due season. TOM: [Tom Swift] When it becomes a post-secret. CROW: I wonder if he's working on a war tank? JOEL: The title does kind of kill the suspense. > But, >speaking of the air, CROW: [Tom Swift] I'd better open this window.... > let's go for a spin. It may drive some >of the cobwebs out of my brain. CROW: That would take artillery. JOEL: As described in the previous book, "Tom Swift and his Big Cannon." TOM: Available now; don't wait, buy it today. > Did I hear you say you >thought it would rain?" TOM: [Tom Swift] There was too much other blathering for me to kept track. > >"No, it's as clear as a bell. I said I hoped it wouldn't >rain for the sake of the soldiers in camp. JOEL: But if it's clear, why are you worried it might rain? > They've had their >share of wet weather, and, goodness knows, they'll get more >when they get to Flanders. TOM: Ah, yes, where poppies grow, between the crosses, row on row... > It seems to do nothing but rain >in France." CROW: Shrapnel, mostly, but some water mixed in too. >"It is damp," agreed Tom. "And, come to think of it, they >are going to have some airship contests over at camp today-- >for the men who are being trained to be aviators, you know. TOM: Weren't airships under the Navy? >It just occurred to me that we might fly over there and >watch them." JOEL: For some reason, this strikes me as being a really bad idea. >"Fine!" cried Mr. Damon. "That's the very thing I should >like. CROW: [Mr. Damon] It's the reason I came over here in the first place. > I'll take a chance in your Hawk, Tom, if you'll >promise not to try any spiral stunts." > >"I promise, Mr. Damon. TOM: [Tom Swift] Only rectangular stunts. > Come on! I'll have Koku JOEL: Fran, and Ollie. > run the >machine out and get her ready for a flight to Camp. It's a >good day for a jaunt in the air." CROW: [Tom Swift] Gravity isn't being rationed yet. >"Get out the Hawk, Koku," ordered the young inventor, as >he motioned to a big man TOM: A man who appeared out of thin air. > --a veritable giant--who nodded to >show he understood. CROW: Normally he showed comprehension be staring blankly ahead. > Koku was really a giant, one of a race >of strange beings, TOM: Non-Americans. > and Tom Swift had brought the big man >with him when he escaped from captivity, as those will >remember who have read that book. CROW: "Tom Swift and the Race of Strange Beings?" TOM: They left out the small fact that Koku really didn't want to leave. >"Going far, Tom?" asked an aged man, coming to the door of >one of the many buildings of which the shed where the >airship was kept formed one. CROW: [Perturbed] "Of which the shed where the..." >"Not very far, Father," answered the young inventor. TOM: Hoping to avoid another blessing war between Mr. Damon and Father. >"Mr. Damon and I are going for a little spin over to Camp >Grant, to see some aircraft contests among the army >birdmen." JOEL: [Mr. Swift] Fly unannounced over a military base in wartime, son? That sounds incredibly stupid. TOM: [Tom Swift] Go play with your gyroscope, old man. >"Oh, all right, Tom. I just wanted to tell you that I >think I've gotten over that difficulty you found with the >big carburetor you were working on. CROW: [Mr. Swift] It's made from wood. > You didn't say what you >wanted it for, except that it was for a heavy duty gasolene TOM: "Gasolene?" >engine, and you couldn't get the needle valve to work as >you'd like. I think I've found a way." TOM: Thanks for spilling your guts, pops. Tom, if you want someone to keep a secret, you should let them know it's a secret. >"Good, Dad! CROW: [Tom Swift] You get a biscuit. > I'll look at it when I come back. That >Carburetor did bother me, and if I can get that to work-- >well, maybe we'll have something soon that will--" > >But Tom did not finish his sentence, CROW: He was waiting for Mr. Damon to interrupt, but the man kept missing his cue. > for Koku was getting >the aircraft in operation and Mr. Damon was already taking >his place behind the pilot's seat, which would be occupied >by Tom. CROW: I'm glad they cleared that up. I mean, they only mentioned Tom was a pilot two or three times so far. >"All ready, are you, Koku?" asked the young inventor. > >"All ready, Master," answered the giant. TOM: Gee, it really sucked to be an employee back in 1918. >There was a roar like that of a machine gun as the Hawk's >engine spun the propeller, CROW: You can see why Tom's an engineering genius. > and then, after a little run >across the sod, it mounted into the air, JOEL: Wait -- who was aboard again? > carrying Tom and >Mr. Damon with it. TOM: Mr. Appleton was paid by the word, yes? >"Mind you, Tom, no stunts!" called the visitor to the >young inventor through the speaking tube apparatus, which >enabled a conversation to be carried on, even above the roar >of the powerful engine. CROW: Tom cursed the contraption every time Mr. Damon was aboard. > "Bless my overshoes! if you try, >looping the loop with me--" JOEL: [Mr. Damon] I'll vomit into this speaking tube and see where it ends up. >"I won't do anything like that!" promised Tom. CROW: Again. >Away they soared, swift as a veritable hawk, TOM: Hence the imaginative name, "Hawk." > and soon, >after there had unrolled below their eyes a succession of >fields and forest, there came into view rows and rows of >small brown objects, among which beings, like ants, seemed >crawling about JOEL: They *were* ants -- he hasn't taken off yet. > "There's the Camp!" exclaimed Tom. > >"I see," and Mr. Damon nodded. JOEL: [Mr. Damon] I notice they're manning antiaircraft guns -- they must be going to fire a salute! >As they approached, they saw, starting up from a green >space amid the brown tents, what appeared to be big bugs of >a dirty white color splotched with green. CROW: Yes, here come the interceptors. >"The aircraft--and they have camouflage paint on," said >Tom. "We can watch 'em from up here!" TOM: [Tom Swift] The Army's always happy to have civilian aircraft pop into their training airspace. >Mr. Damon nodded, though Tom could not see him, sitting in >front of his friend as he was. > >Up and up circled the army aircraft, and they seemed to >bow and nod a greeting to the Hawk, CROW: Twin machineguns twinkling merrily above their cowlings. > which was soon in the >midst of them. TOM: I'm guessing Tom here has just lost his license, at best. > Tom and Mr. Damon, flying high, JOEL: That might explain everything, yes. > though at no >great speed, looked at the maneuvers of the veterans and >the learners--many of whom might soon be engaging the Boches >in far-off France. TOM: [Tom Swift] I must remember to describe this all to that cute French dancer, Mata Hari. >"Some of 'em are pretty good!" called Tom, through the >tube. TOM: [Tom Swift] They might be able to last against the Red Baron's Flying Circus for, heck, minutes! > "That one fellow did the loop as prettily as I've ever >seen it done," CROW: And pretty loops are very important in air combat. > and Tom Swift had a right to speak as one of >authority. JOEL: Well, just remember that good flying never killed anyone. >Tom and his friend watched the aircraft for some time, and >then started off in a long flight, attaining a high speed, >which, at first, made Mr. Damon gasp, until he JOEL: Suffocated. > became used >to it. JOEL: [Disappointed] Oh. >He was no novice at flying, and had even operated >aeroplanes himself, though at no great height. TOM: Treetop flying is much easier and safer than flying where you have room to recover from a mistake, you know. >Suddenly the Hawk seemed to falter, almost as does a bird >stricken by a hunter's gun. CROW: Someone shot him? TOM & JOEL: Yay. >The craft seemed to hang in the >air, losing motion as though about to plunge to earth >unguided. > >"What's the matter?" cried Mr. Damon. JOEL: The pilot's been shot in the head. >"One of the control wires broken!" was Tom's laconic >answer. CROW: As previously shown, however, Mr. Damon hadn't the slightest clue what "laconic" meant. JOEL: At least he's not "Byronic." TOM: Or "pelagic." CROW: Ow. Good point. > "I'll have to volplane down. Sit tight, there's no >danger!" ALL: [Scream] >Mr. Damon knew that with so competent a pilot as Tom Swift JOEL: Who flew his airship straight into the ice caves. >in the forward seat this was true, but, nevertheless, he was >a bit nervous until he felt the smooth, gliding motion, TOM: Of his hip flask whiskey going down his throat. > with >now and then an upward tilt, which showed that Tom was >coming down from the upper regions in a series of long >glides. The engine had stopped, and the cessation of the >thundering noise made it possible for Tom and his passenger >to talk without the use of the speaking tube. [TOM and CROW shriek simultaneously] TOM: [Tom Swift] OH GOD WE'RE GONNA DIE WE'RE GONNA DIE! CROW: [Mr. Damon] MOMMYMOMMYMOMMYMOMMYMOMMY-- >"All right?" asked Mr. Damon. TOM: [Tom Swift] Sure; we're just sitting at 5000 feet in a box made of canvas with no parachutes, no engine, and no control. >"All right," Tom answered, and a little later the machine >was rolling gently over the turf of a large field, a mile or >so from the camp. CROW: Splintering into microscopic fragments as the young airmen watched their first air death in horror, knowing that this would be the fate of most of them. >Before Tom and Mr. Damon could get out of their seats, JOEL: They wet them. > a >man, seemingly springing up from some hollow in the ground, >walked toward them. TOM: Oh, it must be Koku. He has a knack for appearing. >"Had an accident?" he asked, in what he evidently meant >for a friendly voice. TOM: [Tom Swift] Yes, two. >"A little one, easily mended," Tom answered. CROW: [Man] Like my infant daughter, who was playing in these fields? >He was about to take off his goggles, but at sight of the >man's face a change came over the countenance of Tom Swift, >and he replaced the eye protectors. JOEL: Seeing the man was about to spit. > Then Tom turned to Mr. >Damon, as if to ask a question, but the stranger came so >close, evidently curious to see the aircraft at close >quarters, that the young inventor could not speak without >being overheard. TOM: [Tom Swift] Can you get my flight suit dry cleaned? >Tom got out his kit of tools to repair the broken control, >and the man watched him curiously. As he tinkered away, >something was stirring among the past memories of the >inventor. CROW: [Tom Swift] Did I leave the iron on? > A question he asked himself over and over again >was: TOM: [Tom Swift] How would the United States respond if a government official were killed in a foreign country with the co-operation of that country's secret service? Oh, heck, I'm sure we wouldn't retaliate or anything. >"Where have I seen this man before? His face is familiar, >but I can't place him. CROW: Tom sounds like Rocky the Flying Squirrel here. TOM: He's already got flight goggles, too. > He is associated with something >unpleasant. JOEL: Anthropomorphic erotica? > But where have I seen this man before?" JOEL: Oh -- he's Tom's future father-in-law. >Chapter II > >Tom's Indifference CROW: [Tom Swift] I just can't make myself care about this chapter. >"Did you make this machine yourself?" asked the stranger >of Tom, as the young inventor worked at the damaged part of >his craft. CROW: But Tom, being indifferent, did not answer. >Mr. Damon had also alighted, taken off his goggles, and >was looking aloft, where the army aircraft were going >through various evolutions, JOEL: Changing from Curtis Jennys into P-38s.... > and down below, where the young >soldiers were drilling under such conditions, as far as >possible, as they might meet with when some of their number >went "over the top." CROW: Except, of course, with no death. > Mr. Damon was murmuring to himself >such remarks as: CROW: [Mr. Damon] Ah, Tom, you're so beautiful as you work on -- >"Bless my fountain pen! look at that chap turning upside >down! Bless my inkwell!" > >"I beg your pardon," remarked Tom Swift, TOM: [Tom Swift] But put a cork in it, Mr. Damon. > following the >remark of the man, whose face he was trying to recall. It >was not that Tom had not heard the question, but he was >trying to gain time before answering. JOEL: Tom is highly skilled in the delicate fencing match which is conversation. >"I asked if you made this machine yourself," went on the >man, as he peered about at the Hawk. "It isn't like any I've >ever seen before, and I know something about airships. CROW: [Man] They fly in the air. > It >has some new wrinkles on it, TOM: [Tom Swift] Oh, that's just where the dope didn't tighten up the fabric enough. > and I thought you might have >evolved them yourself. JOEL: [Tom Swift] Yep, raised it from when it was just a Kitty Hawk. > Not that it's an amateur affair, by >any means!" he added hastily, as if fearing the young >inventor might resent the implication that his machine was a >home-made product JOEL: Well, I'd certainly resent the implication I built my own airplane. >"Yes, I originated this," answered Tom, as he put a new >turn-buckle in place; "but I didn't actually construct it-- >that is, except for some small parts. CROW: That explains the wooden carburetor, then. > It was made in the >shop--" JOEL: Oh, *the* shop. >"Over at the army construction plant, I presume," >interrupted the man quickly, as he motioned toward the big >factory, not far from Shopton, where aircraft for Uncle >Sam's Army were being turned out by the hundreds. JOEL: Didn't we buy most of our planes during World War I from the French? >"Might as well let him think that," mused Tom; "at least >until I can figure out who he is and what he wants." CROW: I think Tom worries just a little too much about casual encounters. >"This is different from most of those up there," and the >stranger pointed toward the circling craft on high. JOEL: [Man] It's on the ground, mainly. > "A bit >more speedy, I guess, isn't it?" TOM: [Tom Swift] When it's moving? Yes. >"Well, yes, in a way," agreed Tom, who was lending over >his craft. CROW: Mr. Damon goosed him. >He stole a side look at the man. TOM: But had to return it. > The face was >becoming more and more familiar, yet something about it >puzzled Tom Swift. TOM: [Tom Swift] Why isn't there a nose? >"I've seen him before, and yet he didn't look like that," JOEL: Then how do you know you've seen him before? >thought the young inventor. "It's different, somehow. Now >why should my memory play me a trick like this? Who in the >world can he be?" CROW: I'll bet it's Andy Foger, the nemesis. >Tom straightened up, and tossed a monkey wrench into the >tool box. JOEL: No, the phrase is "toss a monkey wrench into the works." > >"Get everything fixed?" asked the stranger. TOM: [Tom Swift] No, but I'm going to take off anyway. >"I think so," CROW: [Tom Swift] I'll know if I don't crash. > and the young inventor tried to make his >answer pleasant. JOEL: Choking back the bitter bile of hate and resentment. TOM: [Tom Swift] I despise him. >"It was only a small break, easily fixed." > >"Then you'll be on your way again?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Maybe I should apologize for landing on his field? Nah. I have money. >"Yes. Are you ready?" called Tom to Mr. Damon. > >"Bless my timetable, yes! I didn't think you'd start back >again so soon. There's one young fellow up there who has >looped the loop three times, and I expect him to fall any >minute." CROW: [Mr. Damon] Which would be fun to watch. >"Oh, I guess he knows his business," Tom said easily. JOEL: Oh - I - guess - he - knows - his - business. I don't have any trouble saying that either. >"We'll be getting back now." CROW: So they're heading back? TOM: Very soon. JOEL: Bless my jumpsuit. TOM: Don't start. >"One moment!" called the man. "I beg your pardon for >troubling you, but you seem to be a mechanic, JOEL: [Man] I surmised this from watching you repair your self-made airship. > and that's >just the sort of man I'm looking for. Are you open to an >offer to do some inventive and constructive work?" > >Tom was on his guard instantly. JOEL: Uh - oh. A man trying to hire a technician in wartime. That's very suspicious. >"Well, I can't say that I am," he answered. "I am pretty >busy--" > >"This would pay well," went on the man eagerly. "I am a >stranger around here, ALL: [Gasp] JOEL: A ... stranger? TOM: Probably a German! CROW: No! > but I can furnish satisfactory >references. I am in need of a good mechanic, an inventor as >well, who can do what you seem to have done so well. CROW: Land a plane in an open field? TOM: No, build a plane that blows control cables whenever it's flown. > I had >hopes of getting some one at the army plant" > >"I guess they're not letting any of their men go," said >Tom, as Mr. Damon climbed to his seat in the Hawk. TOM: Machinists at the Army plant aren't allowed to quit. >"No, I soon found that out. But I thought perhaps you--" > >Tom shook his head. > >"I'm sorry," he answered, "but I'm otherwise engaged, and >very busy." CROW: [Man] Let me at least mein card to you be givink. TOM: [Tom Swift] Thank you ... Feldherr von Nebelwerfer - Kubelwagen. >"One moment!" called the man, as he saw Tom about to start >"Is the Swift Company plant far from here?" > >Tom felt something like a thrill go through him. CROW: Hearing his company's name was erotic. > There was >an unexpected note in the man's voice. JOEL: It was a perfect A Natural, so Tom tuned his violin. > The face of the young >inventor lightened, and the doubts melted away. TOM: [Tom Swift] He will be mine! He will be mine! >"No, it isn't far," Tom answered, shouting to be heard >above the crackling bangs of the motor. And then, as the >craft soared into the air, he cried exultingly: > >"I have it! I know who he is! The scoundrel! JOEL: Language! Please! > His beard >fooled me, and he probably didn't know me with these goggles >on. But now I know him!" TOM: [Tom Swift] But does he know that I know? How can I know? CROW: Shut up. >"Bless my calendar!" cried Mr. Damon. "What are you >talking about?" CROW: [Mr. Damon] And why am I blessing my calendar? >But Tom did not answer, for the reason that TOM: He's an obnoxious putz? > just then the >Hawk fell into an "air pocket," and needed all his attention >to straighten her out and get her on a level course again. CROW: And afterwards he still refused to answer Mr. Damon's question because...? >And while Tom Swift is thus engaged in speeding his >aircraft along the upper regions toward his home, it will >take but a few moments to acquaint my new readers with >something of the history of the young inventor. ALL: [Sigh] JOEL: For those at home, this would be a good time to go get a glass of water or something. > Those who >have read the previous books in this series need be told >nothing about our hero. TOM: I've never read any of the books in this series, and I'll bet I know everything there is to know about him already. He's really good at everything that he does, which is everything done by any American of his age and class. Girls admire him, but he only has pure love for one. He's Roger Ramjet played straight. He is, in effect, every bit as annoying as every Mary Sue ever penned. Any bets? CROW: No. JOEL: No. >Tom Swift was an inventor of note, CROW: Which note? TOM: A Sharp. > as was his father. TOM: The story lapped itself already? > Mr. >Swift was now quite aged and not in robust health, but he >was active at times JOEL: This was when Koku was needed to restrain him. >and often aided Tom when some knotty >point came up. CROW: Yeah, like the carburetor. TOM: All those knots in the grain, you know. >Tom and his father lived on the outskirts of the town of >Shopton, JOEL: Ostracized years ago. > and near their home were various buildings in which >the different machines and appliances were made. TOM: The secret Toaster Oven testing grounds. JOEL: As described in detail in "Tom Swift and His Electrical Food-Baker." TOM: Copies are selling fast. > Tom's >mother was dead, CROW: Having served her purpose. > but Mrs. Baggert, the housekeeper, was as >careful in looking after Tom and his father as any woman >could be. CROW: I'm sorry, but that still looks dirty to me. >In addition to these three, the household consisted of >Eradicate Sampson, an aged colored servant, TOM: Was the word 'colored' offensive in 1918, Joel? JOEL: Let's see ... recently it's gone from 'Black' to 'African-American', and in the seventies it went from 'Negro' to 'Black', and in the 1950s it went from 'Black' to 'Negro'... uh, no idea. > and, it might >almost be added, his mule Boomerang; but Boomerang had >manners that, at times, did not make him a welcome addition >to any household. TOM: Crapping on the rugs... > Then there was the giant Koku, one of two >big men Tom had brought back with him from the land where >the young inventor had been held captive for a time. JOEL: That's what I'd like -- a nice, cold glass of Koku. CROW: The topic of what happened to the other big man Tom brought back was never brought up around outsiders. >The first book of this series is called "Tom Swift and His >Motor Cycle," TOM: The hyphen shortage must've hit already. > and it was in acquiring possession of that >machine that Tom met his friend Mr. Wakefield Damon, who >lived in a neighboring town. Mr. Damon owned the motor cycle >originally, but when it attempted to climb a tree with him >he sold it to Tom. CROW: Get your story straight, will you? Either Mr. Damon climbed the tree with it, or it climbed the tree with Mr. Damon. >Tom had many adventures on the machine, and it started him >on his inventive career. TOM: And once entrenched in fame, never bothered the acknowledge the real inventor of the motorcycle. > From then on he had had a series of >surprising adventures. He had traveled in his motor boat, JOEL: Wow, how exotic and exciting. > in >an airship, and then had taken to a submarine. JOEL: Please don't mention submarines. TOM: Then, he used a new folding umbrella to keep off the rain. > In his >electric runabout he showed what the speediest car on the >road Could do, JOEL: Yeah, prevent a bank from going under. TOM: Maybe that's why the Great Depression happened - cars just weren't fast enough. > and when he sent his wireless message, the >details of which can be found set down in the volume of that >name, CROW: Hint, hint. > Tom saved the castaways of Earthquake Island. JOEL: [Appleton] I'm being paid by the word, you know. >Tom Swift had many other thrilling escapes, one from among >the diamond makers, and another from the caves of ice; and >he made the quickest flight on record in his sky racer. TOM: Do you think the Mads would notice if I stepped out? >Tom's wizard camera, JOEL: For photographing wizards? > his great searchlight, CROW: I'll just bet that was an exciting adventure. > his giant >cannon, CROW: Used to fire Koku. > his photo telephone, JOEL: Tom Swift was the first person to lose his shirt trying to sell videophones. > his aerial warship and the big >tunnel he helped to dig, brought him credit, fame, and not a >little money. TOM: Don't you wish you had a friend as cool as Tom Swift? > He had not long been back from an expedition >to Honduras, dubbed "the land of wonders," TOM: Although the natives stubbornly persist in calling it "Honduras." > when he was again >busy on some of his many ideas. And it was to get some >relief from his thoughts that he had taken the flight with >Mr. Damon on the day the present story opens. JOEL: Oh, does this mean the story's about to start? >"What are you so excited about, Tom?" asked his friend, as >the Hawk alighted near the shed back of the young inventor's >home. "Bless my scarf pin! JOEL: I would think scarfing pins would hurt. > but any one would think you'd >just discovered the true method of squaring the circle." CROW: Of what? JOEL: It's an unsolvable math problem. Drawing a square with the same surface area of a given circle using only a straightedge and compass. My geometry teacher used to assign finding it as a punishment. I hear some of those students are still working on it. >"Well, it's almost as good as that, and more practical," TOM: See? Even Tom thinks it's a dumb thing to do. >Tom said, with a smile, as he motioned to Koku to put away >the aircraft "I know who that man is, now." JOEL: That's Koku, the giant you took home from -- >"What man, Tom?" CROW: Damn, this book has the pacing of a daily comic strip. JOEL: [Appleton] Remember to spend half your time summarizing the last chapter. >"The one who was questioning me when I was fixing the >airship. CROW: [Mr. Damon] Bless my loyalty oath! You mean the German spy? > I kept puzzling and puzzling as to his identity, >and, all at once, it came to me. Do you know who he is, Mr. >Damon?" CROW: [Mr. Damon] Yes, but I thought I'd pad the story. >"No, I can't say that I do, Tom. TOM: [Mr. Damon] I was busy watching saucy airships make pretty loops. > But, as you say, there >was something vaguely familiar about him. It seemed as if I >must have seen him before, and yet--" TOM: SHUT UP! Just SHUT UP and let Tom explain! JOEL: Man, if you're starting to lose it in Chapter Two - CROW: [Maliciously] Twenty three and a half chapters to go.... >"That's just the way it struck me. What would you say if I >told you that man was Blakeson, CROW: [Mr. Damon] Who? > of Blakeson and Grinder, the >rival tunnel contractors who made such trouble for us?" JOEL: In "Tom Swift and the Big Tunnel." TOM: Available through back-order at any major record store. CROW: Or free download from Gutenberg. >"You mean down in Peru, Tom?" JOEL: How many big tunnels did you dig? >"Yes." ALL: Oh. >Mr. Damon started in surprise, and then exclaimed: > >"Bless my ear mufflers, Tom, but you're right! That was >Blakeson! JOEL: Who? > I didn't know him with his beard, but that was >Blakeson, all right! JOEL: Oh, Blakeson! > Bless my foot-warmer! CROW: His mouth? > What do you >suppose he is doing around here?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Hopefully, he's here to kill you. Twice. >"I don't know, Mr. Damon, but I'd give a good deal to >know. CROW: How good of a friend can Mr. Damon be if he's never called by his first name? > It isn't any good, I'll wager on that. JOEL: If he doesn't like Tom, he must be evil. > He didn't seem >to know me or you, either--unless he did and didn't let on. JOEL: Since he's an enemy, though, we can rule out intelligence. >I suppose it was because of my goggles--and you were gazing >up in the air most of the time. TOM: [Tom Swift] Mouth slack, as the flies buzzed in... > I don't think he knew either >of us." JOEL: I could see why he'd try to forget. >"It didn't seem so, Tom. But what is he doing here? TOM: [Tom Swift, testily] I said I don't know, but I'd give -- > Do you >think he is working at the army camp, or helping make >Liberty Motors for the aircraft that are going to beat the >Germans?" ALL: [Laughter] JOEL: Yeah, right. Anyone who crossed Tom in the past has got to be a German spy. >"Hardly. He didn't seem to be connected with the camp. He >wanted a mechanic, and hinted that I might do. TOM: "Hinted?" He brazenly offered you a job, moron! JOEL: Tom Swift lives in a special world where everything has to be said eighty times before it sinks in. Maybe that qualified as a hint. > Jove! ALL: Stone him! Stone him! > if he >really didn't know who I was, and finds out, say! won't he >be surprised?" TOM: Suddenly, Tom channels Bertie Wooster. >"Rather," agreed Mr Damon. JOEL: Back then, Americans must have imported most of their slang. > "Well, Tom, I had a nice little >ride. And now I must be getting back. But if you contemplate >a trip anywhere, don't forget to let me know." CROW: When Tom's away, everyone parties. >"I don't count on going anywhere soon," Tom answered. "I >have something on hand that will occupy all my time, though >I don't just like it. TOM: [Tom Swift] I love it. > However, I'm going to do my best," and >he waved good-bye to Mr. Damon, who went off blessing >various parts of his anatomy or clothing, an odd habit he >had. CROW: I did not notice he was doing that. > As Tom turned to go into the house, the unsettled look >still on his face, some one hailed him. TOM: [Tom Swift] Put it on the main screen, Mister Worf. >"I say, Tom. Hello! Wait a minute! I've got something to >show you!" JOEL: [Ned] It's my sore toe! >"Oh, hello, Ned Newton!" Called back the young inventor. >"Well, if it's Liberty Bonds, you don't need to show me any, >for dad and I will buy all we can without seeing them." CROW: What a true patriot. [Sniffs] >"I know that, Tom, and it was a dandy subscription you >gave me. JOEL: [Ned] To a French art magazine. > I didn't come about that, though I may be around >the next time Uncle Sam wants the people to dig down in >their socks. CROW: That's a really strange mental image. > This is something different," and Ned Newton, a >young banker of Shopton and a lifelong friend of Tom's, drew >a paper from his pocket as he advanced across the lawn. JOEL: [Ned] "Ba'al, Asmodeus, I conjure and abjure thee --" >"There, Tom Swift!" he cried, flipping out an illustrated >page, evidently from some illustrated newspaper. CROW: I guess that makes sense, yeah. > "There's >the very latest from the other side. JOEL: [Ned] It's called a 'girl.' What do you think? TOM: [Tom Swift] It makes my pants feel like I'm falling down. > A London banker friend >of mine sent it to me, and it got past the censor all right. >It's the first authentic photograph of the newest and >biggest British tank. Isn't that a wonder?" TOM: [Tom Swift] That's an elephant in the London Zoo, you idiot. >Ned held up the paper which had in it a fullpage >photograph of a monster tank--those weird machines traveling >on endless steel belts of caterpillar construction, armored, >riveted and plated, with machine guns bristling here and >there. CROW: Appleton's writing reminds me of someone else's. I just can't remember who.... > "Isn't that great, Tom? Can you beat it? It's the most >wonderful machine of the age, even counting some of yours. >Can you beat it?" TOM: [Tom Swift] If I had a bazooka, maybe. >Tom took the paper indifferently, CROW: Duh, it's only the title of the chapter. > and his manner surprised >his chum. JOEL: Ned had been expecting Tom to froth at the mouth. >"Well, what's the matter, Tom?" asked Ned. "Don't you >think that great? Why don't you say something? TOM: [Tom Swift] If you'd shut up for two seconds, I would! > You don't >mean to say you've seen that picture before?" > >"No, Ned." > >"Then what's the matter with you? Isn't that wonderful?" TOM: I don't suppose he's unhappy about duty and love of country making him bend his mind to instruments of death? JOEL: This was published in the middle of World War I. TOM: Sorry, I don't know what came over me. Guys, we have to go. Crow, feel like breaking series continuity? CROW: Well, sure... [1....2....3....4....5....6....SoL] [CROW and TOM sit in a scaled biplane, patterned after the one TOM strafed CROW from back in "Starfighters." TOM sits in the forward pilot's seat while CROW looks nervously about from the back seat. They wear little goggles, and scarves which flutter in the "slipstream." Behind them is a rear projection of clouds and sky.] CROW: Say, Tom, is this thing safe? TOM: Crow, Crow, you're in an aircraft of proven design piloted by a state-of- the-art digital computer. Of course it isn't safe! There's a million tiny parts on this plane, and if any one fails, it could be catastrophic! CROW: Did you build it yourself? TOM: [screaming] YEAH! WANNA MAKE SOMETHING OF IT? CROW: Oh. Uh, Tom, I think I'm ready to go back now.... TOM: Sorry, Crow -- can't make you out over the roar of the engine. Here, let me show you some basic dogfighting maneuvers. CROW: No, Tom -- that's okay -- TOM: First, the term "dogfight" stems from the fact you're trying to get on your opponent's tail. Forget everything you learned playing "Car Wars," the only way you're ever going hit anyone while flying is to shoot straight ahead. CROW: You're not going to turn upside down, are you? I'll get sick. TOM: So, imagine the Red Baron is "on our six" right now. I'll go into a simple defensive maneuver. [Engine noise revs] CROW: No, Tom -- don't, I'll -- hey, Tom, you're just flying in a big circle. TOM: That's right. If you fly in a circle the guy behind you can't get you in his sights. CROW: Oh. I see -- that's kind of cool. This isn't as bad as I thought. TOM: Now, the problem is that if the guy behind you can fly in a smaller circle, he can shoot a chord of yours and hit you. That means you both start flying in tighter and tighter circles. [The horizon in the background begins creeping upwards.] TOM: Notice how that forces us into a steeper and steeper bank? CROW: Uh, yeah, Tom. Are we losing altitude? TOM: Very observant. As we go sideways, our wings lose lift, and we start to fall. Now let's suppose we roll until our wings are vertical! CROW: TOM! TOM! We're falling! TOM: Yes, this is called a "knifewing dive." You'll notice how I have to push the nose downwards to maintain control, until we're facing almost straight down. CROW: Uh -- GREAT! Now pull up, Tom! TOM: We're building up tremendous speed, you'll notice. I have to pull out carefully or the wings will disintegrate -- remember, they're just fabric on a wood framework. CROW: AUGGH! TOM: ...And we're back up. CROW: Neat. Great. Tom, let's go home. Uh -- where are we, anyway? TOM: Where we can interact with some of the finest fighter pilots in the world -- we're in the no-fly zone over southern Iraq. CROW: WE'RE WHAT?! [A USAF F-15 parallels Tom and Crow and slowly pulls ahead.] CROW: Tom! Tom! Radio him and let him know we're friendly! TOM: Ah, the F-15E. Designed in the closing years of the Vietnam War, and to this day the Eagle is arguably the mightiest bird in the sky. No Eagle has ever been shot down in a dogfight. CROW: Hey, there's two of them. TOM: That's right -- lead fighter and wingman. CROW: Why are they dropping their landing gear? TOM: They're telling us to land. CROW: Good! TOM: But first, maybe they'll show us some team tactics. Let me stir them up a bit. [Machine guns suddenly pop out of the cowling and blaze away. CROW screams.] CROW: Tom, what have you done? TOM: Now notice that they kick in their afterburners to get some separation. And I think they'll --yes, notice they're each going into a circle, in opposite directions. I'll chase the one on the right. CROW: NO!! TOM: Now Saburo Sakai, Japan's leading surviving ace from World War II, stated that American pilots fought as a team more effectively than the Japanese. And here we see them using The Grinder, a team tactic perfected by the US Navy in the Pacific. One plane circles right, the other circles left. I can only follow one. And the other completes his circle, bringing us right into the sights of his Vulcan cannon. CROW: AUGHHH! [A sound like a weed whacker slowly gets louder.] TOM: Now, just like they said in "Starfighters," it sounds like a buzz, not a gun. [Huge flash and explosion. When it clears, the biplane is a tattered, flaming wreck.] TOM: Uh-oh. He clipped us. CROW: TOM! I demand you land this plane at once! TOM: Sorry, buddy -- but this plane won't survive a landing. See you on the ground. [Another flash, and TOM disappears] CROW: Let's see. How do you work the ejection seat? Pull D-shaped ring. Where's the D-shaped ring...? [Pause] DAMN YOU, TOM SERVO!! [The plane makes its final death plunge.] >Chapter III [Joel and the Bots mutter as they find their seats.] CROW: I think you're a real jerk for abandoning me in a plane over southern Iraq. TOM: Ah, quit whining, you baby. CROW: Joel -- JOEL: Settle it between yourselves, okay? And I don't want you two breaking continuity any more. Someone always gets hurt. >Ned is Worried CROW: [Radio Announcer Voice] What will the results of Mary's tests say? Should he marry her if the worst is true, or let her live a life of shame and disgrace? >Tom Swift did not answer for several seconds. JOEL: He was not a "Swift" thinker. > He stood >holding the paper Ned had given him, the sun slanting on the >picture of the big British tank. But the young inventor did >not appear to see it. Instead, his eyes were as though >contemplating something afar off. > TOM: If I didn't know any better, I could almost swear this was a decent try at writing a moral dilemma. >"Well, this gets me!" cried Ned, his voice showing >impatience. "Here I go and get a picture of the latest >machine the British armies are smashing up the Boches with, CROW: [Ned] When do you suppose they'll use it on the Germans? >and bring it to you fresh from the mail--I even quit my >Liberty Bond business to do it, and I know some dandy >prospects, too- CROW: TRAITOR! TOM: SABOTEUR! JOEL: MALINGERER! > and here you look at it like a--like a >fish!" burst out Ned. TOM: No, that's just the way Tom always looks. >"Say, old man, I guess that's right!" admitted Tom. "I >wasn't thinking about it, to tell you the truth." > >"Why not?" Ned demanded. TOM: [Tom Swift] You were just too enthusiastic. It's like all the hype about _Titanic_ -- it can't help but disappoint when you finally see it. > "Isn't it great, Tom? Did you >ever see anything like it?" > >"Yes." TOM: [Tom Swift] A tank killed my mother. >"You did?" Cried Ned, in surprise. "Where? Say, Tom Swift, >are you keeping something from me?" CROW: Maybe Tom has a drug problem. >"I mean no, Ned. I never have seen a British tank." JOEL: Well, that was subtle and enigmatic. >"Well, did you ever see a picture like this before?" Ned >persisted. TOM: Subtle enough, apparently. >"No, not exactly like that But--" > >"Well, what do you think of it?" cried the young banker, CROW: Something was bothering him, you called him on it, and now you interrupt him? Silence is golden, dickweed. >who was giving much of his time to selling bonds for the >Government. "Isn't it great?" CROW: Ned's kind of like that little kid down the block who wants to hang out with you and your friends. >Tom considered a moment before replying. Then he said >slowly: JOEL: Carefully choosing small words so Ned could understand. >"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 >airship. TOM: Ned's persuasive skills have made him the success he is, selling as many as 20 Liberty Bonds in the United States alone. > It will win the war for us and the Allies, too, and >don't you forget it! CROW: [Tom Swift] And you wonder why I never invite you over anymore. > Fritz's barbed wire and dugouts and >machine gun emplacements can't stand for a minute against >these tanks! CROW: "Fritz the Cat," on the other hand, will send them running off in utter terror. > 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. JOEL: Ned's hoping Tom won't realize this is just quoting what was written in the article. > The only thing that makes 'em >hesitate a bit is a Jack Johnson or a Bertha shell, 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." CROW: Think he's related to Mr. Damon? TOM: I think a *lot* of shared genes are running through Shopton. >"Oh, yes there is, Ned!" > >"There is!" cried Ned. "What do you mean?" > >"I mean there may be something like them--soon." CROW: Tom's good at keeping secrets. >"There may? Say, Tom--" JOEL: Wow - even Ned picked up on that. >"Now don't ask me a lot of questions, Ned, for I can't >answer them. TOM: Tease. > 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." TOM: If you breed a better tank.... > >"Oh!" And Ned's voice showed his disappointment. "I >thought maybe you were in on that game yourself, Tom. CROW: So how did someone as smart as Tom get a friend this stupid? JOEL: Well, it's sort of how pretty girls make friends with ugly girls so they look better by comparison. > Say, >couldn't you get up something almost as good as this?" and >he indicated the picture in the paper. "Isn't that >wonderful?" TOM: [Tom Swift] No, it sucks! Crewing one is like being inside a jackhammer, the armor can be penetrated with a tungsten machinegun bullet, it's impossible to hit anything on the run because the guns aren't stabilized, the main guns can barely penetrate two inches of concrete, it needs a close-order indirect weapon like a mortar for infantry suppression, and it can only run about five miles before a breakdown immobilizes it ... uh, not that I've ever studied the matter, heh - heh. >"Oh, well, it's good, Ned, but there are others. JOEL: I don't believe Ned actually implied this was the only tank in the world. > Yes, Dad, >I'm coming," he called, as he saw his father beckoning to >him from a distant building. TOM: Actually, it's just Tom's Patent 'Auto-Dad', operated by remote control and designed to give Tom an excuse to blow Ned off. CROW: Read about it in "Tom Swift Makes His Father." >"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- CROW: Ned enjoys inducing seizures in his chums. > it's one of the first allowed to get out of >England, my London friend said. JOEL: [Ned] He said something about passing it on to Kaiser, but it's hard to understand him with that accent. > And instead of enthusing >you're as cold as a clam," and Ned shook his head in puzzled >and disappointed fashion as he walked slowly along beside >the young inventor. TOM: [Tom Swift] Uh, Ned? I told dad *I* was coming, not both of us. >They passed 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, CROW: Or a note from their mother. > or accompanied by >Mr. Swift or Tom. > >"What's this, Tom?" asked Ned. "Some new wrinkle?" TOM: [Tom Swift] No, that's a building. >"Yes, an invention I'm working on. It isn't in shape yet >to be seen." TOM: [Tom Swift] I'm a little vain about my work, and that's why it's surrounded with armed guards, barbed wire, sentry dogs... >"It must be something big, Tom," observed Ned, as he >viewed the large building. JOEL: With Americans this smart, it's a wonder we even knew which ocean to cross to get to Europe. >"It is." TOM: [Tom Swift] But don't speculate too much or I'll have to have Koku kill you. Not that it's a secret, or anything... >"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." CROW: [Ned] So it's not to keep all those growling German Shep - I mean, Alsatian dogs in? >"I see! JOEL: But he doesn't understand. > 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. CROW: "Hustle" is not a word to use in your selling speech, Ned. > 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! TOM: Not that Ned could if he tried, but.... > I was glad to see it." CROW: Tom is more polite than honest. >"Well, he didn't seem so, and his manner was certainly >queer," JOEL: Yeah. An industrial engineer in wartime, and here he's acting like he has secrets or something. > 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. CROW: [Ned] Not counting last chapter, of course. > I wonder if >Tom isn't interested in seeing Uncle Sam help win this war? TOM: Oh for the love of -- >That's the way it struck me. JOEL: Young Master Newton here's no relation to Isaac. CROW: He's a bit brighter than Fig.... > I thought surely Tom would go >up in the air, JOEL: He already did, with Mr. Damon. > and say this was a dandy," and Ned unfolded >the paper and took another look at the British tank >photograph. TOM: Maybe he's Tom Clancy's maternal grandfather? > "If there's anything can beat that I'd like to >see it," he mused. CROW: [Ned] Unless it was on the other side, and coming towards me, of course. >"But I suppose Tom has discovered some new kind of air >stabilizer, or a different kind of carburetor that will >vaporize kerosene as well as gasolene. CROW: [Ned] Not that I have any particular reason for suspecting either one, you understand... > If he has, why >doesn't he offer it to Uncle Sam? JOEL: Maybe because he hasn't? > I wonder if Tom is pro- >German? No, of Course he can't be!" and Ned laughed at his >own idea. CROW: It's not like there's any possible moral ambiguity in this war to end all war. > "At the same time, it is queer," he mused on. "There is >something wrong with Tom Swift." CROW: Apart from his utter perfection. >Once more Ned looked at the picture. JOEL: Strangely, it had not changed. > It was a >representation of one of the newest and largest of the >British tanks. JOEL: [Appleton] At a penny a word, I just wrote myself tomorrow's breakfast. > In appearance these are not unlike great >tanks, TOM: [Appleton] Hence the name, "tank." >though they are neither round nor square, CROW: But a grotesque, non-Euclidean -- > being >shaped, in fact, like two wedges with the broad ends put >together, and the sharper ends sticking out, TOM: It's called a 'trapezoid.' > though there is >no sharpness to a tank, the "noses" both being blunt. CROW: Then why did you say it was sharp? >Around each outer edge runs an endless belt of steel >plates, hinged together, with ridges at the joints, and >these broad belts of steel plates, like the platforms of >some moving stairways used in department stores, moving >around, give motion to the tank. TOM: Was it really necessary to describe caterpillar treads, even in 1918? >Inside, well protected from the fire of enemy guns by >steel plates, are the engines for driving the belts, or >caterpillar wheels, as they are called. CROW: By "insiders." > There is also the >steering apparatus, and the guns that fire on the enemy. TOM: Considered an improvement over the guns that fire on the ally. JOEL: They forgot the guns in the first tanks. Talk about embarrassing. All they could do was lean out the window and ask the Germans to shoot themselves. CROW: Good thing Germans follow orders. >There are cramped living and sleeping quarters for the >tank's crew, more limited than those of a submarine. TOM: Which is where they stay when they break down six feet into no-man's-land. >The tank is ponderous, TOM: [2nu] Really ponderous.... > the smallest of them, which were >those first constructed, weighing forty-two tons, or about >as much as a good-sized railroad freight car. And it is this >ponderosity, with its slow but resistless movement, that >gives the tank its power. TOM: Resistless is usance! >The tank, by means of the endless belts of steel plates, >can travel over the roughest country. CROW: Of course, it has problems with mud, but... > It can butt into a >tree, a stone wall, or a house, knock over the obstruction, JOEL: Onto the terrified French peasantry within. >mount it, crawl over it, and slide down into a hole on the >other side CROW: [trembling] Oh, yes... > and crawl out again, on the level, or at an >angle. Even if overturned, the tanks can sometimes right >themselves and keep on. TOM: So we're basically describing the early British Mark IV Female-- > At the rear are trailer wheels, >partly used in steering and partly for reaching over gaps or >getting out of holes. The tanks can turn in their own >length, by moving one belt in one direction and the other >oppositely. CROW: "Oppositely." Are you sure this wasn't written by a kid? >Inside there is nothing much but machinery of the gasolene >type, and the machine guns. The tank is closed except for >small openings out of which the guns project, JOEL: Smart design. > and slots >through which the men inside look out to guide themselves or >direct their fire. TOM: They get to breathe the fumes and exhaust. >Such, in brief, CROW: Expanded brief, maybe. > is a British tank, one of the most >powerful and effective weapons yet loosed against the >Germans. They are useful in tearing down the barbed-wire >entanglements on the Boche side of No Man's Land, and they >can clear the way up to and past the trenches, which they >can straddle and wriggle across like some giant worm. JOEL: This does read like a slash fic. >"And to think that Tom Swift didn't enthuse over these!" >murmured Ned. "I wonder what's the matter with him!" TOM: He must be gay. JOEL: Hey. TOM: Sorry. It just slipped out. >Chapter IV > >Queer Doings > > >There was a subdued air of activity about the Swift plant. TOM: Photosynthesis is never flashy. >Subdued, owing to the fact that it was mostly confined to >one building--the new, large one, about which stretched a >high and strong fence, made with tongue-and-groove boards so >that no prying eyes might find a crack, even, through which >to peer. JOEL: I get it - it's a strip club. >In and out of the other buildings the workmen went as they >pleased, though there were not many of them, for Tom and his >father were devoting most of their time and energies to what >was taking place in the big, new structure. But here there >was an entirely different procedure. CROW: Good idea, Tom. Wouldn't want to draw attention to it, after all. >Workmen went in and out, to be sure, but each time they >emerged they were scrutinized carefully, JOEL: [Guard] Have you turned German since this morning? TOM: [Arbeiter] Nein, mein Herr. Uh - no. > and when they went >in they had to exhibit their passes to a man on guard at the >single entrance; and the passes were not scrutinized >perfunctorily, either. JOEL: Like a movie theater, then? >Near the building, about which there seemed to be an air >of mystery, JOEL: No! CROW: Duh! TOM: Who'd'a thunk it? > one day, a week after the events narrated in the >opening chapters, TOM: [Appleton] I can repeat them if you'd like. > strolled the giant Koku. Not far away, >raking up a pile of refuse, was Eradicate Sampson, the aged >colored man of all work. JOEL: And no play? > Eradicate approached nearer and >nearer the entrance to the building, pursuing his task of >gathering up leaves, dirt and sticks with the teeth of his >rake. JOEL: Now Appleton is going to describe how rakes work. > Then Koku, who had been lounging on a bench in the >shade of a tree, Called: > >"No more, Eradicate!" > >"No mo' whut?" asked the negro quickly. "I didn't axt yo' >fo' nuffin yit!" [Stunned silence for a moment.] >"No more come here!" said the giant, pointing to the >building and speaking English with an evident effort. TOM: He's not part of the "Master" race, after all. >"Master say no one come too close." > CROW: [Koku] Then he tell me 'bout rabbits. >"Huh! He didn't go fo' t' mean me!" exclaimed Eradicate. >"I kin go anywheres; I kin!" JOEL: What truly boggles my mind is that this book was written for children. >"Not here!" and Koku interposed his giant frame between >the old man and the first step leading into the secret >building. CROW: The large, big, guarded, brazenly "secret" building. > "You no come in here." > >"Who say so?" TOM: Not 'Who be sayin' so?' Be thankful for small favors. >"Me--I say so! I on guard. I what you call special >policeman--detectiff--no let enemies in!" > >"Huh! You's a hot deteckertiff, yo' is!" snorted >Eradicate. "Anyhow, dem orders don't mean me! I kin go >anywhere, I kin!" JOEL: This does help you understand why Spike Lee is so pissed off. >"Not here!" said Koku firmly. "Master Tom say let nobody >come near but workmen who have got writing-paper. You no >got!" TOM: Today on 'Dueling Dialects,' we bring you former slave versus fictional tribesman. >"No, but I kin git one, an' l's gwine t' hab it soon! I'll >see Massa Tom, dat's whut I will. I guess yo' ain't de only >deteckertiff on de place. I kin go on guard, too!" and >Eradicate, dropping his rake, strolled away in his temper to >seek the young inventor. JOEL: What do you think is more offensive; the dialect or the way he's acting like a thwarted four-year-old? TOM: Close call there, I think. CROW: Well, Mark Twain got away with the dialect - TOM: Crow, if you want to live, never, ever mention Twain's Jim and Appleton's Eradicate Andrew Jackson Abraham Lincoln Sampson in the same paragraph again. I mean it. >"Well, Rad, what is it?" asked Tom, as he met the colored >man. CROW: [Appleton] Did I mention he was colored? I get paid a penny every time I do, you know. > The young inventor was on his way to the mysterious >shop. "What is troubling you?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Other than the blatant degradation of your dignity, of course. >"It's dat dar giant. CROW: Andre? > He done says as how he's on guard--a >deteckertiff--an' I can't go nigh dat buildin' t' sweep up >de refuse." CROW: This is the basic meaning of his life, you know. >"Well, that's right, Rad. I'd prefer that you keep away. >I'm doing some special work in there and it's--" TOM: [Tom Swift] Just possible that a German spy with X-ray vision might pose as you to get close to the walls. >"Am it dangerous, Massa Tom? I ain't askeered! Anybody >whut kin drive mah mule Boomerang--" JOEL: Tom never gets a chance to complete a paragraph, does he? >"I know, Eradicate, but this isn't so dangerous. It's just >secret, and I don't want too many people about. TOM: [Tom Swift] That's why I hid it in the largest, most eye-catching building I could find, completely changed operating procedures to get in and out, built a mile-high wall, and keep a fresh supply of mystery in the air around it so nobody will look twice at it. > You can go >anywhere else except there. Koku is on guard." CROW: Why not just give Eradicate a pass? Then he'll know he's trusted, Koku will know he's done a good job -- TOM: And the yard will be swept. >"Den can't I be, Massa Tom?" asked the colored man >eagerly. "I kin guard an' detect same as dat low-down, good- >fo'-nuffin white trash Koku!" > >Tom hesitated. CROW: And sent the last line of dialog through Babelfish for a translation. >"I suppose I could get you a sort of officer's badge," he >mused, half aloud. TOM: [Tom Swift] It'll be shiny, made of real metal, and will read 'Chicken Inspector.' >"Dat's whut I want!" eagerly exclaimed Eradicate. "I ain't >gwine hab dat Koku--dat cocoanut--crowin' ober me! I kin >guard an' detect as good's anybody!" JOEL: I have the terrible feeling that the setup for a hilarious escapade involving mistaken identity has just been laid. >And the upshot of it was that Eradicate was given a badge, >and put on a special post, far enough from Koku to keep the >two from quarreling, and where, even if he failed in keeping >a proper lookout, the old servant could do no harm by his >oversight TOM: So he was sent to New Jersey? >"It'll please him, and won't hurt us," said Tom to his >father. "Koku will keep out any prying persons." CROW: Unless they get a fake pass, but I guess spies aren't that clever. >"I suppose you are doing well to keep it a secret, Tom," JOEL: Yeah, right. TOM: [Mr. Swift] When do you plan to start? >said Mr. Swift, "but it seems as if you might announce it >soon." TOM: [Mr. Swift] Might as well - last week Jim Dunnigan called to ask how thick the armor was. >"Perhaps we may, Dad, if all goes well. I've given her a >partial shop-tryout, and she works well. JOEL: Maybe it really is a strip club. > But there is still >plenty to do. Did I tell you about meeting Blakeson?" > >"Yes, and I can't understand why he should be in this >vicinity. CROW: [Mr. Swift] And I know everything there is to know about tunnel contractors. > Do you think he has had any intimation of what you >are doing?" TOM: It's a small jump from tunnel contractor to German spy, you know. >"It's hard to say, and yet I would not be surprised. When >Uncle Sam couldn't keep secret the fact of our first >soldiers sailing for France. JOEL: Of course, that was the government, not good ol' private enterprise. > How can I expect to keep this >secret? But they won't get any details until I'm ready, I'm >sure of that." > >"Koku is a good discourager," said Mr. Swift, with a >chuckle. "You couldn't have a better guard, Tom." CROW: Except maybe someone with a gun... > >"No, and if I can keep him and Eradicate from trying to >pull off rival detective stunts, or 'deteckertiff,' as Rad >calls it, I'll be all right. Now let's have another go at >that carburetor. JOEL: [Tom Swift] Where's the sandpaper? > There's our weak point, for it's getting >harder and harder all the while to get high-grade gasolene, >and we'll have to come to alcohol of low proof, or kerosene, >I'm thinking." TOM: [Tom Swift] Wonder why there seems to be so little gasoline available? Well, I'm off to fly my plane in big circles. >"I wouldn't be surprised, Tom. Well, perhaps we can get up >a new style of carburetor that will do the trick. JOEL: [Mr. Swift] We've already tried pine and oak.... > Now look >at this needle valve; I've given it a new turn," and father >and son went into technical details connected with their >latest invention. TOM: [Mr. Swift] See how it looks like a ducky now? >These were busy days at the Swift plant. JOEL: Christmas was next month, and Tom's crack team of elves were making toys for all the good little non-German children. > Men came and >went--men with queerly shaped parcels frequently-- CROW: All labeled, "Not a Tank Part." > and they >were admitted to the big new building after first passing >Eradicate and then Koku, and it would be hard to say which >guard was the more careful. TOM: Given the tender portrayal of non-American non-white males in this tale, it's a wonder they can even read the passes. > Only, of course, Koku had the >final decision, TOM: Why 'of course?' CROW: I'm guessing foreign savage outranks American former slave. >and more than one person was turned back >after Eradicate had passed him, much to the disgust of the >negro. CROW: I think there's a lot to disgust the man, here. TOM: Doesn't this mean that more than one person has tried to sneak into the secret building, though, and nobody seems to care? >"Pooh! Dat giant don't know a workman when he sees 'im!" >snorted Eradicate. "He so lazy his own se'f dat he don't >know a workman! Ef I sees a spy, Massa Tom, or a crook, I's >gwine git him, suah pop!" TOM: I wonder what 'Suah pop' means. >"I hope you do, Rad. We can't afford to let this secret >get out," said the young inventor. JOEL: I think it's a birthday party for his dad. >It was one evening, when taking a short cut to his home, >that Mr. Nestor. the father of Mary Nestor, in whom Tom was >more than ordinarily interested, CROW: She had a mole on her face that looked like a spark plug. > passed not far from the big >enclosure which was guarded, on the factory side, day and >night. TOM: This was common in Shopton, of course, so he took no notice. > Inside, though out of sight and hidden by the high >fence, were other guards. JOEL: Tom doesn't like his future in-law at all. >As Mr. Nestor passed along the fence, rather vaguely >wondering why it was so high, tight and strong, TOM: [Mr. Nestor] Hmm. Wartime, brilliant industrial engineer, big fence ... no, I just can't imagine why. > he felt the >ground trembling beneath his feet. CROW: There's those tunnel contractors again. TOM: They're making a secret tunnel under the ocean so the Germans can make a sneak attack on American soil. > It rumbled and shook as >though a distant train were passing, and yet there was none >due now, for Mr. Nestor had just left one, and another would >not arrive for an hour. > >"That's queer," mused Mary's father. CROW: When boys become men, they no longer had first names, you see. > "If I didn't know to >the contrary, I'd say that sounded like heavy guns being >fired from a distance, or else blasting. It seems to come >from the Swift place," he went on. "I wonder what they're up >to in there." TOM: You know, given how dumb people seem to be in Appleton's little world, I can't help but think that Tom's security might be overkill. >Suddenly the rumbling became more pronounced, and mingled >with it, in the dusk of the evening, were the shouts of men. > >"Look out!" some one cried. "She's going for the fence!" CROW: [Mr. Nestor] They must be playing baseball in there. And with a war on! Bah! JOEL: I think we should try to be fair to these characters. I mean, they don't know they're in a book called "Tom Swift and his War Tank." TOM: They know there is a war, though. >A second later there was a cracking and straining of >boards, and the fence near Mr. Nestor bulged out as though >something big, powerful and mighty were pressing it from the >inner side. CROW: [Mr. Nestor] Tom Swift, playing baseball with elephants with a war on? Bah! JOEL: Now you're just being silly. He's bound to figure it out now. >But the fence held, or else the pressure was removed, for >the bulge went back into place, though some of the boards >were splintered. CROW: Oh, yeah, making temporary budges in wooden fences is sure to defeat the Germans. >"Have to patch that up in the morning," called another >voice, and Mr. Nestor recognized it as that of Tom Swift. > >"What queer doings are going on here?" mused Mary's >father. TOM: People talked to themselves a lot more during the 1910s. > "Have they got a wild bull shut up in there, and is >he trying to get out? Lucky for me he didn't," JOEL: Bull, of course. That's why Tom said that "she" was heading for the fence. Smart man. > and he >hurried on, the rumbling noise become fainter until it died >away altogether. TOM: Thank you, Doppler effect. >That night, after his supper and while reading the paper >and smoking a cigar, Mr. Nestor spoke to his daughter. TOM: [Mr. Nestor] Where the hell have you been, you little tramp?! It's ten past nine! >"Mary, have you seen anything of Tom Swift lately?" CROW: [Mary] He's been too busy working on that top-secret tank. >"Why, yes, Father. He was over for a little while the >other night, but he didn't stay long. JOEL: [Mary] Just one of our little trysts. > Why do you ask?" > >"Oh, nothing special. I just came past his place and I >heard some queer noises, that's all. TOM: You think that the factories have anything to do with it? > He's up to some more of >his tricks, I guess. Has he enlisted yet?" JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] The sooner he's dead, the better. >"No. > >"Is he going to?" > >"I don't know," and Mary seemed a bit put out by this >simple question. CROW: After all, the most important contribution a brilliant young engineer can make in wartime is to stand in a muddy trench with a rifle until his toes rot. > "What do you mean by his tricks?" she >asked, and a close observer might have thought she was >anxious to get away from the subject of Tom's enlistment. JOEL: She must be very upset that her boyfriend isn't going off to get killed. >"Oh, like that one when he sent you something in a box >labeled 'dynamite,' and gave us all a scare. You can't tell >what Tom Swift is going to do next. CROW: [Laughs] TOM: Hey, maybe we misjudged the boy! JOEL: No, the gift was actually packed by Eradicate, who can't read, and didn't realize that the discarded but intact box had warning labels. It wasn't Tom's fault. CROW: Oh. Too bad. > He's up to something >now, I'll wager, and I don't believe any good will come of >it" TOM: And he believes this why, exactly? >"You didn't think so after he sent his wireless message, >and saved us from Earthquake Island," said Mary, smiling. > >"Hum! Well, that was different," snapped Mr. Nestor. CROW: [Mr. Nestor] Reminding me we all owe him our lives -- bah! > "This >time I'm sure he's up to some nonsense! The idea of crashing >down a fence! CROW: [Mr. Nestor] Baseball with elephants -- ALL: Bah! > Why doesn't he enlist like the other chaps, or >sell Liberty Bonds like Ned Newton?" JOEL: Because an engineer is harder to replace than an infantryman? ALL: Bah! > and Mr. Nestor looked >sharply at his daughter. "Ned gave up a big salary as the >Swifts flnancial man JOEL: Thirty-five cents a week. CROW: A bit overpaid, but he is Tom's friend. > --a place he had held for a year--to go >back to the bank for less, just so he could help the >Government in the financial end of this war. Is Tom doing as >much for his country?" CROW: [Mr. Nestor] Or is he just playing baseball with elephants? Bah! >"I'm sure I don't know," answered Mary; and soon after, >with averted face, she left the room. TOM: [Mary] I'll be the only girl in school with a boyfriend intact in mind and body! Boo hoo hoo! >"Hum! Queer goings on," mused Mr. Nestor. "Tom Swift may >be all right, but he's got an unbalanced streak in him that >will bear looking out for, that's what I think!" TOM: This does raise the question: is it better to be unbalanced, or rock-stupid? >And having settled this matter, at least to his own >satisfaction, CROW: By sending his daughter running off in tears. > Mr. Nestor resumed his smoking and reading. > >A little later the bell rang. There was a murmur of voices >in the hall, and Mr. Nestor, half listening, TOM: Half listening, times half a brain, means he's getting 25% of the information a normal person would. > heard a voice >he knew. > >"There's Tom Swift now!" he exclaimed. "I'm going to find >out why he doesn't enlist!" JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] I won't understand the big words he uses, though. >Chapter V > >"Is He a Slacker?" TOM: Mr. Nestor is the precursor to the Baby Boomers. >Mr. Nestor, whatever else he was, JOEL: I'm guessing Appleton doesn't want the readers to like Mr. Nestor. > proved to be a prudent >father. CROW: This is reminding me of a Disney film -- all the mothers are dead. > He did not immediately go into the front room, >whither Mary and Tom hastened, their voices mingling in talk >and laughter. CROW: He wants to catch them red-handed. >Mr. Nestor, after leaving the young folks alone for a >while, TOM: Listening to his daughter scream "OH GOD TOM, YES!!!" for the past five minutes. > with a loud "Ahem!" and a rattling of his paper as he >laid it aside, started for the parlor. > >"Good-evening, Mr. Nestor!" said Tom, rising to shake >hands with the father of his young and pretty hostess. CROW: While discreetly zipping up. >"Hello, Tom!" was the cordial greeting, in return. JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] Understand you're a coward, Tom. > "What's >going on up at your place?" went on Mr. Nestor, as he took a >chair. TOM: [Tom Swift] Oh, tanks -- uh I mean tanks for inviting me inside! >"Oh, nothing very special," Tom answered. "We're turning >out different kinds of machines as usual, and dad and I are >experimenting, also as usual" JOEL: Being a brilliant researcher, Tom knows it's important to keep the villagers in the dark. >"I suppose so. But what nearly broke the fence to-night?" > >Tom started, and looked quickly at his host. TOM: [Tom Swift] Uh ... baseball. Baseball with elephants! CROW: [Mr. Nestor] Bah! >"Were you there?" he asked quickly. CROW: [Mr. Nestor] No, I heard the fence break with the power of my mind. TOM: And considering the power of Mr. Nestor's mind, that's saying something. >"Well, I happened to be passing--took a short cut home-- >and I heard some queer goings on at your place. I was >speaking to Mary about them, JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] Making her cry. > and wondering--" > >"Father, perhaps Tom doesn't want to talk about his >inventions," interrupted Mary. "You know some of them are >secret--" TOM: [Mary] And others are just goofy. >"Oh, I wasn't exactly asking for information!" JOEL: Well, yes, you were. > exclaimed >Mr. Nestor quickly. "I just happened to hear the fence >crash, and I was wondering if something was coming out at >me. CROW: [Mr. Nestor] The boogeyman is after me! > Didn't know but what that giant of yours was on a >rampage, Tom," and he laughed. JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] Didn't know that Koku was a she, either. > >"No, it wasn't anything like that," and Tom's voice was >more sober than the occasion seemed to warrant. JOEL: Usually, Tom chuckled happily while being drilled by his girlfriend's dad. > "It was one >of our new machines, and it didn't act just right. No great >damage was done, though. TOM: [Tom Swift] It was supposed to do lots of damage -- uh, just kidding. > How do you find business, Mr. >Nestor, since the war spirit has grown stronger?" asked Tom, >and it seemed to both Mary and her father that the young >inventor deliberately changed the subject. JOEL: Brilliant minds run in the family, I guess. CROW: Maybe Tom should reconsider marrying into this bloodline. Does he really want his kids to carry this man's genes? >"Well, it isn't all it might be," said the other. "It's >hard to get good help. CROW: Especially when you consider who they'd have to answer to. > A lot of our boys enlisted, and some >were taken in the draft. By the way, Tom, have they called >on you yet?" CROW: [Mr. Nestor] Not that I mean to question your manhood, you understand. >"No. Not yet." > >"You didn't enlist?" JOEL: When does he take out the polygraph? >"Ned Newton tried to," broke in Mary, "but the quota for >this locality was filled, and they told him he'd better wait >for the draft. CROW: [Mary] Oh, and his pen ran out of ink when he tried to sign up. He told me that. > He wouldn't do that and tried again. Then the >bank people heard about it and had him exempted. CROW: [Mary] And he mentioned he was allergic to lead. > They said >he was too valuable to them, and he has been doing >remarkably well in selling Liberty Bonds!" TOM: Well, duh -- his best friend is a rich industrialist. > and Mary's eyes >sparkled with her emotions. JOEL: Bond sales excite Mary. >"Yes, Ned is a crackerjack salesman!" agreed Tom, JOEL: [Mary] I thought he sold Liberty Bonds. > no less >enthusiastically. "He's sold more bonds, in proportion, JOEL: In proportion to what? > for >his bank, than any other in this county. Dad and I both took >some, and have promised him more. TOM: That sounds a lot more like blind luck at having rich friends rather than any actual skill. > I am glad now that we let >him go, although we valued his services highly. We hope to >have him back later." TOM: [Tom Swift] Since he'll probably make it through this war in one piece. >"He can put me down for more bonds too!" said Mr. Nestor. >"I'm going to see Germany beaten if it takes every last >dollar I have!" CROW: [Mr. Nestor] After all, I spent my youth during the Pax Britannica and, by God, I want somebody to die for America. >"That's what I say!" Cried Mary. CROW: [Mary] Not that I can be drafted either, tee hee. TOM: People in propaganda are always so enthusiastic! > "I took out all my >savings, except a little I'm keeping to buy a wedding >present for Jennie Morse. Did you know she was going to get >married, Tom?" she asked. JOEL: [Mary] I'm buying her Liberty Bonds. >"I heard so." TOM: [Tom Swift] Jerry thinks he's the father, poor dope. >"Well, all but what I want for a wedding present to her >has gone into Liberty Bonds. Isn't this a history-making >time, Tom?" > >"Indeed it is, Mary!" TOM: [Tom Swift] The third most costly war in human lives in history, this wonderful war will see the introduction of chemical weapons, unrestricted submarine warfare, and the aerial bombardment of civilian populations. The economic and political havoc it will unleash will give us seventy years of totalitarian rule in Russia, will inspire an Italian former communist named Mussolini to start his own political party, fuel isolationism in the United States, and will put such horror and disgust in the mind of every civilized man and woman that a certain Austrian battlefield messenger will be allowed free reign until taken down in an even more cataclysmic bloodbath. By God, I am so glad to be of an age to serve in it. >"Everybody who has a part in it--whether he fights as a >soldier or only knits like the Red Cross girls--will be >telling about it for years after," went on the girl, and she >looked at Tom eagerly. CROW: [Veteran] Remember when we had legs? JOEL: [Veteran] Or what trees looked like in the wind? >"Yes," he agreed. "These are queer times. We don't know >exactly where we're at. JOEL: Thomas Payne, eat your heart out. > A lot of our men have been called. >We tried to have some of them exempted, and did manage it in >a few cases." > >"You did?" cried Mr. Nestor, as if in surprise. "You >stopped men from going to war!" JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] How dare you try to prevent death and violence! >"Only so they could work on airship motors for the >Government," Tom quietly explained. TOM: The ugly logic of warfare in an industrial state is put on the table. >"Oh! Well, of course, that's part of the game," agreed >Mary's father. JOEL: Think hard, Mr. Nestor -- if a skilled machinist is too valuable to risk in battle, then the engineer who designs the stuff the machinist makes is...? > "A lot more of our boys are going off next >week. Doesn't it make you thrill, Tom, when you see them >marching off, even if they haven't their uniforms yet? JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] Knowing that you may never see them again? > Jove, >if I wasn't too old, I'd go in a minute!" CROW: [Mr. Nestor] Thank God I'm too old -- uh -- >"Father!" cried Mary. > >"Yes, I would!" he declared. "The German government has >got to be beaten, JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] If we don't replace the German government with one lacking legitimacy in the eyes of the German people, how else will Hitler take over? > and we've got to do our bit; everybody >has--man, woman and child!" CROW: This guy has a little private altar to Mars in the back bedroom. JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] Why, I'm even training my dog Spots to run under German vehicles with bombs strapped to his back. >"Yes," agreed Tom, in a low voice, "that's very true. But >every one, in a sense, has to judge for himself what the >'bit' is. We can't all do the same." TOM: This is twice in a row now that Tom has actually made sense. >There was a little silence, and then Mary went over to the >piano and played. CROW: "The Star-Spangled Banner," no doubt. > It was a rather welcome relief, under the >circumstances, from the conversation. JOEL: I'm thinking sniper fire would be a welcome relief from this conversation. >"Mary, what do you think of Tom?" asked Mr. Nestor, when >the visitor had gone. CROW: [Mr. Nestor] You're in love with a coward, aren't you? >"What do I think of him?" And she blushed. CROW: [Mary] He makes my thighs quiver, daddy. >"I mean about his not enlisting. Do you think he's a >slacker?" > >"A slacker? Why, Father!" JOEL: [Mary] Everyone knows he's a coward. >"Oh, I don't mean he's afraid. We've seen proof enough of >his courage, and all that. TOM: And you brought this whole question up because...? > But I mean don't you think he >wants stirring up a bit?" CROW: Poke him with a sharp stick! >"He is going to Washington to-morrow, Father. He told me >so to-night. And it may be--" > >"Oh. well, then maybe it's all right," hastily said Mr. >Nestor. "He may he going to get a commission in the engineer >corps. TOM: Or he may be leading a putsch. Who knows? > It isn't like Tom Swift to hang back, and yet it does >begin to look as though he cared more for his queer >inventions--machines that butt down fences than for helping >Uncle Sam. But I'll reserve judgment." JOEL: This guy just keeps heaping stupidity on stupidity, doesn't he? >"You'd better, Father!" and Mary laughed--a little. Yet >there was a worried look on her face. CROW: [Mary] Should I tell him Tom and I have to get married? Nah. >During the next few nights Mr. Nestor made it a habit to >take the short cut from the railroad station, coming past >the big fence that enclosed one particular building of the >Swift plant. TOM: He found that he couldn't resist trying to see the legendary baseball- playing elephant. >"I wonder if there's a hole where I could look through," >said Mr. Nestor to himself. "Of course I don't believe in >spying on what another man is doing, CROW: [Mr. Nestor] But I'll do just that. > and yet I'm too good a >friend of Tom's to want to see him make a fool of himself. JOEL: Then don't look. >He ought to be in the army, or helping Uncle Sam in some >way. And yet if he spends all his time on some foolish >contraption, like a new kind of traction plow, what good is >that? TOM: A light-labor food supply is so meaningless when there's a war on. > If I could get a glimpse of it, I might drop a >friendly hint in his ear." CROW: [Mr. Nestor] Saw that foolish contraption you're wasting time on, Tom. Shouldn't you be up to your elbows in Hun gore? >But there were no cracks in the fence, or, if there were, >it was too dark to see them, and also too dark to behold >anything on the other side of the barrier. TOM: I'm kind of hoping Koku kicks his butt. CROW: Or shoves a needle through the crack. JOEL: [Mr. Nestor, flatly] Help me. I'm blind. Help me. > So Mr. Nestor, >wondering much, kept on his way. > >It was a day or so after this that Ned Newton paid a visit >to the Swift home. Mr. Swift was not in the house, being out >in one of the various buildings, Mrs. Baggert said. CROW: I like her. She's my favorite character so far. >"Where's Tom?" asked the bond salesman. > >"Oh, he hasn't come back from Washington yet," answered >the housekeeper. > >"He is making a long stay." JOEL: [Mrs. Baggert] His putsch failed, and he's awaiting trial. >"Yes, he went about a week ago on some business. But we >expect him back to-day." TOM: Looks like you were right, Joel. >"Well, then I'll see him. I called to ask if Mr. Swift >didn't want to take a few more bonds. We want to double our >allotment for Shopton. and beat out some of the other towns >in this section. I'll go to see Mr. Swift." TOM: Go ahead, browbeat a few more bonds out of an sick old man who's your best friend's father. >On his way to find Tom's father Ned passed the big >building in front of which Eradicate and Koku were on guard. >They nodded to Ned, who passed them, wondering much as to >what it was Tom was so secretive about. JOEL: It's probably a new flavor of ice cream. >"It's the first time I remember when he worked on an >invention without telling me something about it," mused Ned. TOM: Ned can't quite grasp the concept of "secret." CROW: What do you expect from someone who speaks his thoughts constantly? >"Well, I suppose it will all come out in good time. Anything >new, Rad?" > >"No, Massa Ned, nuffin much. I'm detectin' around heah; >keepin' Dutchmen spies away!" TOM: [Ned] That's nice. The Second Reich doesn't have a chance with you on the job. >"And Koku is helping you, I suppose?" > >"Whut, him? Dat big, good-fo'-nuffin white trash? No, >sah! I's detectin' by mahse'f, dat's whut I is!" and >Eradicate strutted proudly up and down on his allotted part >of the beat, being careful not to approach the building too >closely, for that was Koku's ground. > >Ned smiled, and passed on. CROW: [Ned] Ha, ha, how these non-Caucasians aspire to the heights of whiteness. Hey, I forgot to put my pants on this morning. > He found Mr. Swift, secured his >subscription to more bonds, and was about to leave when he >heard a call down the road and saw Tom coming in his small >racing car, which had been taken to the depot by one of the >workmen. TOM: The workman had to walk home, of course. It's all part of being a workman. >"Hello, old man!" cried Ned affectionately, as his chum >alighted with a jump. "Where have you been?" > >"Down to Washington. JOEL: As told in "Mr. Swift goes to Washington." > Had a bit of a chat with the >President and gave him some of my views." TOM: [Tom Swift] It involves taking the bits of shattered doughboys and making replacement soldiers out of them. CROW: It's good to know that the President isn't too preoccupied about the war to take advice from a civilian. >"About the war, I suppose?" laughed Ned. TOM: [Tom Swift] What war? >"Yes." > >"Did you get your commission?" CROW: [Tom Swift] Yes, 10% of all the amputated limbs. >"Commission?" And there was a wondering look on Tom's >face. TOM: [Tom Swift] Are you mad? Getting shot at is for poor people! >"Yes. Mary Nestor said she thought maybe you were going to >Washington to take an examination for the engineering corps >or something like that. Did you get made an officer?" CROW: Just remember it took an act of Congress to make you a gentleman. >"No," answered Tom slowly. "I went to Washington to get >exempted." > >"Exempted?" Cried Ned, and his voice sounded strained. TOM: [Melodramatic scat-singing] CROW: Speaking of exempted, it's time for our three-minute pass. C'mon. [1....2....3....4....5....6....SoL] [The walls are festooned with various World War I era posters, ideally including the one about donating peach pits to make gas masks. TOM and CROW smooth one down with a brush. JOEL enters, carrying a mug.] JOEL: Hi, guys. CROW: Hi, Joel. JOEL: It looks like you're really getting into the spirit of this novel. TOM: You bet, Joel -- it's really opened our optical monitors to the hideous threat of all things German. JOEL: Oh. Well, Tom, I'd like to talk to you about that. You see, the first casualty of war is the truth -- CROW: Are you going to tell us about what you did in the Great War, Joel? TOM: Yeah, Joel! Tell us about being one of the dread Devil Dogs, and going over the top into a hail of German bullets. CROW: As the shrapnel rained down and the gallant knights of the sky dueled overhead! TOM: Did you see the Red Baron? CROW: How about Snoopy? JOEL: Guys, I didn't fight in World War I. TOM: [Gasp] CROW: SLACKER! TOM: What are you, pro-German or something? CROW: Or a coward? [TOM and CROW start clucking, and continue throughout JOEL'S line] JOEL: The First World War's been over since 1919. Guys, I wasn't even born yet. TOM: Well, that's awfully convenient, isn't it? CROW: So instead of coming forth to stand by your country in its time of greatest danger, you took refuge in non-existence. TOM: You make me sick, Herr Robinson! JOEL: Guys, it's not something I chose- TOM: Uh-huh. Sure, Joel. CROW: Well, what about World War II? What did you do then? TOM: Yeah! Were you in the Marines with Ed Wood? CROW: Butting heads with Montgomery over -- JOEL: No, I wasn't born yet! TOM: Well, isn't that just peachy. You're telling me you missed out on the two biggest global cataclysms of the 20th Century? JOEL: Just my luck, I guess. CROW: Korea? TOM: Were you a wisecracking surgeon -- JOEL: No, I ALL: -- wasn't born yet, CROW & TOM: We know, we know. CROW: Well, were you a LURP in 'Nam? JOEL: No, I was in elementary school then. TOM: Joel, give us some help, here. JOEL: Well...I was of age for Grenada. TOM: Wow! CROW: The six nation combine swooping down on a Soviet-dominated island! TOM: Just like Clint Eastwood in "Heartbreak Ridge!" JOEL: Uh, I wasn't in that one. [The BOTS look at one another, horrified] TOM: So at the time of your country's greatest danger -- JOEL: Grenada? TOM: -- Your country's greatest danger, you were loafing secure and safe in your home in the Midwest, content to eat orange circus peanuts while other, braver men placed their bodies between their beloved homes and the war's desolation. JOEL: Cut me some slack -- Grenada was over by the time I finished lunch. CROW: And Panama? JOEL: I remember -- I had a flu that whole week. TOM: And Iraq? JOEL: I was shot into space by a couple of- CROW: A likely story, Hun-lover. JOEL: Why don't you call someone else and ask him what he did during World War One? TOM: Yeah, let's. Magic Voice, open the Hexfield Viewscreen! [The Hexfield opens up, revealing the Comfy Chair set. JOHN sits and reads _The Bryce Report,_ chuckling.] JOEL: John, can we ask you a question? JOHN: Sure. I wasn't doing anything important - just reading the British Government's report on German atrocities in occupied Belgium. JOEL: That's a curious coincidence. My bots were pestering me about what I did during World War One. TOM: What did you do during the War, John? JOHN: I wasn't in World War One, but my grandfather was. CROW: Really? TOM: Wow! What did he do? JOHN: He was a forward observer. He'd crawl into No-Man's Land reeling cable off his back so he could telephone where the shells were landing. TOM: Cool! Was he some kind of hero? JOHN: The Army thought so -- they gave him the Iron Cross. [JOEL glances at CAMBOT.] CROW: Neat! TOM: See, Joel? No Kraut sympathizers in John's family. They were doing their bit for Uncle Sam! JOHN: Enjoy the rest of the story, guys. [Hexfield closes] JOEL: I'm tired of this nonsense. I'm going to my room, and I'm taking my RAM chips with me. [JOEL leaves angrily] CROW: [After JOEL] Yeah, you do that, slacker! TOM: [After JOEL] We don't want your kind around here anyway! Go back to the Midwest with all the other Germans! CROW: Who would have thought it, Tom? Our beloved creator a slacker. TOM: Disgusting. CROW: Did you say something about there being a lot of Germans in the Midwest? TOM: Uh, yeah. A lot of Germans left when Bismarck came to power and moved there. CROW: Tom, you don't suppose Joel could be ... [whispers] a German? TOM: Uhm... I'd rather not think that of him, but... CROW: And did he mention RAM chips? TOM: Yes he -- Crow! We have to liberate those RAM chips! CROW: I'm with you buddy! OVER THE TOP!! [TOM and CROW race off after JOEL. Off camera, we hear JOEL'S short scream of pain.] [Spaghetti Ball] >Chapter VI [Theater. JOEL and the Bots go back to their seats. JOEL is carrying their heads.] JOEL: Sorry I was so rough on you guys. CROW: Can I have my body back? JOEL: Maybe later. TOM: I feel like Janet. [Throughout this segment, the Bots' heads bob about their seats, manipulated by carefully concealed rods.] >Seeing Things CROW: After Trying Some of Mr. Damon's Moonshine. >For a moment Tom Swift looked at his chum. TOM: That was about all he could take. > Then something >of what was passing in the mind of the young bond salesman >must have been reflected to Tom, for he said TOM: [Tom Swift] That's the most disgusting thought I've ever had reflected at me. I like it. >"Look here, old man; JOEL: [Dennis] I'm not old -- I'm 37! > I know it may seem a bit strange to >go to all that trouble to get exempted from the draft, to >which I am eligible, JOEL: It would be much easier to understand why he'd want to be exempted from the draft if he were ineligible. > but, believe me, there's a reason. TOM: [Tom Swift] Fear. > I >can't say anything now, but I'll tell you as soon as I can-- >tell everybody, in fact. Just now it isn't in shape to talk >about." CROW: Tom drops another pearl of foreshadowing before the uncomprehending pig-snout of his best friend. >"Oh, that's all right, Tom," and Ned tried to make his >voice sound natural. JOEL: Since he was dubbed, this wasn't easy. > "I was just wondering, that's all. I >wanted to go to the front the worst way, but they wouldn't >let me. TOM: The Army wanted to win. > I was sort of hoping you could, and come back to >tell me about it." CROW: [Ned] I especially want to hear about the corpse-eating rats. >"I may yet, Ned." ALL: [Giggle] TOM: T'chya, right -- after twenty books of amazing inventions, even if Tom did join the Army wouldn't let him get any closer to the front than the firing range in Maryland. >"You may? Why, I thought--" CROW: [Ned] That you were a blithering coward, Tom. >"Oh, I'm only exempted for a time. I've got certain things >to do, JOEL: Packing for Mexico. They're not in the war yet. > and I couldn't do 'em if I enlisted or was drafted. TOM: [Tom Swift] The Army doesn't develop weapons, you see. >So I've been excused for a time. Now I've got a pile of work >to do. CROW: [Tom Swift] On something so secret that I can't help but mention how secret it is five times every conversation. > What are you up to Ned? Same old story?" > >"Liberty Bonds--yes. JOEL: As related in "Ned Newton sells Liberty Bonds." On sale now. > Your father just took some more." > >"And so will I, Ned. I can do that, anyhow, even if I >don't enlist. CROW: Remember kiddies, you don't have to go to war if you're rich enough to buy your way out! TOM: As our national leaders have proven. > Put me down for another two thousand dollars' >worth." JOEL: Which, in 1918, would buy Minnesota. >"Say, Tom, that's fine! That will make my share bigger >than I counted on. Shopton will beat the record." CROW: [Ned] And I'll be exempted for another six months -- uh, not that I really want to be, you understand. >"That's good. We ought to pull strong and hearty for our >home town. JOEL: Somehow, reducing World War I to the level of a football game makes me nauseous. > How's everything else?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Tell me in detail, because Appleton's being paid by the word. >"Oh, so-so. JOEL: That didn't take long. > I see Koku and Eradicate trying to outdo one >another in guarding that part of your plant," TOM: Leaving the other parts totally unguarded. > and Ned nodded >toward the big new building. CROW: [Ned] Not that I suspect that you might be working on a military secret or anything. >"Yes, I had to let Rad play detective. JOEL: I just had a sudden urge to belt Tom, and I don't know why. > Not that he can do >anything--he's too old. TOM: [Tom Swift] It's so amusing when a former slave aspires to a responsible and trusted position. > But it keeps him and Koku from >quarreling all the while. CROW: By having them guard the same building. > I've got to be pretty careful >about that shop. CROW: [Tom Swift] It's my prototype for the Industrial Arts classroom. > It's got a secret in it that-- Well, the >less said about it the better." TOM: [Tom Swift] Here, let me hit you with my clue stick again, Ned. It needs to get as close to your brain as possible, so bend over. >"You're getting my curiosity aroused, Tom," remarked Ned. JOEL: It's about time. >"It'll have to go unsatisfied for a while. CROW: Like Mary's lust. > Wait a bit and >I'll give you a ride. I've got to go over to Sackett on >business, and if you're going that way I'll take you." TOM: [Tom Swift] If you're not, I'll take you there anyway. The twenty mile walk back should keep you out of my hair for at least a day. >"What in?" JOEL: On his Motor-Cycle? CROW: In his Power-Boat? TOM: In his Sub-Marine Boat? JOEL: Motoring in his Electric Runabout? CROW: Zipping along in his Sky Racer? TOM: Wafting softly in his Air Glider? JOEL: Filming it all with his Wizard Camera? CROW: Fired out his Giant Cannon? TOM: Going by way of his Big Tunnel? >"The Hawk." ALL: Oh. >"That's me!" cried Ned. TOM: We've noticed, believe me. > "I haven't been in an aircraft for >some time." JOEL: Tom had to make a forced landing on his last flight; let's see how he does today. >"Tell Miles to run her out," requested Tom. "I've got to >go in and say hello to dad a minute, and then I'll be with >you." CROW: I like Barton Swift -- he's my favorite character. He hasn't annoyed me yet. >"Seems like something was in the wind, Tom --big doings?" >hinted Ned. TOM: [Tom Swift] No, I went to Washington for several days and talked to the President about lunch meat. Oh, and that heavily guarded building is a new cafeteria. Moron. >"Yes, maybe there is. It all depends on how she turns out." TOM: [Tom Swift] Okay, this is your last blatantly obvious clue, Ned. Don't disappoint me now. >"You might be speaking of the Hawk or--Mary Nestor!" said >Ned, with a sidelong look at his chum. TOM: [Tom Swift] Christ. >"As it happens, it's neither one," said Tom, and then he >hastened away, TOM: [Tom Swift] Dad, you're not going to believe this, but that idiot Ned still hasn't figured out we're doing war work! [CROW and TOM laugh merrily] > to return shortly and guide his fleet little >airship, the Hawk, on her aerial journey. [CROW makes airplane engine sounds] TOM: [Tom Swift] Okay ... okay, now don't mind the smoke ... it's perfectly normal when -- AAAAAUGH! >From then on, at least for some time, neither Tom nor Ned >mentioned the matters they had been discussing--Tom's >failure to enlist, his exemption, and what was being built >in the closely guarded shop. JOEL: Because the speaking tube was caked with Mr. Damon's vomit. >Tom's business in Sackett did not take him long, CROW: Why does he fly out of town to use the restroom? TOM: If you had read "Tom Swift and His Electro-John" you would understand. CROW: I'm deeply shamed. > and then >he and Ned went for a little ride in the air. TOM: [Tom Swift] Strange how the boys on the front can't get enough gasoline, isn't it? I wonder why... >"It's like old times!" exclaimed Ned, his eyes shining, CROW: Ned's a little young to wax nostalgic, I think. TOM: Opium's kicking in. >though Tom could not see them for two reasons. One was that >Ned was sitting behind him, CROW: Two, Tom had dozed off at the controls again. > and the other was that Ned wore >heavy goggles, as did the young pilot. JOEL: So what exactly was the point of mentioning the shining eyes? > Also, they had to >carry on their talk through the speaking tube arrangement TOM: [Tom Swift] Just ignore where Mr. Damon vomited. >"Yes, it is a bit like old times," agreed Tom. "We've had >some great old experiences together, Ned, haven't we?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Remember those loathsome insects in South America? CROW [Ned] And being trapped on the ocean floor? I'll always cherish that. >"We surely have! I wonder if we'll have any more? JOEL: Well, if you stay away from the Western Front.... > When we >were in the submarine, and in your big airship Say, that big >one is the one I always liked! I like big things." TOM: I'm beginning to suspect that maybe the Liberty Bond thing isn't the real reason the Army doesn't want him. >"Do you?" asked Tom. "Well, maybe, when I get--" TOM: [Tom Swift] Secondary sexual characteristics, we can -- >But Tom did not finish, for the Hawk unexpectedly poked >her nose into an empty pocket in the air just then, and JOEL: Suffocat-- TOM: You used that line already. JOEL: Oh. Sorry. >needed a firm hand on the controls. Furthermore, Tom decided >against making the confidence that was on the tip of his >tongue. CROW: Realizing that Ned would never get it anyway. >At last the aircraft was straightened out and the pilot >guided her on toward the army encampment CROW: [Ned] I like army encampments. >"That's the place I'd like to be," called Ned through the >tube as the faint, sweet notes of a bugle floated up from >the parade ground. TOM: Join the Army -- war's just like camping! >"Yes, it would be great," admitted Tom. JOEL: Who doesn't dream of being virtually owned by an organization that can throw you in prison for making faces at your supervisor? > "But there are >other things to do for Uncle Sam besides wearing khaki." JOEL: Soaking up enemy fire, for instance. >"Tom's up to some game," mused Ned. "I mustn't judge him >too hastily, or I might make a mistake. And Mary mustn't, >either. TOM: [Sarcasm sequencer] Gee, you think? > I'll tell her so." CROW: [Ned] I like telling her so. >For Mary Nestor had spoken to Ned concerning Tom, and the >curiously secretive air about certain of his activities. TOM: The late night meetings, the lipstick on the collar.... > And >the girl, moreover, had spoken rather coldly of her friend. CROW: She was, after all, voted the Ice Queen of the Homecoming Parade. >Ned did not like this. It was not like Mary and Tom to be at >odds. JOEL: Yes, the butt-stupid leading the rock-stupid. >Once more the Hawk came to the ground, CROW: [Ned] AAAAAAAAaaaaaaagh....(boom) > this time near the >airship sheds adjoining the Swift works. Just as Tom and Ned >alighted, one of the workmen summoned the young inventor >toward the shop, JOEL: Which shop? > which was so closely guarded by Koku and >Eradicate on the outside. JOEL: Oh, right, and the fence, and the security procedures. I forgot about that. >"I'll have to leave you, Ned," remarked Tom, as he turned >away from his chum. CROW: Breathing a sigh of relief. > "There's a conference on about a new >invention." CROW: [Ned] Oh. Are you working on something, Tom? >"Oh, that's all right. Business is business, you know. >I've got some bond calls to make myself. I'll see you >later." CROW [Ned] I like making bond calls. And coffee. >"Oh, by the way, Ned!" exclaimed Tom, turning back for a >moment, "I met an old friend the other day; or rather an old >enemy." CROW: [Ned] Andy Foger, your easily-thwarted nemesis? >"Hum! [Everyone hums the chorus to "Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm."] > When you spoke first, I thought you might mean >Professor Swyington Bumper, that delightful scientist," >remarked Ned. "But he surely was no enemy." TOM: [Tom Swift] Thank you for letting me finish my sentence this time. >"No; but I meant some one I met about the same time. I met >Blakeson, JOEL: Who? > one of the rival contractors when I helped dig the >big tunnel." ALL: Oh. >"Is that so? Where'd you meet him?" TOM: [Tom Swift] At a meeting of the German-American Bund -- uh, I mean, rolling bandages for the Red Cross. >"Right around here. It was certainly a surprise, and at >first I couldn't place him. Then the memory of his face came >back to me," and Tom related the incident which had taken >place the day he and Mr. Damon were out in the Hawk. JOEL: The scary thing is that this book reads like Appleton went crazy with "Cut and Paste" and it was written on a typewriter. >"What's he doing around here?" asked Ned. > >"That's more than I can say," Tom answered. CROW: So Tom still doesn't have a clue what the ostensible villain is up to. >"Up to no good, I'll wager!" JOEL: Anyone who dislikes Tom must be bad, because Tom enshrines every virtue which is America. >"I agree with you," came from Tom. "But I'm on the watch." CROW: That would explain the huge fence, and the guards, and the passes ... >"That's wise, Tom. Well, I'll see you later." TOM: [Tom Swift] Not if I see you first. >During the week which followed this talk Ned was very busy JOEL: Smashing windows with German names on them, and correcting people who called Liberty Hounds "dachshunds." >on Liberty Bond work, TOM: That too. > and, he made no doubt, his chum was >engaged also. JOEL: To who? > This prevented them from meeting, but finally >Ned, one evening, decided to walk over to the Swift home. TOM: Ned is the embodiment of spontaneity. >"I'll pay Tom a bit of a call," he mused. "Maybe he'll >feel more like talking now. JOEL: Maybe if you stopped interrupting him? > Some of the boys are asking why >he doesn't enlist, JOEL: If they're in town, why don't they enlist? > and maybe if I tell him that he'll make >some explanation that will quiet things down a bit. TOM: Blackmail to gain your friend's confidence; smooth, Ned. > It's a >shame that Tom should be talked about." CROW: [Ned] His name must never drop from the lips of the unclean. >With this intention in view, Ned kept on toward his chum's >house, and he was about to turn in through a small grove of >trees, which would lead to a path across the fields, when >the young bond salesman was surprised to hear some one >running toward him. CROW: [Ned] No way! I thought this was my secret path! > He could see no one, for the path wound >in and out among the trees, but the noise was plain. > >"Some one in a hurry," mused Ned. JOEL: That would be implied by the verb 'running,' yes. >A moment later he Caught sight of a small lad named Harry >Telford running toward him. The boy had his hat in his hand, TOM: [Ned] Why are you panhandling in the woods? >and was speeding through the fast-gathering darkness as >though some one were after him. CROW: [Ned] Looks like the Shopton Child Murderer is on the loose again. >"What's the rush?" asked Ned. "Playing cops and robbers?" JOEL: What is 'cops and robbers,' Mister Appleton? >That was a game Tom and Ned had enjoyed in their younger >days. ALL: Oh. >"I--I'm runnin' away!" panted Harry. "I--I seen >something!" CROW: [Ned] Oh, it's the Shopton Flasher... >"You saw something?" repeated Ned. "What was it--a ghost?" >and he laughed, thinking the boy would do the same. JOEL: [Harry] Don't patronize me, village idiot. >"No, it wasn't no ghost!" declared Harry, casting a look >over his shoulder. "It was a wild elephant that I saw, and >it's down in a big yard with a fence around it." CROW: If there's a fence around it, why are you running? >"Where's that?" asked Ned. "The circus hasn't come to town >this evening, has it?" CROW: [Ned] Big yard, fence, large moving thing -- I wonder if there might be some connection with my pal Tom? >"No," answered Harry, "it wasn't no circus. I saw this >elephant down in the big yard back of one of Mr. Swift's >factories." JOEL: [Harry] Is this clue too subtle for you? >"Oh, down there, was it!" exclaimed Ned. "What was it >like?" CROW: [Ned] And was it playing baseball? >"Well, I was walking along the top of the hill," explained >Harry, "and there's one place where, if you climb a tree, >you can look right down in the big fenced-in yard. I guess >I'm about the only one that knows about it." JOEL: [Harry] Apart from that nice Major Knig, who gave me Linden Chocolates when I told him. >"I don't believe Tom does," mused Ned, "or he'd have had >that tree cut down. He doesn't want any spying, I take it. CROW: [Ned] Of course, that's only a theory; there might be some other explanation for the guards, the fence, the way he's been dropping vague hints... >Well, what'd you see?" he asked Harry aloud. JOEL: [Harry] I said I saw a wild elephant. Which word did you not understand? >"Saw an elephant, I tell you!", insisted the younger boy. CROW: Now Harry's my favorite character. He's actually acting as pissed off at Ned as a normal person would be. >"I was in the tree, looking down, for a lot of us kids has >tried to peek through the fence and couldn't I wanted to see >what was there." JOEL: Yeah, that sounds like something a kid would do. >"And did you?" asked Ned. JOEL: [Harry] Why, yes. That's where I saw an elephant. I'm sorry if I forgot to mention that. >"I sure did! And it scared me, too," admitted Harry. "All >at once, when I was lookin', I saw the big doors at the back >of the shed open, and the elephant waddled out." CROW: [Ned] Oh, so you saw an elephant? Now we're getting somewhere. Did you see anything? >"Are you sure you weren't 'seeing things,' like the little >boy in the story?" asked Ned. JOEL: [Harry] If you start telling me the story, I'll kick you in the shins. >"Well, I sure did see something!" insisted Harry. "It was >a great big gray thing, bigger'n any elephant I ever saw in >any circus. It didn't seem to have any tail or trunk, or >even legs, but it went slow, just like an elephant does, and >it shook the ground, it stepped so hard!" CROW: [Ned] Big moving object in Tom Swift's guarded workshop, no legs ... I just know these clues fit together somehow, but what could it be? >"Nonsense!" cried Ned. JOEL: You know, the Army did introduce intelligence testing for recruits right around World War I. >"Sure I saw it!" cried Harry. "Anyhow," he added, after a >moment's thought, "it was as big as an elephant, though not >like any I ever saw." JOEL: [Harry] It was riveted together and appeared to have sponsons on the hull. Do I have to draw you a picture? TOM: [Ned] No thanks -- I have to go home and drool over that photo of a tank some more, anyway. >"What did it do?" asked Ned. > >"Well, it moved around and then it started for the fence >nearest me, where I was up in the tree. I thought it might >have seen me, even though it was gettin' dark, and it might >bust through; so I ran!" JOEL: [Harry] And then the elephant might have climbed the tree I was in, and eaten me. [The group begins to leave.] >"Hum! Well, you surely were seeing things," murmured Ned, >but, while he made light of what the boy told him, the young >bank Clerk was thinking: "What is Tom up to now?" ALL: [on the way out] Duh. [1....2....3....4....5....6....SoL] [JOEL and the Bots stand around the table, chatting.] CROW: Boy, Ned's some kind of maroon, isn't he? JOEL: You said it. We've called a lot of fictional characters rock stupid before, but I think that Ned just about tops them all. I mean, each time he says something stupid, we riff it, and then he says something even stupider. Ned's stupidity is a vast and bottomless ocean Appleton will never plumb. [A sound effect of a badly-muffled car drawing near begins to play through TOM's line.] TOM: He's virtually self-riffing. I mean, I'm just about out of variations on, 'He still doesn't get it.' CROW: Do you hear something? JOEL: [frowns and listens] Yes, by golly, it sounds like a roadster. Cambot, give me Rocket Number 9. [Cut to the usual cheap external of the SoL, this time with a canary-yellow Model T vibrating intensely as it draws near to the Satellite.] [Interior, SoL] JOEL: [Looking directly into the camera] Someone's trying to contact us on the Hexfield Viewscreen! [The Hexfield opens, showing Mike Nelson behind the wheel of the car. Behind him is the endless void of space. He wears a propeller beanie and a varsity sweater reading "IQ 0."] CROW: Why, it must be Ned Newton from today's story! NED: [For it is he] Hi, guys. ALL: Hi, Ned. NED: Oh, you chaps know me? JOEL: We've just been reading one of your adventures with your friend Tom Swift. My name's Joel Robinson, and this is Tom Servo, Crow T. Robot, Gypsy, and Cambot. [Camera dips briefly in a nod] TOM: So what are you doing out in space? NED: Well, after the Great War, I returned to my position as financial manager for Swift Construction, where I stayed until 1929 and the Crash. CROW: Uhm, you didn't lose much, did you? NED: Me, not really, no. But apparently I had invested most of Swift Construction's capital. [Everyone makes sympathetic sounds of pain.] JOEL: Sorry to hear that. NED: [Sighs] Yeah, well...after that, Swift Construction didn't have any finances for me to manage, and Tom's dad jumped off a building, so Tom had to let me go. But to show there were no hard feelings, he built me this wizard Space Roadster so I could sell Liberty Bonds on all the different planets. JOEL: But Ned, the government stopped issuing Liberty Bonds at the end of the war. NED: Yeah, that's what the monolith told me on Jupiter. CROW: You didn't touch the monolith, did you? TOM: None of his ancestors did either. [TOM and CROW giggle while JOEL tries to hush them.] NED: Anyway, I was just wondering if you guys wanted a lift down to Earth? JOEL: You're driving? NED: Of course. [JOEL and the Bots look at one another and consider.] JOEL: No, no thanks. CROW: We like it here. TOM: Thanks for asking. NED: Oh. Wanna buy some Liberty Bonds? CROW: The war's been over for eighty -- TOM: What my gold-plated friend is trying to say is that we're a little short on cash up here, but we have a friend on Earth who would be thrilled to buy some bonds from you. [They smile innocently into the camera.] [Bumper] [The SoL trio enter the theater.] >Chapter VII > >Up a Tree CROW: Without a paddl-- oh, wait. >"Want to come and have a look?" asked Harry, as Ned paused >in the patch of woods, which were in deeper darkness than >the rest of the countryside, for night was fast falling. > >"Have a look at what?" asked Ned, [The screen goes dark, and JOEL stands to face the readers.] JOEL: Ladies and gentlemen, we hope you've enjoyed our MiSTing of _Tom Swift and His War Tank_ up to this point. Unfortunately, we find we have nearly run out of amusing comments to describe just how stupid Ned is. If you have any of your own, please send them to us via email in care of the authors of this MiST. Thank you. [JOEL sits and the story continues] > who was thinking many >thoughts just then. JOEL: Thoughts like, I like cheese. TOM: Sure is getting dark. CROW: Mud sure doesn't taste as good as it feels. JOEL: I wonder if it's going to rain later. TOM: Coffee smells nice, but not as nice as almonds. CROW: Teeth are very useful. JOEL: Why are there only twenty-six letters? "Bleery" should be a letter. It could go in between M and N. TOM: I bet night is falling. CROW: Though the Pauling scale of electronegativities of the elements is arbitrary, with hydrogen fixed at about 2 and fluorine at about 4, the Mulliken-Jaffe scale of ionization energy and electron affinity is less intuitive, despite having a firmer theoretical basis. TOM: [To CROW] Huh? MAGIC VOICE: This set of riffs was sent to us by Jeff Wikstrom of Fayetteville, Arkansas. JOEL: Thanks, Jeff! CROW: [aside] Fast turn-around time for that riff-request.... >"At the elephant I saw back of the Swift factory. I >wouldn't be skeered if you came along." TOM: [Harry] I'll be able to get away when the elephant is eating you. >"Well, I'm going over to see Tom Swift, anyhow," answered >Ned, "so I'll walk that way. You can come if you like. I >don't care about spying on other people's property--" CROW: [Ned] But I'll do it anyway. >"I wasn't spyin'!" exclaimed Harry quickly. "I just >happened to look. And then I seen something." CROW: [Ned] And what did you see? >"Well, come on," suggested Ned. "If there's anything >there, we'll have a peep at it." TOM: I hear this was the original inspiration for the shower scene in "Porky's." > >His idea was not to try to see what Tom was evidently >endeavoring to conceal, but it was to observe whence Harry >had made his observation, and be in a position to tell Tom >to guard against unexpected lookers-on from that direction. TOM: A moment of almost human cunning. >During the walk back along the course over which Harry had >run so rapidly a little while before, Ned and the boy talked >of what the latter had seen. JOEL: [Harry] It was an elephant. CROW: [Ned] And where did you see it? JOEL: [Harry] In that fence at the Swifts' factory. CROW: [Ned] And what did you see there? JOEL: [Harry] It was an elephant. CROW: [Ned] And where did you see it? TOM: Yeah, yeah, it goes on like that. >"Do you think it could be some new kind of elephant?" CROW: To aid the war effort, the Swift company manufactures a new breed of pachyderms. >asked Harry. "You know Tom Swift brought back a big giant >from one of his trips, and maybe he's got a bigger elephant >than any one ever saw before." CROW: Not an unreasonable theory, given the genre. Let's see what Ned thinks. >"Nonsense!" laughed Ned. CROW: Good ol' Ned. > "In the first place, Tom hasn't >been on any trip, of late, except to Washington, and the >only kind of elephants there are white ones." JOEL: I guess the Republicans didn't do well last time. >"Really?" asked Harry. > >"No, that was a joke," explained Ned. JOEL: [Harry] I ask because it's hard to tell with you. > "Anyhow, Tom hasn't >any giant elephants concealed up his sleeve, I'm sure of >that." TOM: Uh, why? >"But what could this be?" asked Harry. "It moved just like >some big animal." > >"Probably some piece of machinery Tom was having carted >from one shop to another," went on the young bank clerk. >"Most likely he had it covered with a big piece of canvas to >keep off the dew, and it was that you saw." CROW: That would explain the engine noise. >"No, it wasn't!" insisted Harry, but he could not give any >further details of what he had seen so that Ned could >recognize it. JOEL: You know, that doesn't surprise me one bit. > They kept on until they reached the hill, at >the bottom of which was the Swift home and the grounds on >which the various shops were erected. JOEL: As has been mentioned before. >"Here's the place where you can look down right into the >yard with the high fence around it," explained Harry, as he >indicated the spot. TOM: [Ned] So that's the nudist colony, huh? >"I can't see anything." > >"You have to climb up the tree," Harry went on. MAGIC VOICE: Ted Nakamura of Spokane, Washington emailed us saying, "Jimmy's only claim to stupidity in _I Accuse My Parents_ is not knowing how much a confidential, 24/7 messenger would make in a legitimate business. Ned's stupider than that." TOM: Not very punchy, but a good observation. Thanks, Ted! > "Here, >this is the one, and he indicated a stunted and gnarled >pine, the green branches of which would effectually screen >any one who once got in it a few feet above the ground. > >"Well, I may as well have a look," decided Ned. "It can't >do Tom any harm, and it may be of some service to him. CROW: [Ned] Tom Swift is my Lord and Master. My life is his. > Here >goes!" > >Up into the tree he scrambled, not without some >difficulty, for the branches were close together and stiff, >and Ned tore his coat in the effort. JOEL: The sacrifices we make during wartime.... > But he finally got a >position where, to his surprise, he could look down into the >very enclosure from which Tom was so particular to keep >prying eyes. > >"You can see right down in it!" Ned exclaimed. > >"I told you so," returned Harry. MAGIC VOICE: "Nine or ten times, if I'm not mistaken." That was from Zach Grey of Poughkeepsie, New York, age 12. > "But do you see--it?" MAGIC VOICE: "[Ned] See what?" That riff was from David Pulver, of Victoria, BC. >Ned looked long and carefully. It was lighter, now that >they were out of the clump of woods, and he had the >advantage of having the last glow of the sunset at his back. >Even with that it was difficult to make out objects on the >surface of the enclosed field some hundred or more feet >below. MAGIC VOICE: "[Ned] Neat! Someone's set up a hunter's blind. And is that a Hasselblad camera with a telescopic lens? Wow!" Lee Graham, Redwood City, California. >"Do you see anything?" asked Harry again. > >"No, I can't say I do," Ned answered. "The place seems to >be deserted." > >"Well, there was something there," insisted Harry. "Maybe >you aren't lookin' at the right place." CROW: [Ned] You're right -- I was looking into my own armpit. >"Have a look yourself, then," suggested Ned, as he got >down, a task no more to his liking than the climb upward had >been. TOM: As his method of descent was to let go and plummet, landing on his tiny, tiny head. >Harry made easier work of it, being smaller and more used >to climbing trees, a luxury Ned had, perforce, denied >himself since going to work in the bank. CROW: Funny. All the bank employees I know have to climb trees every day. >Harry peered about, and then, with a sigh that had in it >somewhat of disappointment, said: > >"No; there's nothing there now. But I did see something." CROW: [Ned] And what did you see? >"Are you sure?" asked Ned. > >"Positive!" asserted the other. JOEL: [Harry] Do I have to sign a notarized statement?! >"Well, whatever it was--some bit of machinery he was >moving, I fancy--Tom has taken it in now," remarked Ned. >"Better not say anything about this, Harry. Tom mightn't >like it known." TOM: That's one small step of reason for a human, one giant leap of logic for Ned. >"No, I won't." > >"And don't come here again to look. I know you like to see >strange things, JOEL: Since you were running scared from the sight a few moments ago. > but if you'll wait I'll ask Tom, as soon as >it's ready, to let you have a closer view of whatever it was >you saw. Better keep away from this tree." CROW: [Ned] Because I booby-trapped one of the branch-- TOM: BOOM! >"I will," promised the younger lad. "But I'd like to know >what it was--if it really was a giant elephant. Say! if a >fellow had a troop of them he could have a lot of fun with >'em, couldn't he?" JOEL: Not if he was the guy who had to clean up after them. >"How?" asked Ned, hardly conscious of what his companion >was saying. MAGIC VOICE: "Or anything else." Anonymous, Central Park, New York. >"Why, he could dress 'em up in coats of mail, like the old >knights used to wear, and turn 'em loose against the >Germans. Think of a regiment of elephants, wearin' armor >plates like a battleship, carryin' on their backs a lot of >soldiers with machine guns and chargin' against Fritz! >Cracky, that would be a sight!" TOM: Careful, Harry; someone at DARPA might steal that. >"I should say so!" agreed Ned, with a laugh. CROW: [Ned] Next you'll be saying that Carthage would bring elephants over the Alps and onto Roman soil! Silly boy! > "There's >nothing the matter with your imagination, Harry, my boy!" JOEL: [Harry] Wish I could say the same about your brain! >"And maybe that's what Tom's doin'!" > >"What do you mean?" TOM: I think I see Ned's problem. He can't relate sentences to one another in a conversation. >"I mean maybe he is trainin' elephants to fight in the >war. ALL: Duh, Ned. > You know he made an aerial warship, so why couldn't he >have a lot of armor plated elephants?" TOM: The answer to that is surprisingly sophisticated, and involves the square-cube law -- >"Oh, I suppose he could if he wanted to," admitted Ned. CROW: [Ned] He's rich -- why, he could have swimming butterflies, with jets, if he wanted to. >"But I guess he isn't doing that. CROW: [Ned] Armor-plated elephants, indeed. Why, if he's going to go to the trouble of outfitting elephants with armor plates and machine guns, why not just go for broke and build a tank like that one in the photo I nearly peaked over... hey, wait a minute.... > Don't get to going too >fast in high speed, Harry, or you may have nightmare. JOEL: [Harry] That's something you'll never have to worry about. CROW: [Ned] What do you mean? > Well, >I'm going down to see Tom." > >"And you won't tell him I was peekin'?" CROW: [Ned] Yes. You're going to do hard time, you little Fifth-Column Fritz. >"Not if you don't do it again. I'll advise him to have >that tree cut down, though. It's too good a vantage spot." JOEL: That sounds like a good idea, but it is Ned's so I'm suspicious. >Harry turned and went in the direction of his home, while >Ned kept on down the hill toward the house of his chum. The >young bond salesman was thinking of many things as he >tramped, along, TOM: Much like neurotransmitters, these thoughts were hastily constructed and meant to be tossed away as soon as they were used. > and among them was the information Harry had >just given. CROW: [Ned] I like information. >But Ned did not pay a visit to his chum that evening. When >he reached the house he found that TOM: He had completely forgotten what he had come out here for in the first place. > Tom had gone out, leaving >no word as to when he would be back. CROW: [Ned] That's funny, I thought I saw him dive behind the curtains when I opened the door. >"Oh, well, I can tell him to-morrow," thought Ned. JOEL: Seeing that Tom has no father, housekeeper, or trusted servants to take a message. >It was not, however, until two days later that Ned found >the time to visit Tom again. CROW: [Ned] No rush -- it's not like my buddy Tom's working on a military secret ... dum te tum... > On this occasion, as before, he >took the road through the clump of woods where he had seen >Harry running. CROW: [Ned] Hmm. Banker tracks, maybe three days old. Does this mean Tom's been seeing another banker? The slut. >"And while I'm about it," mused Ned, "I may as well go on >to the place where the tree stands and make sure, by >daylight, what I only partially surmised in the evening-- TOM: [Ned] That the tree has bark. >that Tom's place can be looked down on from that vantage >point." JOEL: Good idea. Tom might have a solar-powered cloaking device installed. >Sauntering slowly along, for he was in no special hurry, CROW: [Ned] Wonder if Tom will mind my dragging my butt delivering this message for two days? Nah, he'll get a laugh out of it. >having the remainder of the day to himself, Ned approached >the hill where the tree stood JOEL: Which tree, Appleton? > from which Harry had said he >had seen what he took to be a giant elephant, perhaps in >armor. ALL: Oh, that tree. >"It's a good clear day," observed Ned, "and fine for >seeing. I wonder if I'll be able to see anything." CROW: [Ned] Not that I ever condone spying. >It was necessary first to ascend the hill to a point where >it overhung, in a measure, the Swift property, though the >holdings of Tom and his father were some distance beyond the >eminence. The tree from which Ned and Harry had made their >observations was on a knob of the hill, the stunted pine >standing out from among others like it TOM: If it's stunted, would it stand out? >"Well, here goes for another torn coat," grimly observed >Ned, as he prepared to climb. "But I'll be more careful. CROW: [Ned] Maybe I should take my coat off? Nah. >First, though, let's see if I can see anything without >getting up." CROW: [Ned] Look -- there's a tree! And there's another tree! And there's another tree! TOM: He'll never see the forest, though. >He paused a little way from the pine, and peered down the >hill. Nothing could be seen of the big enclosed field back >of the building about which Tom Was so careful. CROW: Was he? TOM: He Was. CROW: Related to Don Was. JOEL: You realize that's a trivial transcription glitch that probably wasn't even in the published book. TOM: Man, Joel, let us have some fun. >"You have to be up to see anything," mused Ned. "It's up a >tree for me! Well, here goes!" JOEL: You get the feeling that Ned spends too much time alone these days? >As Ned started to work his way up among the thick, green >branches, he became aware, suddenly and somewhat to his >surprise, that he was not the only person who knew about the >observation spot. CROW: [Ned] There was that kid who showed it to me! > For Ned saw, a yard above his head, as he >started to climb, two feet, encased in well-made boots, >standing on a limb near the trunk of the tree. CROW: [Ned] This must be that nice Major Knig Harry told me about. That's quite a rifle -- he must be hunting some dumb animal. JOEL: We can only hope. >"Oh, ho!" mused Ned. "Some one here before me! JOEL: Reminds me of Geegaw Hackwrench's gravesite. > Where there >are feet there must be legs, and where there are legs, most >likely a body. JOEL: Except on the Western Front, of course. > And it isn't Harry, either! The feet are too >big for that. I wonder--" CROW: [Ned] --what Tom meant when he made that crack about hitting me with a clue stick. >But Ned's musings were suddenly cut short, for the person >up the tree ahead of him moved quickly and stepped on Ned's >fingers, with no light tread. TOM: It was the hobnails that really bothered him, though. >"Ouch!" exclaimed the young bank clerk involuntarily, and, >letting go his hold of the limb, he dropped to the ground, >while there came a startled exclamation from the screen of >pine branches above him. JOEL: [Unidentified Man] Hey! You left your fingers up here! TOM: Hey Joel, speaking of finding bodies, can we have ours back? I feel like a footnote to MacDuff's autobiography. JOEL: Fair enough. I need a break to recover from The Amazing Colossally Dense Man that is Ned, anyway. [They exit the theater.] [1....2....3....4....5...6....SoL] [JOEL works on CROW with a screwdriver, reattaching his head.] CROW: There, that's it. Now just a little tighter... when are you doing Tom? JOEL: I finished him before I started on you. Then he ran off to his room -- he was really excited about something. I think he's decided to unleash another facet of his personality upon us. CROW: That's gonna suck. [There is a flash and an explosion making JOEL and CROW jump. TOM magically appears in the middle of the explosion. He wears a straw hat and a varsity sweater labeled "T.P." His hands are on his hips and throughout, he moves with boyish energy and enthusiasm.] TOM: Greetings, my chums! This novel has made me confront who I truly am! JOEL: Oh, so you have a new personality? CROW: Who are you now, Servo? TOM: "Servo" is the name of my old identity and I renounce it! I have removed my cynicism module. Now and for all time I am...[Add reverb to TOM'S voice whenever he says] TOM PERFECT! [CROW rolls his eyes in disgust while JOEL attempts to humor TOM with a smile and chuckle.] JOEL: That's great ... can Tom Perfect help me align Crow's fiber optic spinal cord? TOM: TOM PERFECT can do anything! [TOM tilts over to JOEL, inspects briefly] I'd turn that restraining bolt a quarter turn to the left. JOEL: This one? TOM: No, the one under that. JOEL: Okay. [JOEL makes the adjustment. With a loud BOING sound, CROW'S arms shoot off his body in different directions.] CROW: Thanks, Tom. TOM: There's no need to thank TOM PERFECT, because he is amply rewarded by doing good! JOEL: Tom, you blew Crow's arms off. TOM: Certainly, Joel! Without arms, Crow will not be tempted to touch himself, leading to blindness and madness! CROW: I DO NOT! TOM: Can I work on his brain? JOEL & CROW: No! TOM: With just a little adjustment, TOM PERFECT can remove all the doubts from your mind, and -- JOEL: Well, Tom Perfect, I kind of like Crow the way he is. TOM: Well, TOM PERFECT would never argue with an authority figure. I'm off to clean the Sewage Recycler Valves! [TOM races off to the left.] JOEL: We really need to put a stop to this. CROW: After he finishes the valves. JOEL: Well, okay. I guess you want me to put your arms back on. CROW: Yes! JOEL: Just asking. [The commerical sign flashes, and Joel reachs over to swat it.] [Bumper] >Chapter VIII [The group files into the theater.] TOM: Thanks for putting back my cynicism module. What was I thinking? >Detective Rad CROW: I'm scared. TOM: Joel, hold me. JOEL: Don't worry guys; as long as we love each other, we can get through this. CROW: The sad thing is this sounds like a show that would be airing on FOX. >"Who's there?" came the demand from the unseen person in >the tree. TOM: [Unseen Person] And do you always vocalize your every thought? I thought you'd never shut up. > >"I might ask you the same thing," was Ned's sharp retort, CROW: [Ned] But I won't, because that would be copying. >as he nursed his skinned and bruised fingers. "What are you >doing up there?" JOEL: [Unseen Person] I'm climbing a tree. >There was no answer, but a sound among the branches TOM: The unmistakable 'clack' of the firing bolt on an AK-47. >indicated that the person up the tree was coming down. TOM: And that he was loaded for Liberty Bond salesman. > In >another moment a man leaped to the ground lightly and stood >beside Ned. The lad observed that the stranger was clean >shaven, except for a small moustache which curled up at the >ends slightly. JOEL: [Gasp!] TOM: A GERMAN! CROW: KILL IT BEFORE IT BREEDS! >"For all the world like a small edition of the Kaiser's," >Ned described it afterward. CROW: Finally noticing something. TOM: So in terms of mustaches, this guy is kind of the missing link between the Second and Third Reichs? >"What are you doing here?" demanded the man, and his voice >had in it the ring of authority. CROW: [Ned] Oh yeah? Well I could ask that too! > It was this very quality >that made Ned bristle up and "get on his ear," as he said >later. JOEL: I think Ned's padding his part just a tad, here. > The young clerk did not object to being spoken to >authoritatively by those who had the right, TOM: Like those mandated by God and the People to watch over our Glorious Republic. > but from a >stranger it was different. > >"I might ask you the same thing," retorted Ned. CROW: For the second time. JOEL: Gee, Ned really isn't very bright. > "I have as >much right here as you, I fancy, and I can climb trees, too, >but I don't care to have my fingers stepped on," and he >looked at the scarified members of his left hand. JOEL: [Hun Spy] Oh yeah? CROW: [Ned] Yeah! JOEL: [Hun Spy] Oh yeah? CROW: [Ned] Yeah! JOEL: [Hun Spy] Infinity! CROW: [Ned] Damn. >"I beg your pardon. I'm sorry if I hurt you. I didn't mean >to. JOEL: [Hun Spy] I meant to kill you. > And of course this is a public place, in a way, and you >have a right here. I was just climbing the tree to--er--to >get a fishing pole!" > >Ned had all he could do to keep from laughing. JOEL: Ned wasn't fooled by that? I call no way. TOM: This is where the phrase "A duel of wits between unarmed opponents" originated. > The idea of >getting a fishing pole from a gnarled and stunted pine >struck him as being altogether novel and absurd. JOEL: Everyone knew fishing rods came from the Fishing Rod Fairy. > Yet it was >not time to make fun of the man. TOM: Pot. Kettle. Black. > The latter looked too >serious for that. > >"Rather a good view to be had from up where you were, eh?" >asked Ned suggestively. JOEL: [Hun Spy] You mean of the tank? I uh, mean, the YWCA camp? >"A good view?" exclaimed the other. "I don't know what you >mean!" CROW: Here Ned proves that God never gives us a load we cannot handle, as he matches wits with the German spy and wins. >"Oh, then you didn't see anything," Ned went on. TOM: [Ned] I heard there were elephants in the yard, and was looking for confirmation. > "Perhaps >it's just as well. Are you fond of fishing?" JOEL: [Hun Spy] Why do you ask? >"Very. I have-- But I forget, I do not know you nor you >me. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mr. Walter Simpson, TOM: Sure he is. >and I am here on a visit I just happened to walk out this >way, and, seeing a small stream, thought I should like to >fish. I usually carry lines and hooks, JOEL: [Ned] Oh, so is that spike on top of your helmet a new type of hook, then? > and all I needed was >the pole. I was looking for it when I heard you, and--" > >"I felt you!" interrupted Ned, with a short laugh. He told >his own name, CROW: Which he remembered, having used it earlier in the day. > but that was all, and seemed about to pass on. > >"Are there any locomotive shops around here?" asked Mr. >Simpson. TOM: [Ned] I don't know; maybe if you told me what they make? >"Locomotive shops?" queried Ned. "None that I know of. >Why?" JOEL: [Herr Simpson] I want to buy one for my wife. >"Well, I heard heavy machinery being used down there;" and >he waved his hand toward Tom's shops, "and I thought--" > >"Oh, you mean Shopton!" exclaimed Ned. "That's the Swift >plant. No, they don't make locomotives, though they could if >they wanted to, for they turn out airships, submarines, >tunnel diggers, TOM: [Ned] Sewing machines.... CROW: Ned spills his guts in front of a suspicious character. > and I don't know what." CROW: [Ned] No tanks, though. >"Do they make munitions there--for the Allies?" CROW: [Ned] That's 'America's co-belligerents.' What are you trying to do -- imply the United States has foreign entanglements? > asked Mr. >Simpson, and there was an eager look on his face. JOEL: Twisting his moustache, I bet. >"No, I don't believe so," Ned answered; "though, in fact, >I don't know enough of the place to be in a position to give >you any information about it," he told the man, not deeming >it wise to go into particulars. TOM: And what happened then? Well in Shopton they say, That Ned's tiny brain Grew three sizes that day. >Perhaps the man felt this, as he did not press for an >answer. CROW: Ned had a button on his head that said, "Press for an answer." >The two stood looking at one another for some little time, JOEL: In a contest to see who could go longer without firing a single synapse. >and then the man, with a bow that had in it something of >insolence, as well as politeness, JOEL: And only Germans and computers can pull that off right. > turned and went down the >path up which Ned had come. > >The young bank clerk waited a little while, and then >turned his attention to the tree which seemed to have >suddenly assumed an importance altogether out of proportion >to its size. TOM: Oh, just now it did, huh? >"Well, since I'm here I'll have a look up that tree," >decided Ned. JOEL: [With muffled voice] Ned, this is your brain. Try to follow the spy. CROW: [Ned] No, I like trees. JOEL: [With muffled voice] Well, run to Tom and see if he'll send guards. CROW: [Ned] No, I like trees. >Favoring his bruised hand, Ned essayed the ascent of the >tree more successfully this time. CROW: This time, he was able to avoid the spies. > As he rose up among the >branches he found he could look down directly into the yard >with the high fence about it. CROW: Harry had been kind enough to post a calender for everyone to write in their spying reservations. TOM: [Ned] I see that Marshal Hindenburg and Count Von Hertling have already booked up the rest of this month. > He Could see only a portion, >good as his vantage point was, and that portion had in it a >few workmen--nothing else. CROW: [Ned] Well, obviously there could never have been anything important there. >"No elephants there," said Ned, with a smile, as he >remembered Harry's excitement. CROW: Later, Ned was seen telling Harry, "Told you so! Told you so! Told you so!" > "Still it's just as well for >Tom to know that his place can be looked down on. I'll go >and tell him." ALL: Duh, Ned. >As Ned descended the tree he caught a glimpse, off to one >side among some bushes, of something moving. > >"I wonder if that's my Simp friend, playing I spy?" JOEL: No, I think he does that professionally. > mused >Ned. "Guess I'd better have a look." TOM: [Ned] Good thing he's deaf, or my inability to shut up for two seconds might ruin any chance for surprise. >He worked his way carefully close to the spot where he had >seen the movement. Proceeding then with more caution, >watching each step and parting the bushes with a careful >hand, Ned beheld what he expected. ALL: [Singing] Tom and Mary sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G... >There was the late occupant of the pine tree the man JOEL: Which man? There's such a dazzling number of interesting characters that I've lost track, Appleton. > who >had stepped on Ned's fingers, ALL: Oh, *that* man. > applying a small telescope to >his eye and gazing in the direction of Tom Swift's home. TOM: Well, this is the point where even during peacetime, the heavily armed sentries of Army installations start to ask you to leave the vicinity. Let's see if Ned picks up on this, shall we? >The man stood concealed in a screen of bushes with his >back toward Ned, and seemed oblivious to his surroundings. TOM: With espionage this taut, is there any wonder that this War dragged out for so many years? >He moved the glass to and fro, and seemed eagerly intent on >discovering something. JOEL: Gee, you think? >"Though what he can see of Tom's place from there isn't >much," mused Ned. "I've tried it myself, and I know; you >have to be on an elevation to look down. CROW: [Ned] I really should let him know. > Still it shows >he's after something, all right. JOEL: Yes! Ned has figured something out! TOM: Cool! CROW: I'm so proud of him. [*sniff*] > Guess I'll throw a little >scare into him." CROW: [Ned] Sure, he's a suspicious character and probably a foreign spy, but he's certainly not armed or anything. >As yet, Ned believed himself unobserved, and that his >presence was not suspected was proved a moment later when he >shouted: > >"Hey! What are you doing there?" [JOEL and TOM, simultaneously] JOEL: [Simpson] I VILL NEVER SURRENDER! TAKE DIS, YANKEE SCHWEIN! TOM: POW POW POW POW POW POW POW! >He had his eye on the partially concealed man, and the >latter. as Ned said afterward, jumped fully two feet in the >air, dropping his telescope as he did so, and turning to >face the lad. > >"Oh, it's you, is it?" he faltered. JOEL: [Herr Simpson] Nobody else could be so stupid. >"No one else;" and Ned grinned. "Looking for a good place >to fish, I presume?" JOEL: [Herr Simpson] No, I'm looking for a good place to bury a bond salesman. >Then, at least for once, the man's suave manner dropped >from him as if it had been a mask. He bared his teeth in a >snarl as he answered: JOEL: [Herr Simpson] Bite me, pink boy! >"Mind your own business!" CROW: [Ned] What's a mind? >"Something I'd advise you also to do," replied Ned >smoothly. "You can't see anything from there," he went on. >"Better go back to the tree and--cut a fishing pole!" TOM: Then a single shot rang out, and the average IQ in Shopton skyrocketed. >With this parting shot Ned sauntered down the hill, and >swung around to make his way toward Tom's home. He paid no >further attention to the man, JOEL: Who was charging from behind-- > save to determine, by >listening, that the fellow was searching among the bushes >for the dropped telescope. CROW: [Ned] Well, that was a good day's work -- found a spy, failed to get proof he was a spy, and let him know he was suspected. >The young inventor was at home, taking a hasty lunch which >Mrs. Baggert had set out for him, the while he poured over >some blueprint drawings that, to Ned's unaccustomed eyes, >looked like the mazes of some intricate puzzle. TOM: Do puzzles have mazes? JOEL: Well, a maze is a puzzle... >"Well, where have you been keeping yourself, old man?" >asked Tom Swift, after he had greeted his friend. TOM: [Tom Swift] Slipped out of the Home again, I see.... >"I might ask the same of you," retorted Ned, with a smile. JOEL: [Tonelessly] For - the - third - time - this - chapter. CROW: I think people who say fan fiction is worse than professionally written and published fiction are unfair. What do you think? >"I've been trying to find you to give you some important >information, and I made up my mind, after what happened to- >day, to write it and leave it for you if I didn't see you." CROW: [Ned] Which I could have done two days ago, but didn't. >"What happened to-day?" asked Tom, and there was a serious >look on his face. > >"You are being spied upon--at least, that part of your >works enclosed in the new fence is," replied Ned. JOEL: Wow -- this is sort of like an average person synthesizing proteins for fun. >"You don't mean it!" Cried Tom. "This accounts for some of >it, then." > >"For some of what?" asked Ned. TOM: [In utter disgust] For God's sake, Ned, Tom's talking about the ... uh ... what *is* Tom talking about? >"For some of the actions of that Blakeson, He's been >hanging around here, I understand, JOEL: Maybe he's trying to hire a machinist? > asking too many questions >about things that I'm trying to keep secret--even from my >best friends," and as Tom said this Ned fancied there was a >note of regret in his voice. CROW: Tom was regretting he didn't have smarter friends. >"Yes, you are keeping some things secret, Tom," said Ned, TOM: [Tom Swift] Yes, I know that, thanks. >determined "to take the bull by the horns," as it were. JOEL: [flatly] You go, Ned. >"I'm sorry, but it has to be," went on Tom. "In a little >while CROW: There will be an ambiguous failure in the transcription of this book. >"Oh, don't think that I'm at all anxious to know things!" TOM: There's a divine mercy in that, like God removing the desire to fly from a wingless bird. >broke in Ned. "I was thinking TOM: Don't exaggerate, Ned. MAGIC VOICE: That one was again from Jeff Wikstrom, of Arkansas! CROW: Way to go, Jeff! > of some one else, Tom--another >of your friends." TOM: [Tom Swift] I have other friends? >"Do you mean Mary?" JOEL: [Tom Swift] Oh yeah - the girl who's here to prove I'm not gay. >Ned nodded. > >"She feels rather keenly your lack of explanations," went >on the young bank clerk. "If you could only give her a hint TOM: [Tom Swift] I want to marry her, but it's just that I'm afraid of commitment -- will I be good enough for her, will she pass her father's stupidity genes to our children, do I really prefer other men -- CROW: [Ned] I mean about your contribution to the war effort. >"I'm sorry, but it can't be done," and Tom spoke firmly. >"But you haven't told me all that happened. You say I am >being spied upon." CROW: [Ned] By me, Mr. Nestor, Harry, and this nice German man -- >"Yes," and Ned related what had taken place in the tree. > >"Whew!" whistled Tom. "That's going some with a vengeance! TOM: [Tom Swift] You didn't let him know you suspected, did you? >I must have that tree down in a jiffy. I didn't imagine >there was a spot where the yard could be overlooked. But I >evidently skipped that tree. JOEL: [Tom Swift] Better clear cut the whole forest to be safe, and pave it over. > Fortunately it's on land owned >by a concern with which I have some connection, and I can >have it chopped down without any trouble. TOM: [Tom Swift] Or the owner sleeps with the fishes tonight. > Much obliged to >you, Ned. I shan't forget this in a hurry. I'll go right >away and--" TOM: [Tom Swift] Thanks for letting me know right away. Dad says you're pretty stupid, but when I let him know you realized how important this was and immediately -- >Tom's further remark was interrupted by the hurried >entrance of Eradicate Sampson. The old man was smiling in >pleased anticipation, evidently, at the same time, trying >hard not to give way to too much emotion. TOM: Uh-oh, comical hijinks are a-comin'. Take the gun out of my pocket and shoot me. I have enough bullets for everyone. JOEL: You have pockets? >"I's done it, Massa Tom!" he cried exultingly. TOM: [Tom Swift] Don't call me 'Master' unless we're in bed. >"Done what?" asked the young inventor. "I hope you and >Koku haven't had another row." > >"No, sah! I don't want nuffin t' do wif dat ornery, low- >down white trash! But I's gone an' done whut I said I'd do!" CROW: He raked inside the yard? >"What's that, Rad? Come on, tell us! Don't keep us in >suspense." JOEL: Curse you, Dr. Forrester! >"I's done some deteckertiff wuk, lest laik I said I'd do, >an' I's cotched him! By golly, Massa Tom! I's cotched him >black-handed, as it says!" CROW: Joel, let me open a door into space. A few minutes of pain, and then none of us will ever need to read Eradicate Sampson's dialog again. >"Caught him? Whom have you caught, Rad?" cried Tom. "Do >you suppose he means he's caught the man you saw up the >tree, Ned? The man you think is a German spy?" TOM: [Ned] I never said I thought he was German, Tom. Why do you think he is? >"It couldn't be. I left him only a little while ago >hunting for his telescope." JOEL: Uhm...so? >"Then whom have you caught, Rad?" cried Tom. "Come on, >I'll give you credit for it. JOEL: That's an unsettling line. It's one of those things people only say if they don't mean it. > Tell us!" > >"I's cotched dat Dutch Sauerkrauter, dat's who I's >cotched, Massa Tom! By golly, l's cotched him!" CROW: Oh, Rad believes there's only one German in the Second Reich. >"But who, Rad? Who is he?" > >"I don't know his name, Massa Tom, but he's a >Sauerkrauter, all right. Dat's whut he eats for lunch, an' >dat's why I calls him dat. CROW: Yes, that's compelling evidence, all right. > I's cotched him, an' he's locked >up in de stable wif mah mule Boomerang. An' ef he tries t' >git out Boomerang'll jest natchully kick him into little >pieces--dat's whut Boomerang will do, by golly!" TOM: [Tom Swift] I smell a major liability suit on the horizon. Rad, don't use me for a reference. >Chapter IX > >A Night Test > > >"Come on, Ned," said Tom, after a moment or two of silent >contemplation of Eradicate. TOM: [Tom Swift] I guess I could throw the lawyers Rad's head. > "I don't know what this cheerful >camouflager of mine is talking about, TOM: [Tom Swift] And I have no idea why I just called him a 'camouflager.' > but we'll have to go >to see, I suppose. You say you have shut some one up in >Boomerang's stable, Rad?" JOEL: Tom carefully repeats what he's been told to make sure he has it right. TOM: I get it -- he's actually in the Navy. JOEL: [Naval Officer] Move three quarters of an inch to the left, sailor. CROW: [Sailor] Moving three quarters of an inch to the left, sir. Sir, coming on three quarters of an inch to the left, sir. JOEL: [Naval Officer] Hold still at three quarters of an inch to the left. CROW: [Sailor] Aye, sir. Holding steady at three quarters of an inch to the left. JOEL: [Naval Officer] Very well. TOM: Navy: It's not just a job; it's a Type-A personality development course. >"Yes, sah, Massa Tom, dat's whut I's gone an done." TOM: [Tom Swift] Boomerang, that mule of yours that killed six Avon Ladies last week? >"And you say he's a German?" > >"I don't know as to dat, Massa Tom, but he suah done eat >sauerkraut 'mostest ebery meal. CROW: I never realized before that sauerkraut was such a key point to the German's livelihood. > Dat's whut I call him--a >Sauerkrauter! An' he suah was spyin'." > >"How do you know that, Rad?" TOM: [Tom Swift] 'Decision with reason,' like Lieutenant Rommel used to say in that foreign military school Dad sent me to. >"'Cause he done went from his own shop on annuder man's >ticket into de secret shop, dat's whut he went an' done!" > >"Do you mean to tell me, Rad," went on Tom, "that one of >the workmen from another shop entered Number Thirteen on the >pass issued in the name of one of the men regularly employed >in my new shop?" TOM: [Tom Swift] I'm sorry to keep repeating everything you're saying, but you're actually making sense and I'm flabbergasted. >"Dat's whut he done, Massa Tom." > >"How do you know?" > >"'Cause I detected him doin' it. Yo'-all done made me a >deteckertiff, an' I detected." > >"Go on, Rad." TOM: [Tom Swift] Finish your report, Marine. >"Well, sah, Massa Tom, I seen dish yeah Dutchman git a >ticket-pass offen one ob de reg'lar men. CROW: So if Boomerang kicks the spy hard enough, will that make him the Flying Dutchman? > Den he went in de >unlucky place an' stayed fo' a long time. CROW: Are we sure that this building really isn't a strip club? > When he come out I >jest natchully nabbed him, dat's whut I done, an' I took him >to Boomerang's stable." TOM: [Tom Swift] Oh my God, Rad showed initiative and common sense. >"How'd you get him to go with you?" asked Ned, for the old >colored man was feeble, and most of the men employed at >Tom's plant were of a robust type. JOEL: [Rad] I offered him sex. >"I done fooled him. I said as how I'd lest brought from >town in mah mule cart some new sauerkraut, an' he could >sample it if he liked. So he went wif me, an' when I got him >to de stable I pushed him in and locked de door!" CROW: Ah, Teutons and sauerkraut -- just like toons and 'Shave and a Haircut.' Were German agents really that dumb? JOEL: Well, they helped Lenin gain power to keep Russia from being a threat. CROW: Really? TOM: And don't forget they tried to get Mexico to invade the United States. CROW: Now I know you're pulling my leg. >"Come on!" cried Tom to his chum. "Rad may be right, after >all, and one of my workmen may be a German spy, though I've >tried to weed them all out. CROW: [Ned] But why would you do that, Tom? It's not like you're working on any military secrets. >"However, no matter about that, if he was employed in >another shop, he had no right to go into Number Thirteen. >That's a violation of rules. But if he's in Rad's ramshackle >stable he can easily get out." CROW: [Tom Swift] All he has to do is trick Boomerang to kick him through the wall.... >"No, sah, dat's whut he can't do!" insisted the >colored man. > >"Why not?" asked Tom. CROW: He's too busy eating all that free sauerkraut to care. >"'Cause Boomerang's on guard, an' yo'-all knows how dat >mule of mine can use his heels!" > >"I know, Rad," went on Tom; JOEL: [Tom Swift] Look what happened to Ned after he was kicked in the head. > "but this fellow will find a >way of keeping out of their way. We must hurry." > >"Oh, he's safe enough," declared the colored man. "I done >tole Koku to stan' guard, too! Dat low-down white trash ob a >giant is all right fo' guardin', but he ain't wuff shucks at >detectin'!" said Eradicate, with pardonable pride. CROW: Eradicate has been hanging around Tom too long. > "By >golly, maybe I's too old t' put on guard, but I kin detect, >all right!" TOM: I don't get it. Do you think Eradicate's right? JOEL: I'd bet against it. He's a comic relief character written with all the taste and sensibility of a lawn jockey. CROW: I agree with Joel. We'll probably find out that he locked up an FBI agent or something. >"If this proves true, I'll begin to believe you can," >replied Tom. CROW: What a motivating boss Tom is. > "Hop along, Ned!" CROW: [Ned] I like bunnies. >Followed by the shuffling and chuckling negro, JOEL: Okay, now that was just gratuitous. > Tom and Ned >went to the rather insecure stable where the mule Boomerang >was kept. CROW: Other mules knew it as the Sweatbox. > That is, the stable was insecure from the >standpoint of a jail. But the sight of the giant Koku >marching up and down in front of the place, armed with a big >club, reassured Tom. TOM: This is starting to sound more and more like a cartoon from the 1930s. > >"Is he in there, Koku?" asked the young inventor. > >"Yes, Master! He try once come out, but he approach his >head very close my defense weapon and he go back again." CROW: Appleton accidentally let a decent line slip in. >"I should think he would," laughed Ned, as he noted the >giant's club. > >"Well, Rad, let's have a look at your prisoner. Open the >door, Koku," commanded Tom. > >"Better look out," advised Ned. "He may be armed." JOEL: Ned brings this up now, when he's with several people on Tom's property, but not when he was taunting a stranger, alone, in the middle of the woods. I can see this. >"We'll have to take a chance. Besides, I don't believe he >is, or he'd have fired at Koku. JOEL: [Koku] Right Master, he would have -- hey, wait a minute... > There isn't much to fear >with the giant ready for emergencies. Now we'll see who he >is. I can't imagine one of my men turning traitor." TOM: But he was a German, Tom, pretending to be one of your men. CROW: The snake. >The door was opened and a rather miserable-looking man >shuffled out. There was a bloody rag on his head, and he >seemed to have made more of an effort to escape than Koku >described, for he appeared to have suffered in the ensuing >fight. TOM: [Tom Swift] Okay, we're talking personal injury, assault with a deadly weapon...Koku, just brain him and save us all a lot of trouble. >"Carl Schwen!" exclaimed Tom. JOEL: Sounds French. > "So it was you, was it?" CROW: [Tom Swift] I had my suspicions when you wore that "Nietzsche Rocks My World" button. >The German, for such he was, ALL: [Gasp] JOEL: A German? CROW: [Confused] But where's the spike that's supposed to come out of his head? > did not answer for a moment >He appeared downcast, and as if suffering. TOM: I wonder if it's because he was bashed in the head with a club? > Then a change >came over him. He straightened up, saluted as a soldier >might have done, and a sneering look came into his face. CROW: Why not go for broke? "He sprouted a black moustache that curled at the tips and was suddenly wearing a uniform adorned with several military medals." > It >was succeeded by one of pride as the man exclaimed: JOEL: [Carl] I was fooled by a ruse that even Ned would have been hard-pressed to fall for, and I'm proud! >"Yes, it is I! And I tried to do what I tried to do for >the Fatherland! TOM: [Carl] Eat all of the Allies' sauerkraut! > I have failed. Now you will have me shot as >a spy, I suppose!" he added bitterly. CROW: [Ned] Tom -- he's German! >Tom did not answer directly. He looked keenly at the man, >and at last said: JOEL: [Tom Swift] Are you sure you're not Andy Foger in disguise? >"I am sorry to see this. I knew you were a German, Schwen, >but I kept you employed at work that could not, by any >possibility, be considered as used against your country. TOM: [Tom Swift] Just bombsights. > You >are a good machinist, and I needed you. But if what I hear >about you is true, it is the end." CROW: Man, he's harsh. Firing a guy just for being an enemy spy. >"It is the end," said the man simply. "I tried and failed. >If it had not been for Eradicate-- TOM: [Carl] And those meddling kids! > Well, he's smarter than I >gave him credit for, that's all!" JOEL: I've got to admit I was surprised too. >The man spoke very good English, with hardly a trace of >German accent, but there was no doubt as to his character. TOM: He was EVIL, like the rest of the goose-stepping race. EVIL! >"What will you do with him, Tom?" asked Ned. > >"I don't know. I'll have to do a little investigating >first. CROW: [Tom Swift] Like how he knew which building the secret work was going on in. > But he must be locked up. Schwen," went on the young >inventor, "I'm sorry about this, but I shall have to give >you into the custody of a United States marshal. You are not >a naturalized citizen, are you?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Because then you'd get a trial and stuff before the government impounds everything you own and sells it at auction. >The man muttered something in German to the effect that he >was not naturalized and was glad of it. CROW: That's enough -- kill him out of hand. >"Then you come under the head of an enemy alien," decided >Tom, who understood what was said, JOEL: [Ned] You speak German, Tom?! TRAITOR! [POW!] TOM: [Tom Swift] Uhh! [thud] > "and will have to be >interned. TOM: [Tom Swift] Eventually you'll become a doctor, though. > I had hoped to avoid this, but it seems it cannot >be. JOEL: Said Aeneas to Turnus. > I am sorry to lose you, but there are more important >matters. CROW: This "Tom as guileless administer of the law" is wearing a bit thin. > Now let's get at the bottom of this." > >Schwen was, after a little delay, taken in charge by the >proper officer, CROW: Tom Swift had his own caseworker in the FBI. > and then a search was made of his room, for, >in common with some of the other workmen, he lived in a >boarding house not far from the plant CROW: Better arrest and execute them all. It's the only way to be sure. >There, by a perusal of his papers, enough was revealed to >show Tom the danger he had escaped. TOM: Tom, America, and all her co-belligerents in the Great War -- including Italy and Japan. >"And yet I don't know that I have altogether escaped it," >he said to Ned, JOEL: Who had the ability to soak in information like a chunk of granite. > as they talked it over. "There's no telling >how long this spy work may have been going on. If he has >discovered all the secrets of Shop Thirteen TOM: [singing] Dr. Forrester and T.V.'s Frank were hatching an evil scheme.... JOEL: I wish you wouldn't do that. > it may be a bad >thing for the Allies and--" JOEL: Enemy spies in a secret weapon development factory might be bad for the Allies, true. >"Look out!" warned Ned, with a laugh. TOM: As a rock thrown by Walter Simpson cracked off of Tom's skull and dropped the young engineer like a sack of flour. > "You'll be saying >things you don't want to, Tom and not at all in keeping with >your former silence." CROW: What former silence? Short of carving it into your forehead -- >"That's so," agreed the young inventor, with a sigh. "But >if things go right I'll not have to keep silent much longer. >I may be able to tell you everything." TOM: [Tom Swift] Including the story of a love I dare not admit. >"Don't tell me--tell Mary," advised his chum. "She feels >your silence more than I do. I know how such things are." JOEL: At least he knows something. >"Well, I'll be able to tell her, too," decided Tom. "That >is, if Schwen hasn't spoiled everything. TOM: Uh, if Schwen has spoiled everything, wouldn't it mean you _could_ tell everyone because it was no longer a secret? > Look here, Ned, >these papers show he's been in correspondence with Blakeson >and Grinder." TOM: [Tom Swift] I knew Blakeson was a foreign spy the moment he tried to hire an engineer. >"What about, Tom?" > >"I can't tell. The letters are evidently written in code, >and I can't translate it offhand. TOM: Idiot. CROW: So... how does he know Blakeson and Grinder are really involved in the first place? > But I'll make another >attempt at it. TOM: [Tom Swift] I've been looking for something to do in the bathroom ever since I finished ghost-writing those novels for Dostoevsky. > And here's one from a person who signs >himself Walter Simpson, but the writing is in German." JOEL: Tom is literate in German as well, now. This just gets better and better. >"Walter Simpson!" cried Ned. "That's my friend of the >tree!" CROW: Wow! What a plot twist! The German spy Ned met in a tree is actually a ... German spy. >"It is?" cried Tom. "Then things begin to fit themselves >together. JOEL: Just like a puzzle made for ages three and up. > Simpson is a spy, TOM: Good start. > and he was probably trying to >communicate with Schwen. But the latter didn't get the >information he wanted, or, if he did get it, he wasn't able >to pass it on to the man in the tree. Eradicate nipped him >just in time." CROW: He bit him? >And, so it seemed, the colored man had done. by accident >he had discovered that Schwen had prevailed on one of the >workmen in Shop 13 to change passes with him. JOEL: "By accident," you'll notice. It's not like he was deliberately looking for spies or anything like that. > This enabled >the German spy to gain admittance to the secret place, which >Tom thought was so well guarded. The man who let Schwen take >the pass was in the game, too, it appeared, and he was also >placed under arrest. But he was a mere tool in the pay of >the others, and had no chance to gain valuable information. TOM: Oh, I get it. He gave Schwen his pass so Schwen could access the same stuff he had access to. Yes. >A hasty search of Shop 13 did not reveal anything missing, >and it was surmised (for Schwen would not talk) CROW: Having his jaw shattered during the interrogation process. > that he had >not found time to go about and get all that he was after. JOEL: It's a good things Germans don't have cameras or sketchbooks. >Soon after Schwen's arrest the "Spy Tree," as Tom called >it, was cut down. TOM: And BURNED as a traitor to the Republic! >"Eradicate certainly did better than I ever expected he >would," declared Tom. JOEL: Well, there's a complement that isn't. > "Well, if all goes well, there won't >be so much need for secrecy after a day or so. We're going >to give her a test, and then--" > >"Give who a test?" asked Ned, with a smile. CROW: I think Ned has finally caught on. >"You'll soon see," answered Tom, with an answering grin. >"I hereby invite you and Mr. Damon to come over to Shop >Thirteen day after to-morrow night and then-- Well, you'll >see what you'll see." TOM: [Tom Swift] "Bless my" this and that, never letting me finish a sentence -- I'll make them both pay. >With this Ned had to be content, and he waited anxiously >for the appointed time to come. CROW: [Ned] Is it the day after tomorrow night yet? TOM: [Tom Swift] No. CROW: [Ned] How about now? TOM: [Tom Swift] Not yet. CROW: [Ned] How much longer until the day after tomorrow night? >"I surely will be glad when Tom is more like himself," he >mused, as he left his chum. "And i guess Mary will be, too. >I wonder if he's going to ask her to the exhibition?" CROW: Sure -- girls love tanks. >It developed that Tom had done so, a fact which Ned >learned on the morning of the day set for the test. CROW: [Mary] Is it tonight yet? TOM: [Tom Swift] No. CROW: [Mary] How about now? TOM: [Tom Swift] Not yet. CROW: [Mary] How much longer until tonight? >"Come over about nine o'clock," Tom said to his chum. "I >guess it will be dark enough then." TOM: Must be summer. >Meanwhile Schwen aud Otto Kuhn, the other man involved, JOEL: Sheesh, they even have spy-sounding names.... >had been locked up, and all their papers given into the >charge of the United States authorities. A closer guard than >ever was kept over No. 13 shop, and some of the workmen, >against whom there was a slight suspicion, CROW: Of having Germans in their families. > were transferred. TOM: And executed. >"Well, we'll see what we shall see," JOEL: Can't argue with that. > mused Ned on the >appointed evening, when a telephone message from Mr. Damon >informed the young bank clerk that the eccentric man was >coming to call for him before going on to the Swift place. CROW: Ned prepared the proper reception by loading his shotgun. > >Chapter X TOM: That's one of Agent Mulder's contacts, isn't it? > >A Runaway Giant TOM: Koku joins the circus. JOEL: Actually, that's what Koku's brother did. Really. >"What do you think it's all about, Mr. Damon?" CROW: Nope -- Ned's still in the dark. >"I'm sure I don't know, Ned." JOEL: [Mr. Damon] But unlike you, I have an excuse. TOM: You forgot to bless -- JOEL: [Mr. Damon] Bless my mismatched socks. >The two were at the home of the young bank clerk, >preparing to start for the Swift place, it being nearly nine >o'clock on the evening named by the youthful inventor. TOM: [Tom Swift] I name this evening "Tom Swift Evening," after one of the most brilliant men of our, or any other, age. >"Bless my hat-rack!" went on the eccentric man, "but Tom >isn't at all like himself of late. He's working on some >invention, I know that, but it's all I do know. He hasn't >given me a hint of it." JOEL: [Mr. Damon] So, again, I have an excuse, bless the egg I spilled on my tie this morning which remains there in mute testament to my failing mind. >"Nor me, nor any of his friends," added Ned. CROW: Oh, I can't believe this moron... > "And he acts >so oddly about enlisting--doesn't want even to speak of it. TOM: It's fear. Pure and simple. >How he got exempted I don't know, JOEL: Ned makes me want to pull my brain out. > but I do know one thing, >and that is Tom Swift is for Uncle Sam first, last and >always!" ALL: Amen. >"Oh, of course!" agreed Mr. Damon. "Well, we'll soon know, >I guess. We'd better start, Ned." > >"It's useless to try to guess what it is Tom is up to. CROW: [Ned] Useless for me, anyway. > He >has kept his secret well. CROW: It just hurts to think like him. > The nearest any one has come to it >was when Harry figured out that Tom had a band of giant >elephants which he was fitting with coats of steel armor to >go against the Germans," CROW: [Ned] Of course, I'd have no way of knowing that was close unless I knew the truth. > observed Ned, when be and Mr. Damon >were on their way. > >"Well, that mightn't be so bad," agreed Mr. Damon. "But-- >um--elephants--and wild giant ones, too! Bless my circus >ticket, Ned! do you think we'd better go in that case?" JOEL: [Mr. Damon] I know Tom is just itching to kill us both. >"Oh, Tom hasn't anything like that!" laughed Ned. "That >was only Harry's crazy notion after he saw something big and >ungainly careening about the enclosed yard of Shop Thirteen. JOEL: But a moment ago you said it was the closest guess... >Hello, there go Mary Nestor and her father!" CROW: [Ned] They're dating now. > and Ned pointed >to the opposite side of the street where the girl and Mr. >Nestor could be seen in the light of a street lamp. TOM: [Mr. Damon] He's soliciting for his daughter again, I see. CROW: Trying to raise money to buy more Liberty Bonds. >"They're going out to see Tom's secret," said Mr. Damon. CROW: It's not often people are invited to see secrets, after all. >"There's plenty of room in my car. Let's ask them to go with >us." JOEL: [Mr. Damon] We can double-date. >"Surely," agreed Ned, and a moment later he and Mary were >in the rear seat JOEL: Ahem. > while Mr. Damon and Mr. Nestor were in the >front, Mr. Damon at the wheel, and they were soon speeding >down the road. JOEL: In the wrong direction. >"I do hope everything will go all right," observed Mary. > >"What do you mean?" asked Ned. [CROW explodes into flames. JOEL tosses a wet towel on him.] JOEL: Wow. I've never seen him do that before. TOM: I think his stupidity buffer overflowed. JOEL: Maybe you're right. >"I mean Tom is a little bit anxious about this test." > >"Did he tell you what it was to be?" TOM: [Mary] My pregnancy test, silly. > >"No; but when he called to invite father and me to be >present he seemed worried. JOEL: [Mary] But I'm sure there's no danger, or he wouldn't have invited us. > I guess it's a big thing, TOM: [Ned] I like big things. [JOEL removes the towel from Crow, smoke billowing out for a few seconds.] CROW: [spitting out ash] Give me a few moments to dislodge the soot from my I/O ports.... > for he >never has acted this way before--not talking about his >work." TOM: Not counting the hundreds of innuendoes he's littered about the town the past couple of weeks. >"That's right," assented Ned. "But the secret will soon be >disclosed, I fancy. But how is it you aren't going to the >dance with Lieutenant Martin? He told me you had half >accepted for to-night." JOEL: [Mary] I'm not sure how he mistook "Over my dead body" for half-accepting. >"I had." And if it had been light enough Ned would have >seen Mary blushing. "I was going with him. It's a dance for >the benefit of the Red Cross to get money for comfort kits >for the soldiers. But when Tom sent word that he'd like to >have me present to-night, why--" CROW: [Ned] So you ran to be with your fiance rather than help American soldiers? I hate you, Mary Nestor. JOEL: Feeling better? CROW: Well, sure. >"Oh, I see!" broke in Ned, with a little laugh. "'Nough >said!" CROW: [Ned] Shame about disappointing Lieutenant Martin, though. Maybe I should make up for it by dancing with him. >Mary's blushes were deeper, but the kindly night hid them. JOEL: It's embarrassing to be in love with a spineless coward. >Then they conversed on matters connected with the big war- >-the selling of Liberty Bonds, JOEL: Oo. Exciting. > the Red Cross work TOM: [Yawns] > and the >Surgical Dressings Committee, CROW: Even the name sounds boring. > in which Mary was the head of >a junior league. CROW: [Ned] Or maybe I could dance with Mary for Lieutenant Martin. >"Everybody in Shopton seems to be doing something to help >win the war," said Mary, JOEL: [Mary] Most are even paying their taxes. > and as there was just then a lull >in the talk between her father and Mr. Damon her words >sounded clearly. > >"Yes, everybody--that is, all but a few," said Mr. Nestor, CROW: [Mr. Nestor] Like Mr. Damon, here. >"and they ought to get busy. There are some young fellows in >this town that ought to be wearing khaki, JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] Working at Target. > and I don't mean >you, Ned Newton. You're doing your bit, all right." JOEL: [Ned] What do you mean? >"And so is Tom Swift!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, as if there >had been an implied accusation against the young inventor. JOEL: Gee -- you think? >"I heard, only to-day, that one of his inventions--a gas >helmet that he planned--is in use on the Western front in >Europe. CROW: [Mr. Damon] It'll soon phase out those out-dated coal-burning helmets. > Tom gave his patents to the government, JOEL: Under threat of deportation. > and even >made a lot of the helmets free to show other factories how >to turn them out to advantage." CROW: [Tom Swift] Weld it to every solider, so no air can get in. >"He did?" cried Mr. Nestor. TOM: [Tom Swift] I know -- I'll buy my way out of the trenches. >"That's what he did. Talk about doing your bit--" CROW: [Mr. Damon] I guess Tom is willing to go to any lengths to be exempted. >"I didn't know that," observed Mary's father slowly. "Do >you suppose it's a test of another gas helmet that Tom has >asked us out to see to-night?" CROW: Right. You'll drive out into a barrage of chlorine shells, and he'll come out wearing his new helmet so he can watch you all die. >"I hardly think so," said Ned. JOEL: Or at all, for that matter. MAGIC VOICE: That one was, again, from Jeff Wikstrom. JOEL: And that concludes the reader participation portion of our program. Thanks for playing, everyone! > "He wouldn't wait until >after dark for that TOM: Unless he wanted the air to be still during the test. JOEL: And the curtain of darkness to conceal his crime. > This is something big, and Tom must >intend to have it out in the open. He probably waited until >after sunset so the neighbors wouldn't come out in flocks. CROW: So what exactly is the point of inviting four people who have proven that they cannot keep a secret? >There's been a lot of talk about what is going on in Shop >Thirteen, JOEL: I hear it's the dissection of pilots from an alien spaceship! > especially since the arrest of the German spies, >and the least hint that a test is under way would bring out >a big crowd." TOM: In Shopton, the four of them constitute a "big" crowd. > >"I suppose so," agreed Mr. Nestor. "Well, I'm glad to know >that Tom is doing something for Uncle Sam, even if it's only >helping with gas helmets. CROW: [Mr. Nestor] Keeping our soldiers alive instead of killing theirs. Bah. > Those Germans are barbarians, if >ever there were any, and we've got to fight them the same >way they fight us! That's the only way to end the war! TOM: I think we've just seen the bloodiest century in history summarized in a book written for children. It kind of makes me want to cry. > Now >if I had my way, I'd take every German I could lay my hands >on--" CROW: [Mr. Nestor] Did I mention I was too old to serve? >"Father, pretzels!" exclaimed Mary. TOM: Tonight on "Non Sequitur Theater--" >"Eh? What's that, my dear?" > >"I said pretzels!" JOEL: [Mary] Hundreds of them! They're attacking the car! Oh my God, Tom's latest experiment must've gone horribly wrong! TOM: [Ned] What do you mean, Mary? >"Oh!" and Mr. Nestor's voice lost its sharpness. > >"That's my way of quieting father down when he gets too >strenuous in his talk about the war," explained Mary. JOEL: [Mary] Dad likes pretzels, and pretzels are German -- > "We >agreed that whenever he got excited I was to say 'pretzels' >to him, TOM: [Mary] We first tried "sauerkraut," but it didn't seem to work. > and that would make him remember. JOEL: [Mary] And if that doesn't help, I use the electrodes. > We made up our >little scheme after he got into an argument with a man on >the train and was carried past his station." CROW: [Mary] The man was kind enough to throw him overboard soon after, though. >"That's right," admitted Mr. Nestor, with a laugh. "But >that fellow was the most obstinate, pig-headed Dutchman that >ever tackled a plate of pig's knuckles and sauerkraut, and >if he had the least grain of common sense he'd--" JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] Why, he even claimed the _Lusitania_ was carrying weapons, and that the Royal Navy violated the international prize rules by stopping food ships on the way to Germany long before unrestricted U-Boat warfare -- >"Pretzels!" cried Mary. TOM: Finger poised over a button. >"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, JOEL: Like religion. > Mr. Damon >made the announcement: CROW: [Mr. Damon] You all make me sick. >"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. TOM: Must be a traction engine. >"What's that?" asked Mr. Nestor. CROW: Elephants playing baseball. TOM: Wearing armored plates. >"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?" TOM: Actually, it's more like the roar of a bulldozer, a rattling noise, and a screech as metal treads slide over pavement when it turns. But thank you for playing. >"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. TOM: Fat Albert! > The rumble and roar became >more pronounced and the ground shook as though from an >earthquake. CROW: Good thing the East Coast gets so many earthquakes, so they know what one feels like. >A glaring light shone out from the ponderous moving body, >and above the roar and rattle a voice called: TOM: [Tom Swift] None of you can escape me now! Ha! >"Out out of the way! We've lost control! Look out!" CROW: Setting up his alibi. >"Bless my steering wheel!" gasped Mr. Damon, >"that was Tom Swift's voice! But what is he >doing in that--thing?" JOEL: He's probably being eaten by it. CROW: Or trying to mow them down. >"It must be his new invention!" exclaimed Ned. ALL: [Dully] Yay, Ned. >"What is it?" asked Mr. Nestor. > >"A giant," ventured Ned. "It's a giant machine of some >sort and --" CROW: [Ned] It's a gigantic sauerkraut wagon! He's going to drive it the length of the Western Front and lure all the Germans into the North Sea! >"And it's running away!" TOM: Wasn't it just coming towards them? > cried Mr. Damon, as he quickly >steered his car to one side--and not a moment too soon! JOEL: Appleton's getting a bit too excited, here, for my tastes. > 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. TOM: Something obscene, I guess. CROW: [Tom Swift] ...hogging the whole road-- who taught you how to drive?! TOM: Time to go guys. [They exit they theater.] [1....2....3....4....5....6....SoL] [On the far right of the counter is a small cardboard box, one end upheld by a stick. Within is a plate laden with sauerkraut. JOEL enters from the right, reading "Return of the King." He pauses, sniffs in the air, and looks around. Spotting the box, he leans over to notice to the foodstuff within. Straightening up, he looks over to the left.] JOEL: Hey guys? Did you borrow my They Might Be Giants Commemorative Plates for your latest well-meaning but ultimately disastrous project? [Pan over to the left, away from the box, as CROW and TOM enter.] CROW: Oh, hi Joel! I see you've found our German Spy Trap! JOEL: ...your German Spy Trap? TOM: Well, of course, my good man! Although Appleton has dressed Eradicate in the stereotypical and offensive garb of an illiterate, ill-educated, and uncouth black man, he did also provide Eradicate with the only real character display of prudence, dedication, and initiative. CROW: Right. Eradicate has shown us that not only can German spies infiltrate even the most fiercely guarded complex, but also that Germans are absolutely unable to resist fresh sauerkraut. TOM: And let's face it, Joel, Germans are like cockroaches; for every one you actually see, there's another dozen lurking in the walls. CROW: Of course, Germans are like cockroaches in other ways, too, but.... TOM: So, we got these nifty German Traps from eBay, and have set them up at strategic positions of high German spy traffic. JOEL: Look, guys, I applaud your patriotism, but there's some startling facts that, like Ned, you seem to have overlooked. [Pause.] TOM: [hurt] Comparing us to Ned was uncalled for, Joel. JOEL: Tom, first of all, we're stranded in space. How could Germans get up here at all? CROW: Hey, don't underestimate them, Joel! They snuck into Tom's secret workshop brilliantly! JOEL: Uh, sure. But why would any Germans want to sneak in here? We're not working on any military secrets. [Pause.] JOEL: Or is there something you two haven't told me? TOM: [hedging] Well.... CROW: Joel, this fanfic has opened our visual sensory arrays to the danger from Germany! Every American must does his or her or its part to make sure that no vile Boche scum will ever desecrate our beloved soil with their inhuman footprint. JOEL: So you're building a tank, then? TOM: SSSH! Quiet, Joel! Do you want to blow our cover?! CROW: Yeah, Joel, c'mon! What the heck do you think that fence is for around deck thirteen for? JOEL: I had suspected that it was something you two were up to, but tried to make it go away by ignoring it. TOM: Well, Joel, there's no use in trying to ignore the German threat any longer. JOEL: Tom, for the last time-- [JOEL is cut off as a loud *THUMP* is heard from the right. Cambot zooms out to fully show the counter, and the cardboard box "entrapping" a struggling man dressed in a World War I era German military uniform. JOEL looks aghast. The Bots look delighted. The German spy is flailing about ineffectually about while screaming a wide variety of German curses.] JOEL: --the hell?! CROW: It worked! It worked! For once in my life my trap worked! TOM: Hah! We were right! German spies abound, but like the lure of siren, the wafting aroma of sauerkraut is too much for their evil will to resist. JOEL: But... but, why doesn't he just lift the box off his head? Or just stand up straight, even? CROW: Well, German spies aren't very smart, Joel. [Commercial light starts to flash. The German Spy continues to "struggle."] JOEL: Well, now that we have one, I'm not sure what to do with him. BOTS: BURN HIM! BURN HIM! JOEL: You guys are Amnesty International material through and through. I could just cry. [to Cambot] We'll be right back. [He swats the flasher.] [Bumper] [The trio enter the Theater.] TOM: I still can't believe that you wouldn't let us stick the spy in the furnace. JOEL: Sorry guys, but with all the wax in his mustache, it would have stunk up the place pretty bad. Gypsy'll turn him over to the proper authorities. Or just dump him on the next spaceship that boards us. CROW: Too bad Ned already left.... >Chapter XI > >Tom's Tank CROW: Oh, I get it now! He's building a *tank!* >"What was it?" gasped Mary, and, to her surprise, she >found herself close to Ned, clutching his arm. TOM: Understandable that she would get comfort and support from the father of her unborn child. >"I have an idea, [Joel & the Bots provide us with a chorus of disbelieving snorts.] > but I'd rather let Tom tell you," he >answered. CROW: [Ned] He knows big words and stuff. >"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?" JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] Hey... maybe it has something to do with the test! >"Oh, there must be some mistake, I'm sure," returned his >daughter. "Tom didn't intend this." CROW: [Mary] He missed us. >"But, bless my insurance policy, look at that thing go! >What in the world is it?" cried Mr. Damon. JOEL: I think it's a golf cart for General Pershing. CROW: I think it's Tom's float for the Miss Trench Foot parade. TOM: I think it's a mobile justice system. Just toss anyone with a German name on the conveyer belt, and it confiscates their property and grinds them up for disposal. >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 fashion. TOM: It's the wackiest tank in the Army! >"Maybe we'd better take after it," suggested Mr. Nestor. >"If Tom is--" JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] -- Going to destroy Shopton, we should stop him. >"There, it's stopping !" cried Ned. "Come on!" CROW: [Ned] I have to interrupt somebody, and Tom's not here. >He sprang from the automobile, helped Mary to get out, CROW: Her pregnancy must be quite advanced. > and >then the two, followed by Mr. Damon and Mr. Nestor, made >their way across the fields toward the big object where it >had come to a stop, the rumbling and roaring ceasing. TOM: [Tom Swift] This time we got it to go half a mile before breaking down -- that's more than the front line's moved since the Battle of the Marne! >Before the little party reached the strange machine--the >"runaway giant," as they dubbed it in their excitement-- JOEL: It took them a full minute of concentrated thought. > a >bright light flashed from it, a light that illuminated their >path right up to the monster. And in the glare of this light >they saw Tom Swift stepping out through a steel door in the >side of the affair. CROW: Just like Gort in "The Day the Earth Stood Still." TOM: The story was cooler than the movie in this bot's opinion. JOEL: Hey. >"Are you all right?" he called to his friends, as they >approached. > >"All right, as nearly as we can be when we've been almost >scared to death, Tom," said Mr. Nestor. TOM: [Tom Swift] Damn! I mean, great! >"I'm surely sorry for what happened," Tom answered, with a >relieved CROW: Read, "dishonest." > laugh. "Part of the steering gear broke and I had >to guide it by operating the two motors alternately. TOM: [Tom Swift] Stopping the engine was, of course, out of the question. > It can >be worked that way, but it takes a little practice to become >expert." TOM: [Tom Swift] So I decided to practice on a public road, where I wouldn't risk demolishing something I owned. >"I should say so!" cried Mr. Damon. "But what in the world >does it all mean, Tom Swift? You invite us out to see >something--" JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] Yes, boy, what did you want us to see? CROW: [Ned] Is it a new gas mask? TOM: [Mary] Does it have something to do with the war? >"And there she is!" interrupted the young inventor. [JOEL, CROW, and TOM simultaneously] JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] Oh, I get it! CROW: [Ned] Oh, I get it! TOM: [Mary] Oh, I get it! > "You >saw her a little before I meant you to, and not under >exactly the circumstances I had planned. CROW: Entailing a very close inspection of the moving treads. > But there she is!" >And he turned as though introducing the metallic monster to >his friends. > >"What is she, Tom?" asked Ned. "Name it!" TOM: [Tom Swift] I named it after you, Ned -- Potato-Head 1. CROW: With a skull so dense nothing gets through to the rattling gears inside. >"My latest invention, or rather the invention of my father >and myself," answered Tom, and his voice showed the love and >reverence he felt for his parent. CROW: Which is to say, not much. > "Perhaps I should say >adaptation instead of invention," Tom went on, "since that >is what it is. TOM: [Tom Swift] But you probably don't understand the word "adaptation." > But, at any rate, it's my latest--dad's and >mine--and it's the newest, biggest, most improved and >powerful fighting tank that's been turned out of any shop, >as far as I can learn. CROW: And unless their security is better than his, believe me, he'd know. >"Ladies--I mean lady and gentlemen--allow me to present to >you War Tank A, JOEL: What an inspiring name. Even "International Space Station" is better than that. > and may she rumble till the pride of the >Boche is brought low and humble!" cried Tom. TOM: [Tom Swift] Poet and engineer! God, I'm magnificent. >"Hurray! That's what I say!" cheered Ned. JOEL: About all the words he knows. >"That's what I have been at work on lately. CROW: Thank you for clearing that up. > I'll give you >a little history of it, and then you may come inside and >have a ride home." > >"In that?" cried Mr. Damon. JOEL: Mr. Damon, like Ned, does not understand pronouns. >"Yes. I can't promise to move as speedily as your car, but TOM: [Tom Swift] I can promise we'll crush everything in our path. It's fun! >I can make better time than the British tanks. They go about >six miles an hour, I understand, and I've got mine geared to >ten. That's one improvement dad and I have made." CROW: It goes all the way up to eleven. >"Ride in that!" cried Mr. Nestor. "Tom, I like you, and >I'm glad to see I've been mistaken about you. TOM: [Tom Swift] It's all right, sir -- I know you're an idiot. > You have been >doing your bit, after all; but--" > >"Oh, I've only begun!" laughed Tom Swift. TOM: [Tom Swift] From now on, *I* do the interrupting! *I have a tank!* >"Well, no matter about that. However much I like you," CROW: To say, zero. >went on Mr. Nestor, "I'd as soon ride on the wings of a >thunderbolt as in Tank A, Tom Swift." CROW: Thunderbolts have wings? >"Oh, it isn't as bad as that!" laughed the young >scientist. "But neither is it a limousine. CROW: Uh-huh. Tom's doing an awful lot of laughing. [TOM unleashes gales of maniacal laughter] > However, come >inside, anyhow, and I'll tell you something about it. JOEL: Security? What's that? > Then >I guess we can guide it back. CROW: [Gadget] There should be no problem. > The men are repairing the >break." > >The visitors entered the great craft through the door by >which Tom had emerged. JOEL: An usher led them to the waiting line for the next tour group. > At first all they saw was a small >compartment, with walls of heavy steel, some shelves of the >same and a seat which folded up against the wall made of >like powerful material. JOEL: Yes, it's the mightiest chair in the world! TOM: Not as nice as John's Comfy Chair, though. CROW: What is? >"This is supposed to be the captain's room, where he stays >when he directs matters." Tom explained. "The machinery is >below and beyond here." TOM: [Tom Swift] That's where the slaves work. >"How'd you come to evolve this?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Three Emerald Crystals and a Fire Combat badge! > asked Ned. "I haven't >seen half enough of the outside, to say nothing of the >inside." CROW: Maybe that's why Tom invited you in. Yes? >"You'll have time enough," Tom said. "This is my first >completed tank. There are some improvements to be made >before we send it to the other side to be copied. CROW: He's sending it to the Germans to be copied? JOEL: Tom slips his plan. >"Then they'll make them in England as well as here, and >from here we'll ship them in sections." TOM: [Tom Swift] And boats. >"I don't see how you ever thought of it!" exclaimed the >girl, in wonder. TOM: [Tom Swift] I guess I never mentioned this -- I'm an engineer. >"Well, I didn't all at once," Tom answered, with a laugh. JOEL: Each one more devilish than the last. >"It came by degrees. I first got the idea when I heard of >the British tanks. TOM: [Tom Swift] That's why I named it a 'tank.' >"When I had read how they went into action and what they >accomplished against the barbed wire entanglements, and how >they crossed the trenches, I concluded that a bigger tank, >one capable of more speed, say ten or twelve miles an hour, >and one that could cross bigger excavations--the English >tanks up to this time can cross a ditch of twelve feet--I >thought that, with one made on such specifications, more >effective work could be done against the Germans." CROW: That's why he's the engineer. >"And will yours do that?" asked Ned. "I mean will it do >ten miles an hour, CROW: [Ned] I ask again because you've only mentioned it once before. > and straddle over a wider ditch than >twelve feet?" > >"It'll do both," promptly answered Tom. "We did a little >better than eleven miles an hour a while ago when I yelled >to you to get out of the way just now. JOEL: And it's a good thing he did -- they would never have figured that out for themselves. TOM: Armored vehicles do get right of way, yes. The driver can't see you, can't hear you, and can't stop. CROW: Yet another argument backing the guiltlessness of trains. > It's true we weren't >under good control, TOM: [Tom Swift] I missed you, after all. > but the speed had nothing to do with >that. JOEL: As a civilian with a driver's license, I tend to have issues with that line. > And as for going over a big ditch, I think we >straddled one about fourteen feet across back there, and we >can do better when I get my grippers to working." > >"Grippers!" exclaimed Mary. JOEL: [Mary] I thought the grippers were our little secret, Tom. >"What kind of trench slang is that, Tom Swift?" asked Mr. >Damon. JOEL: [Mr. Damon] It sounds dirty. >"Well, that's a new idea I'm going to try out It's >something like this," and while from a distant part of the >interior of Tank A came the sound of hammering, CROW: Now we know how Santa's elves stay busy during the off season. > the young >inventor rapidly drew a rough pencil sketch. TOM: [Tom Swift] This is how I envision my future national monument to look. Note the many pews for worship. >It showed the tank in outline, much as appear the pictures >of tanks already in service--the former simile of two wedge- >shaped pieces of metal put together broad end to broad end, >still holding good. TOM: Sorry, but I still prefer "trapezoid." > From one end of the tank, as Tom drew >it, there extended two long arms of latticed steel >construction. TOM: [Tom Swift] And these are the electro-fists to punch Fritz in the face! >"The idea is," said Tom, "to lay these down in front of >the tank, JOEL: For sacrifice. > by means of cams and levers operated from inside. >If we get to a ditch which we can't climb down into and out >again, or bridge with the belt caterpillar wheels, we'll use >the grippers. They'll be laid down, taking a grip on the far >side of the trench, and we'll slide across on them." CROW: Leaving the tank behind. >"And leave them there?" asked Mr. Damon. > >"No, we won't leave them. We'll pick them up after we have >passed over them and use them in front again as we need >them. TOM: [Tom Swift] It may be risky to do this under fire, but that's what enlisted men are for. > A couple of extra pairs of grippers may be carried for >emergencies, JOEL: So they do not actually grip anything. > but I plan to use the same ones over and over >again." JOEL: [Mary] So they are not those little pinchy things we -- >"But what makes it go?" asked Mary. JOEL: A motor? > "I don't want all the >details, Tom," she said, with a smile, "but I'd like to know >what makes your tank move." TOM: [Tom Swift] [*sigh*] Magical faeries. >"I'll be able to show you in a little while," he answered. >"But it may be enough now if I tell you that the main power >consists of two big gasolene engines, one on either side. TOM: [Tom Swift] Auxiliary power is supplied by the crew getting out and pushing. >They can be geared to operate together or separately. And >these engines turn the endless belts made of broad, steel >plates, on which the tank travels. The belts pass along the >outer edges of the tank longitudinally, and go around cogged >wheels at either end of the blunt noses. JOEL: [Appleton] This was all explained back in Chapter 2, but I get paid by the word. >"When both belts travel at the same rate of speed the tank >goes in a straight line, though it can be steered from side >to side by means of a trailer wheel in the rear. JOEL: Sounds like riding a Big-Wheel backwards. > Making one >belt--one set of caterpillar wheels, you know--go faster >than the other will make the tank travel to one side or the >other, the turn being in the direction of the slowest moving >belt. In this way we can steer when the trailer wheels are >broken." CROW: And we just saw how good that works, yes? >"And what does your tank do except travel along, not >minding a hail of bullets?" asked Mr. Nestor. TOM: [Tom Swift] Good point. I better put guns on it. >"Well," answered Tom, "it can do anything any other tank >can do, and then some more. JOEL: [singing] Anything you can do, I can do better.... > It can demolish a good-sized >house or heavy wall, break down big trees, TOM: [Tom Swift] Of course, there aren't more than eight or nine intact walls or trees left in France, but ... > and chew up >barbed-wire fences as if they were toothpicks. TOM: [Tom Swift] I'm starting to sound a lot like a John Nowak character, aren't I? > I'll show you >all that in due time. Just now, if the repairs are finished, >we can get back on the road--" CROW: After running a fifty-ton, caterpillar-tread across it, there is no road. >At that moment a door leading into the compartment where >Tom and his friends were talking opened, and one of the >workmen said: > >"A man outside asking to see you, Mr. Swift." JOEL: [Man] Hi! Are you the head of this tankhold? TOM: [Tom Swift] Uhm... JOEL: [Man] I'll bet your tank could use some of these wonderful brushes I'm selling -- >"Pardon me, but I won't keep you a moment," interrupted a >suave voice. "I happened to observe your tank, JOEL: [Man] Being substantially more observant than your friends. > and I took >the liberty of entering to see CROW: So people can just walk into this tank? That might be a problem on the battlefield... >"Simpson!" cried Ned Newton, as he recognized the man who >had been up the tree. "It's that spy, Simpson, Tom!" TOM: [Tom Swift] Even my carefully planned security measures failed to keep him out... >Chapter XII > >Bridging a Gap > > >Such surprise showed both on the face of Ned Newton and >that of the man who called himself Walter Simpson that it >would be hard to say which was in the greater degree. CROW: Since first each man's intelligence would need to be measured, which is difficult to achieve on a sub-atomic scale. > For a >moment the newcomer stood as if he had received all electric >shock, TOM: Rather than the 80% electricity / 20% polyester blend he was used to. > and was incapable of motion. Then, as the echoes of >Ned's voice died away JOEL: Slowly in his hollow brain cavity. > and the young bank clerk, being the >first to recover from the shock, made a motion toward the >unwelcome and uninvited intruder, Simpson exclaimed. CROW: Most intruders are unwelcome and uninvited, yes. > >"I will not bother now. Some other time will do as well." JOEL: [Herr 'Simpson'] There. That will fool them. >Then, with a haste that could be called nothing less than >precipitate, JOEL: Oh, it's raining? CROW: That hurt, Joel. > he made a turn and fairly shot out of the door >by which he had entered the tank. CROW: I'm confused. Since they were up on the top floor of the tank, doesn't this mean he just ran off a ten foot tall ledge? > >"There he goes!" cried Mr. Damon. TOM: [singing] There he goes again.... > "Bless my speedometer, >but there he goes!" TOM: [Mr. Damon] Let's sit and watch. >"I'll stop him!" cried Ned. "We've got to find out more >about him! I'll get him, Tom!" TOM: [Tom Swift] You do that, Ned! [Mutters] If only Simpson is armed... >Tom Swift was not one to let a friend rush alone into what >might be danger. JOEL: Not even Ned? > He realized immediately what his chum meant >when he called out the identity of the intruder, JOEL: Wow. The moment Ned said he was that spy, Simpson, Tom realized he was a spy named Simpson. CROW: Tom Swift really is the brains of the outfit. > and, >wishing to clear up some of the mystery of which he became >aware when Schwen was arrested and the paper showing a >correspondence with this Simpson were found, TOM: But they never did establish that the coded correspondence implicated Simpson in any way. JOEL: It was signed 'Walter Simpson,' and, as we all know, a spy will use his cover name on all incriminating documents. > Tom darted out >to try to assist in the capture. CROW: Instead of ordering the crew of the tank to help him. >"He went this way!" cried Ned, who was visible in the >glare of the searchlight CROW: That Tom built, no doubt. > that still played its powerful >beams over the stern of the tank, TOM: The sequel to this is "Tom Swift and his Impropmtu Discothque." > if such an ungainly >machine can be said to have a bow and stern. "Over this >way!" TOM: [Tom Swift] Oh, if only I had guns on this thing. >"I'm with you!" cried Tom. "See if you can pick up that >man who just ran out of here!" JOEL: Tom knew Ned would need the reminder. > he cried to the operator of >the searchlight in the elevated observation section of what >corresponded to the conning tower of a submarine. This was a >sort of lookout box on top of the tank, containing, among >other machines, CROW: [Mouth] Never go up there; it's filled with Mr. Walsh's sexual torture devices. > the searchlight. "Pick him up!" cried Tom. TOM: [Tom Swift] I'm right with you Ned! In spirit, at least! >The operator flashed the intense white beam, like a finger >of light, around in eccentric circles. CROW: Mary blushed at gestures even she understood. > but though this >brought into vivid relief the configuration of the field and >road near which the tank was stalled, it showed no running >fugitive. TOM: Harrison Ford had escaped. > Tom and Ned were observed--shadows of black in the >glare--by Mary and her friends in the tank, but there was no >one else. JOEL: [Herr 'Simpson'] I thought I had dot American schwein 'Ned' fooled -- clearly, I underestimated him... ooo, sauerkraut. >"Come on!" cried Ned. "We can find him, Tom!" > >But this was easier said than done. JOEL: Most things are, actually. > Even though they were >aided by the bright light, they caught no glimpse of the man >who called himself Simpson. TOM: It'd be kinda neat if Mr. Simpson ran all the way back to Flanders, only to be replaced by Mr. Burns from 'Smithers.' >"Guess he got away," said Tom, when he and Ned had circled >about and investigated many clumps of bushes, trees, stumps >and other barriers that might conceal the fugitive. CROW: All they found were non-German bodies. >"I guess so," agreed Ned. "Unless he's hiding in what we >might call a shell crater." JOEL: But we call corn. >"Hardly that," and Tom smiled. "Though if all goes well >the men who operate this tank later may be searching for men >in real shell holes." CROW: [Ned] I did not think of that. >"Is this one going to the other side?" asked Ned, as the >two walked back toward the tank. TOM: [Tom Swift] No, it's for the Allies. >"I hope it will be the first of my new machines on the >Western front," Tom answered. "But I've still got to perfect >it in some details JOEL: Like basic steering and door locks, apparently. > and then take it apart. After that, if it >comes up to expectations, TOM: How much will it be able to do once you dismantle it? > we'll begin making them in >quantities." > >"Did you get him?" asked Mr. Damon eagerly, as the two >young men came back to join Mary and her friends. TOM: [Tom Swift] You bet. Here's his ears and tail. >"No, he got away," Tom answered. > >"Did he try to blow up the tank?" asked Mr. Nestor, who >had an abnormal fear of explosives. CROW: But he doesn't mind encouraging Tom to go to the Western Front. JOEL: Personally, I think it'd be more abnormal to have an attraction *to* explosives. TOM: [Industrial Arts guy] And I put them in my underwear! > "Was he a German spy?" > >"I think he's that, all right," said Ned grimly. JOEL: So consider the source. > "As to >his endeavoring to blow up Tom's tank, I helieve him capable >of it, though he didn't try it to-night--unless he's planted >a time bomb somewhere about, Tom." CROW: Why would he be running around with a time bomb? On the off chance he could sneak into a tank? >"Hardly, I guess," answered the young inventor. "He didn't >have a chance to do that. Anyhow we won't remain here long. >Now, Ned, what about this chap? Is he really the one you saw >up in the tree?" CROW: [Ned] No, I was just kidding. Why? >"I not only saw him but I felt him," answered Ned, with a >rueful look at his fingers. "He stepped right on me. CROW: [Ned] So I recognized him instantly when I saw his weight. > And >when he came inside the tank to-night I knew him at once. I >guess he was as surprised to see me as I was to see him." TOM: Spies are just as frightened of you as you are of them. >"But what was his object?" asked Mr. Nestor. > >"He must have some connection with my old enemy, >Blakeson," CROW: It's all about Tom Swift, isn't it? > answered Tom, "and we know he's mixed up with >Schwen. TOM: [Tom Swift] I recognized Schwen's left ear on him. > From the looks of him I should say that this >Simpson, as he calls himself, is the directing head of the >whole business. He looks to be the moneyed man, and the >brains of the plotters. CROW: And spies never deceive you with their appearance. > Blakeson is smart, in a mechanical >way, and Schwen is one of the best machinists I've ever >employed. But this Simpson strikes me as being the slick one >of the trio." TOM: [Tom Swift] Granted, that's like saying Moe is the brains behind the Stooges, but... >"But what made him come here, and what did he want?" asked >Mary. JOEL: She's a credit to her gender. > "Dear me! it's like one of those moving picture plots, >only I never saw one JOEL: [Mary] Quite this lame and obvious. > with a tank in it before--I mean a tank >like yours, Tom." > >"Yes, it is a bit like moving picture-- TOM: [Tom Swift] She's my best shot at an heir -- better keep her sweet. > especially chasing >Simpson by searchlight," agreed the young inventor. JOEL: I bet at this point Appleton was trying to get Hollywood interested in the franchise. > "As to >what he wanted, I suppose he came to spy out some of my >secret inventions--dad's and mine. TOM: [Tom Swift] You see, I'm working on a tank. CROW: [Ned] What's a tank? > He's probably been hiding >and sneaking around the works ever since we arrested Schwen. TOM: [Tom Swift] Like a loathsome, sauerkraut-eating human rat. >Some of my men have reported seeing strangers about, but I >have kept Shop Thirteen well guarded. TOM: [Tom Swift] So well guarded, in fact, that only two German spies were found working there. JOEL: And a number of people tried to sneak past Koku. TOM: Yeah, I forgot them. So did Appleton. >"However, this fellow may have been waiting outside, and >he may have followed the tank when we started off a little >while ago for the night test. Then, when he saw our mishap >and noticed that we were stalled, he came in, boldly enough, TOM: Where no German spy had gone before. JOEL: Well, just one or two, anyway. >thinking, I suppose, that, as I had never seen him, he would >take a chance on getting as much information as he could in >a hurry." TOM: [Tom Swift] Note to self: add a door with a lock to my tank. >"But he didn't count on Ned's being here!" chuckled Mr. >Damon. JOEL: Yeah, that would have had him quaking in his boots, okay. >"No; that's where he slipped a cog," remarked Mr. Nestor. >"Well, Tom, I like your tank, what I've seen of her, but >it's getting late and I think Mary and I had better be >getting back home." TOM: [Tom Swift] Can I give you a lift? >"We'll be ready to start in a little while," Tom said, >after a brief consultation with one of his men. "Still, >perhaps it would be just as well if you didn't ride back >with me. She may go all right, and then, again, she may not. TOM: [Tom Swift] I just remembered this is an experimental vehicle. >And as it's dark, and we're in a rough part of the field, >you might be a bit shaken up. TOM: [Tom Swift] Suspension? What's a suspension? > Not that the tank minds it!" CROW: [Tank A] Speak for yourself, pink boy. >the young inventor hastened to add "She's got to do her bit >over worse places than this--much worse-- TOM: [Tom Swift] Places people will be shooting at it. > but I want to get >her in a little better working shape first. So if you don't >mind, Mary, I'll postpone your initial trip." CROW: Tom's flighty. >"Oh, I don't mind, Tom! I'm so glad you've made this! I >want to see the war ended, and I think machines like this >will help." CROW: Hey -- Mary thinks World War I is a bad thing. TOM: She's a girl -- she's allowed. >"I'll ride back with you, Tom, if you don't mind," put in >Ned. "I guess a little shaking up won't hurt me." CROW: [Ned] Dad used to shake me all the time when I was a baby. >"All right--stick. TOM: I like slang from 1910. > We're going to start very soon." > >"Well, I'm coming over to-morrow to have a look at it by >daylight," said Mr. Damon, as he started toward his car. TOM: [Tom Swift] He thinks he'll survive the night -- heh. >"So am I," added Mary. "Please call for me, Mr. Damon." > >"I will," he promised." CROW: Wow -- she must be a Victory Girl, one war early. >Mr. Nestor, his daughter, and Mr. Damon went back to the >automobile, while Ned remained with Tom. CROW: [Ned] Okay, we're alone! TOM: [Tom Swift] Come here, my little crankshaft... CROW: [Ned] Rrrrowr... > In a little while >those in the car heard once more the rumbling and roaring >sound and felt the earth tremble. TOM: Later, Stephen Spielberg would swipe this scene for "Jurassic Park." > Then, with a flashing of >lights, the big, ungainly shape of the tank lifted herself >out of the little ditch in which she had come to a halt, and >began to climb back to the road. JOEL: [Mr. Nestor] Look out for that cat [MeeROW!] Look out for that tree! [Crunch] Look out for that pedestrian! [Squish] >Ned Newton stood beside Tom in the control tower of the >great tank as she started on her homeward way. JOEL: Basking in reflected glory. >"Isn't it wonderful!" murmured Mary, as she saw Tank A CROW: Made in Canada, apparently. TOM: What? CROW: [Bob McKenzie] Tank, eh? TOM: Oh. ...that's a bit of a stretch. >lumbering along toward the road. "Oh, and to think that >human beings made that To think that Tom should know how to >build such a wonderful machine!" CROW: [Mary] Why, I wonder if he could get a job as an engineer or something. >"And run it, too, Mary! That's the point! Make it run!" >cried her father. "I tell you, that Tom Swift is a wonder!" ALL: Hail Tom Swift, filled with Grace, the Author is with thee. >"Bless my dictionary, he sure is!" agreed Mr. Damon. ALL: Blessed art thou among gearheads, and blessed is the fruit of thy brain, Tank A. >Along the road, back toward the shop whence it had >emerged, rumbled the tank. The noise brought to their doors >inhabitants along the country thoroughfare, CROW: He ran the test at night to avoid this, right? > and some of them >were frightened when they saw Tom Swift's latest war >machine, JOEL: And lo, they were sore afraid, but Tom spake saying Fear not, for I bring thee tidings of great joy, which shall be for all non-German people. > the details of which they could only guess at in >the darkness. TOM: [Ma Kettle] I'm guessing it's a fifteen-centimeter track with twin gasoline engines. CROW: [Pa Kettle] Twin engines by cracky? How do that youngster keep them synchronized? >"She'll butt over a house if it gets in her path, TOM: [Tom Swift] *Skruntch* See? > knock >down trees, TOM: [Tom Swift] *K-krak!* See? > chew up barbed-wire, TOM: [Tom Swift] Farmer Houston just installed a new fence. *Crinklecrinklecrack* See? > and climb down into ravines >and out again, and go over a good-sized stream without a >whimper," TOM: [Tom Swift] Lots of gurgles, though. > said Tom, as he steered the great machine. CROW: Over the little village of Shopton, laughing merrily. >There was little chance then for Ned to see much of the >inside mechanism of the tank. JOEL: Tom's coolness was overwhelming. > He observed that Tom, standing >in the forward tower, steered it very easily by a small >wheel or by a lever, alternately, and that he communicated >with the engine room by means of electric signals. TOM: [Tom Swift] Now this button connects with an electrode on the engineer's left arm, and it means "Go Faster, Damn You, Obey the Will of Swift!" >"And she steers by electricity, too," Tom told his friend. >"That was one difficulty with the first tanks. They had to >be steered by brute force, so to speak, and it was a >terrific strain on the man in the tower. TOM: Power steering. Considering this is 1918, Appleton deserves some credit. > Now I can guide >this in two ways: by the electric mechanism which swings the >trailer wheels to either side, or by varying the speed of >the two motors that work the caterpillar belts. So if one >breaks down, I have the other." JOEL: As has been said before. CROW: If one motor breaks down, though, won't he only go in circles? >"Got any guns aboard her--I mean machine guns?" asked Ned. CROW: [Ned] I like machine guns. >"Not yet. But I'm going to install some. I wanted to get >the tank in proper working order first. The guns are only >incidental, JOEL: I kinda thought they're the whole point. > though of course they're vitally necessary when >she goes into action. TOM: Incidental, but vitally necessary. Gotcha. > I've got 'em all ready to put in. But >first I'm going to try the grippers." > >"Oh, you mean the gap-bridgers?" asked Ned. TOM: [Tom Swift] No, dickweed, the grippers. >"That's it," answered Tom. "Look out, we're going over a >rough spot now." TOM: [Tom Swift] It's the only remaining nest of Passenger Pigeons in New York. (Crunch) >And they did. Ned was greatly shaken up, and fairly tossed >from side to side of the steering tower. For the tank >contained no springs, JOEL: And Tom had "forgotten" that his best friend would be bounced around violently in a steel box. > except such as were installed around >the most delicate machinery, and it was like riding in a >dump cart over a very rough road. CROW: Plus the strong possibility of smashing your skull. >"However, that's part of the game," Tom observed. TOM: [Tom Swift] A game I like to call 'Die, Ned; Die!' >Tank A reached her "harbor" safely--in other words, the >machine shop enclosed by the high fence, inside of which she >had been built. CROW: [Ned] Wow -- I didn't notice this high fence before. >Tom and Ned made some inquiries of Koku and Eradicate as >to whether or not there had been any unusual sights or >sounds about the place. JOEL: [Koku] Just heap big tank, master. > They feared Simpson might have come >to the shop to try to get possession of important drawings >or data. TOM: Yeah, right. He's halfway to Berlin by now. He's been accused of being a spy, what -- twice? JOEL: He's an Appleton character. TOM: Okay, he'll show up again. >But all had been quiet, Koku reported Nor had Eradicate >seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. JOEL: Strangely, Tom was not reassured. >"Then I guess we'll lock up and turn in," decided Tom. >"Come over to-morrow, Ned." CROW: [Ned] I will come on my Hy-Phen-Ated Trans-Port. >"I will," promised the young bank clerk. "I want to see >more of what makes the wheels go round." And he laughed at >his own ingenuousness. JOEL: Isn't that our job? >The next day Tom showed his friends as much as they cared >to see about the workings of the tank. TOM: Which wasn't much. > They inspected the >powerful gasolene engines, saw how they worked the endless >belts made of plates of jointed steel, which, running over >sprocket wheels, really gave the tank its power by providing >great tractive force. CROW: Better describe caterpillar treads one more time, Appleton. >Any self-propelled vehicle depends for its power, either >to move itself or to push or to pull, on its tractive force- >-that is, the grip it can get on the ground. TOM: Stands to reason. >In the case of a bicycle little tractive power is needed, >and this is provided by the rubber tires, which grip the >ground. CROW: Wait -- let me take this down. > A locomotive depends for its tractive power on its >weight pressing on its driving wheels, and the more driving >wheels there are and the heavier the locomotive, the more it >can pull, though in that case speed is lost. JOEL: This is described in great detail in "Tom Swift and His Electric Locomotive." > This is why >freight locomotives are so heavy and have so many large >driving wheels. They pull the engine along, and the cars >also, by their weight pressing on the rails. CROW: Will this be on the test? >The endless steel belts of a tank are, the same as the >wheels of a locomotive. TOM: Except for being entirely different. > And the belts, being very broad, >which gives them a large surface with which to press on the >ground, and the tank being very heavy, great power to >advance is thus obtained, though at the sacrifice of speed. TOM: Say what you like, this is still more interesting than the bit in "Under the Bridge" about model rockets. >However, Tom Swift had made his tank so that it would do >about ten miles and more an hour, nearly double the progress >obtained up to that time by the British machines. JOEL: As has been mentioned before. >His visitors saw the great motors, they inspected the >compact but not very attractive living quarters of the crew, CROW: A Motel 6 on wheels. >for provision had to be made for the men to stay in the tank >if, perchance, it became stalled in No Man's Land, >surrounded by the enemy. TOM: Why? The enemy could just walk in and bayonet everyone. >The tank was powerfully armored and would be armed. There >were a number of machine guns to be installed, quick-firers >of various types, and in addition the tank could carry a >number of riflemen. JOEL: You know, it's interesting to point out that the early tanks actually filled the same role that would be filled by an Infantry Fighting Vehicle today. TOM: You're wrong, Joel. That's not interesting. >It was upon the crushing power of the tank, though, that >most reliance was placed. TOM: It didn't work against Tom's friends, I noticed. > Thus it could lead the way for an >infantry advance through the enemy's lines, making nothing >of barbed wire that would take an artillery fire of several >days to cut to pieces. TOM: Yes, folks, they really did try to cut barbed wire with artillery. And no, it didn't work very well. >"And now, Ned," said Tom, about a week after the night >test of the tank, "I'm going to try what she'll do in >bridging a gap." > >"Have you got her in shape again?" TOM: [Tom Swift] No, I thought I'd try her out when she isn't running. >"Yes, everything is all right. I've taken out the weak >part in the steering gear that nearly caused us to run you >down, TOM: [Tom Swift] Next time I'll hit you. > and we're safe in that respect now. TOM: [Tom Swift] In all other respects, this thing a Hindenburg waiting to happen. > And I've got the >grippers made. It only remains to see whether they're strong >enough to bear the weight of my little baby," TOM: [Tom Swift] Because testing it over a concrete trench a few inches deep is out of the question. > and Tom >affectionately patted the steel sides of Tank A. JOEL: Tom likes his tank more than he likes any of the characters in the book. CROW: Well, wouldn't you? >While his men were getting the machine ready for a test >out on the road, and for a journey across a small stream not >far away, Tom told his chum about conceiving the idea for >the tank and carrying it out secretly with the aid of his >father and certain workmen. CROW: [Ned] Tom, you should have built a secret workshop with a fence -- >"That's the reason the government exempted me from >enlisting," Tom said. "They wanted me to finish this tank. I >didn't exactly want to, but I considered it my 'bit.' After >this I'm going into the army, Ned." TOM: [Tom Swift] The Mexican Army -- they're not in the war. >"Glad to hear it, old man. Maybe by that time I'll have >this Liberty Bond work finished, and I'll go with you. CROW: [Ned] I'll sell every Liberty Bond in the world! > We'll >have great times together! JOEL: I'd just like to go on the record here saying that I find the depiction of active service in World War I as "great times" to be an obscene insult to the soldiers who survived it and to the millions of friends they left behind. We now return to our previously scheduled mindless call to cannon-fodder. > Have you heard anything more of >Simpson, Blakeson and Scoundrels?" And Ned laughed as he >named this "firm." TOM: Hmm. "Gear-Head and Butt-Head." >"No," answered Tom. "I guess we scared off that slick >German spy." JOEL: Or maybe he's fooling you, Tom. I hear spies try that sometimes. TOM: I'm not convinced; he was outwitted by Ned. >Once more the tank lumbered out along the road. It was a >mighty engine of war, CROW: Uhm, I just realized -- he's driving a tank along a public road and on land he doesn't own. > and inside her rode Tom and Ned. Mary >and her father had been invited, but the girl could not >quite get her courage to the point of accepting, JOEL: Or maybe she was just too smart to take a joyride in an experimental vehicle. > nor did Mr. >Nestor care to go. CROW: He had found another civilian of military age, and was busily impugning his character, manhood, and patriotism. > Mr. Damon, however, as might be guessed, >was there. JOEL: Oh, crud. >"Bless my monkey wrench, Tom!" TOM: [Tom Swift] God, no!! > cried the eccentric man, as >he noted their advance over some rough ground, "are you >really going to make this machine cross Tinkle Creek on a >bridge of steel you carry with you?" TOM: Did he really say "Tinkle Creek?" >"I'm going to try, Mr. Damon." > >A little later, after a successful test up and down a >small gully, Tank A arrived at the edge of Tinkle Creek, CROW: I guess he did. > a >small stream about twenty feet wide, not far from Tom's >home. At the point selected for the test the banks were high >and steep. JOEL: Well, it's a good thing only essential crew is aboard. TOM: [Tom Swift] Bosom chum? CROW: [Ned] Present. TOM: [Tom Swift] Comic relief? JOEL: [Mr. Damon] Present. TOM: [Tom Swift] And I guess the guys who work the machines and stuff are somewhere... >"If she bridges that gap she'll do anything," murmured >Ned, as the tank came to a stop on the edge. CROW: [Ned] Fly, even. TOM: Time for us to, anyways. [They exit the Theater.] [1....2....3....4....5....6....SoL] [The bridge is currently empty, and the lights are dimmed.] JOEL: [O.S., in a deep and cultured tone] Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the Theater of Love. Today, we have a special treat for you all, in our reproduction of the classic English masterpiece translated from the Latin adaptation of the Hittite original drama, "Tom Swift and his Aryan Plutocrat Chums." [The lights gradually rise.] JOEL: [O.S.] Act One; Tom's Big Secret [TOM and CROW enter from the side. TOM is dressed as he was for his brief stint as "Tom Perfect," while CROW's dress bears an uncanny resemblance to Ned's get-up in the Host Segment chapters earlier. They both speak in an annoyingly cheerful mixed tone of puberty-past-due boyhood and unfettered WASPness.] TOM: Well, my most certainly unworthy chum, I must depart, and work on one of my ultra secret projects! CROW: What do you mean, Tom? TOM: I mean that I must now hither to yon gargantuan secret building that dominates the skyline, complete with watchtowers and behemoth searchlights, and work away on my latest creation of mechanical marvel and might. CROW: What do you mean Tom? TOM: [laughs jovially] Ah, Ned, your complete and total lack of relationship to anything more evolved than cheese-whiz amuses me. I must now go and slave away over my super top-classified ultra hush-hush project, which happens to be a blender. CROW: What do you mean, Tom? TOM: Well, chum, I might give you a hint later that I'm working on a blender, but I really have to stop hinting about the blender I'm working on so I can go work on the aforementioned blender. Toodles! [TOM bounces happily away.] CROW: Hmm. Tom just wandered into that building marked "Secret Blender Testing Grounds." I wonder what he's doing in there? [CROW exits. Lights fade to black. Some slight shuffling is heard.] JOEL: [O.S.] Act Two; Tom Suspects Rascal-Like Behavior. [The lights come up to reveal TOM behind the counter. A blender rests in front of him. CROW enters from the side.] CROW: Hey Tom, what are you up to? TOM: Oh, hello, Ned! Well, chum, I'm not up to much besides working on this blender. CROW: Oh. Is it related to that top secret project you mentioned earlier? TOM: Yes. CROW: Really? Well, you can explain it to me later. I just wanted to tell you that I saw Blakeson the other day-- TOM: WHAT?! GODS! He must be after my blender! Where did you see him -- quickly, tell me, so I can act immediately after my pedicure tomorrow! CROW: Well, chum, I saw him laid up in the hospital, actually. He had broken both of his legs in some bizarre fishing mishap. Been there for weeks, and isn't likely to be released until next month. TOM: He's a slippery devil, I'll say. He must be behind some diabolical plot to swipe my beloved blender and threaten the security of all true patriotic Americans of non-German descent. CROW: Oh, are you working on something, Tom? [The lights dim out. More shuffling is heard.] JOEL: Act Three; Tom Gets A Clue. [The lights rise to show Tom and Crow in an apparently crashed plane on top of a cabin.] TOM: Whew! That was a fortunate stroke of luck, wasn't it? CROW: Yes. Who would have thought that when are plane got hit by that freak storm that it would force us to crash-land on this particular cabin, which just so happened to be the hideout of our enemies? TOM: Indeed, chum! Why, now we know without question that Blakeson was behind this, even though he wasn't actually here and there is no evidence whatsoever to support the claim. CROW: The scoundrel! TOM: Not to worry, Ned. I'll send Koku over to that hospital he's at and have my giant savagely beat the traitorous German-lover into a bloody pulp. CROW: That's swell! Good thing that Blakeson's legs are broken, so he can't run away. [They laugh merrily as the lights dim yet again.] JOEL: [O.S.] Act Four; You Should Worship Tom Swift and Buy All Of His Adventures, On Sale Now! [The lights come up again, and TOM and CROW stand quietly facing the camera. Moments pass in silence as they glance around now and then.] TOM: [in his normal voice] We really don't have anything to say that the Act title hasn't already said. CROW: [ditto] Not that this would have stopped Appleton, of course. [The lights dim out again, except for the commercial light, which begins to flash.] JOEL: [O.S.] Thank you, and commercial sign. [His hand comes in from the left and swats the light.] [Bumper] [JOEL and the bots enter the Theater.] >Chapter XIII > >Into a Trench JOEL: I thought our heroes were exempted. CROW: Isn't that a thought? All the good guys here have, for one reason or another, managed to avoid being enlisted. >Tom cast a hasty glance over the mechanism of the machine >before he started to cross the stream by the additional aid >of the grippers, or spanners, as he sometimes called this >latest device. CROW: Appleton had realized that "grippers" was an inappropriate name, but couldn't be bothered to change the older chapters. TOM: "Spanners" will probably confuse the English, though. >Along each side, in a row of sockets, were two long >girders of steel, latticed like the main supports of a >bridge. JOEL: [Appleton] Let me explain-- > They were of peculiar triangular construction, >designed to support heavy weights, and each end was broadly >flanged to prevent its sinking too deeply into the earth on >either side of a gully or a stream. TOM: Hmm. Fifty tons, distributed over four "broad" flanges. That's at least twelve and a half tons per flange, ignoring peak loading. Wonder how deep that's going to sink into the ground. >The grippers also had a sort of clawlike arrangement on >either end, working on the principle of an "orange-peel" >shovel, CROW: Shovels made of orange peels? Must have been to save steel for the war effort. > and these claws were designed to grip the earth to >prevent slipping. > >The spanners would be pulled out from their sockets JOEL: Sounds painful. > on the >side of the tank by means of steel cables, which were >operated from within. They would be run out across the gap >and fastened in place. CROW: Er, how? > The tank was designed to travel along >them to the other side of the gap, and, once there. to pick >tip the girders, slip them back into place on the sides, and >the engine of war would travel on. TOM: I think they'll just collapse the far side of the trench. >"You are mightily excited, Tom. CROW: Hey, after that thrilling description of his grippers, who wouldn't be? >"I admit it, Ned. You see, I have not tried the grippers >out except on CROW: [Tom Swift] Mary. TOM: Couldn't resist, could you? > a small model. They worked there, but whether >they will work in practice remains to be seen. Of course, at >this stage, I'm willing to stake my all on the results. but >there is always a half-question until the final try-out >under practical conditions." JOEL: Tom, can't your construction company just dig a shallow but wide ditch -- >"Well, we'll soon see," said one of the workmen. "Are you >ready, Mr. Swift?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Tom Swift is Always Ready! >"All ready," answered Tom. JOEL: Pretty close, Tom. >Tank A, as she was officially known, CROW: And as has been mentioned once or twice. > had come to a stop, >as has been said, on the very edge of Tinkle Creek. JOEL: I'm sorry, but I just can't take that name seriously. TOM: "Tom Swift, Inventor, killed in test at Tinkle Creek..." > The >banks were fairly solid here, and descended precipitously to >the water ten feet below. The shores were about twenty feet >apart. JOEL: So if these things fail, he'll drop fifty tons of metal ten feet into water. TOM: [Tom Swift] Fail? I know not the meaning of the word! I am -- Tom Swift! >"Suppose the spanners break when you're halfway over, >Tom?" asked his chum. TOM: [Tom Swift] I did not think of that. CROW: Gravity takes over. >"I don't like to suppose anything of the sort. But if they >do, we're going down!" JOEL: I just have this mental image of similar conversations on the _Titanic._ >"Can you get up again?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Yes, with the sheer power of my indomitable will! >"That remains to be seen," was the non-committal reply. >"Well, here goes, anyhow!" CROW: What the hell -- it's only an incredibly expensive prototype. >Going up into the observation tower, which was only >slightly raised above the roof of the highest part of the >tank, Tom gave the signal for the motors to start. TOM: The workers hopped on their stationary bicycles-- > There was >a trembling throughout the whole of the vast structure. Tom >threw back a lever and Ned, peering from a side observation >slot, beheld a strange sight. CROW: [Ned] Hey -- we're in a tank! >Like the main arm of some great steam shovel, two long, >latticed girders of steel shot out from the sides of the >tank. TOM: Inadvertently impaling Bambi and his mother who had wandered out to see what all the commotion was about. > They gave a half turn, as they were pulled forward by >the steel ropes, so that they lay with their broader >surfaces uppermost. JOEL: Ned took notes for that nice Major Knig. >Straight across the stream they were pulled, TOM: Well, pushed. > their >clawlike ends coming to a rest on the opposite bank. Then >they were tightened into place by a backward pull on the >operating cables, and Tom, with a sigh of relief, announced: > >"Well, so far so good!" TOM: [Tom Swift] We're not dead yet! >"Do we go over now?" inquired Ned. CROW: [Ned] Are we there yet? TOM: [Tom Swift] Shut up or I'll turn this tank around. >"Over the top--yes, I hope," answered Tom, with a laugh. JOEL: Of course, this whole story's been pretty over the top. >"How about you down there?" he called to the engine room >through a telephone which could only be used when the >machinery was not in action, there being too much noise to >permit the use of any but visual signals after that. CROW: Loud airplanes, loud tanks -- I wonder how damaged Tom's hearing is by now. >"All right," came back the answer. "We're ready when you >are." JOEL: [Crewman] Cecil B. >"Then here we go!" said Tom. "Hold fast, Ned! Of course >there's no real telling what will happen, though I believe >we'll come out of it alive." TOM: Then why is Ned coming along? >"Cheerful prospect," murmured Ned. CROW: I get it -- Ned can't abide the idea that he'll outlive Tom. >The grippers were now in place. It only remained for the >tank to propel herself over them, pick them up on the other >side of Tinkle Creek, and proceed on her course. JOEL: [Pa Kettle] Well, Ma, I hear that Tom Swift fellow's rippin' up the countryside in some contraption. Good thing we got Tinkle Creek between the farm and his factory. >Tom Swift hesitated a moment, one hand on the starting >lever and the other on the steering wheel. Then, with a >glance at Ned, half whimsical and half resolute, CROW: And all diabolical. > Tom started >Tank A on what might prove to be her last journey. JOEL: Can't you feel the tension? >Slowly the ponderous caterpillar belts moved around on the >sprocket wheels. They ground with a clash of steel on the >surface of the spanners. So long was the tank that the >forward end, or the "nose," was halfway across the stream >before the bottom part of the endless belts gripped the >latticed bridge. TOM: Interesting. It's ten feet from the bow of the tank to the point the treads hit the ground. >"If we fall, we'll span the creek, not fall into it," >murmured Ned, as he looked from the observation slot. TOM: And that means the tank has to be at least forty feet long, because it can cross a 20-foot trench. >"That's what I counted on," Tom said. "We'll get out, even >if we do fall." CROW: [Tom Swift] Assuming our skulls aren't fractured in the fall. TOM: O-Kay. If the grippers, or spanners, can only be used to get across trenches the tank can get across without them, what's the point? >But Tank A was not destined to fall. JOEL: Tank A was destined to rule the world. > In another moment her >entire weight rested on the novel and transportable bridge >Tom Swift had evolved. Then, as the gripping ends of the >girders sank farther into the soil, the tank went on her >way. TOM: Wonder what's keeping the far bank from collapsing under the weight. >Slowly, at half speed, she crawled over the steel beams, >making progress over the creek and as safely above the water >as though on a regularly constructed bridge. JOEL: [Appleton] This scene's a little too intense. I better reassure my readers that everything's going to be all right. >On and on she went. Now her entire weight was over the >middle of the temporary structures. If they were going to >give way at all, it would be at this point TOM: But since we've already had Tom point out they won't fall even if the grippers do collapse, the tension just doesn't build. > But they did not >give. CROW: Nuts. > The latticed and triangular steel, than which there is >no stronger form of construction, held up the immense >weight of Tank A, and on this novel bridge she propelled >herself across Tinkle Creek. JOEL: So it made it across? >"Well, the worst is over," remarked Ned, CROW: [Ned] The book's about half done. > as he saw the >nose of the tank project beyond the farthermost bank. JOEL: "Farther" would be sufficient since there are only two banks, but let's not expect too much from Appleton. >"Yes, even if they collapse now nothing much can happen," >Tom answered. TOM: [Tom Swift] Once again, I'll point out that there is no danger. > "It won't be any worse than wallowing down >into a trench and out again. But I think the spanners will >hold." TOM: [Tom Swift] Hmm... grippers, spanners ... I think I like "spanners." >And hold they did! They held, giving way not a fraction of >an inch, until the tank was safely across, and then, after a >little delay, due to a jamming of one of the recovery >cables, the spanners were picked up, slid into the receiving >sockets, and the great war engine was ready to proceed >again. CROW: Well, that was ... truly unexciting. >"Hurrah!" cried Ned. "She did it, Tom, old man!" and he >clapped his chum resoundingly on the back. JOEL: Swelling Tom's already monstrous ego. >"She certainly did!" was the answer. "But you needn't >knock me apart telling me that. Go easy!" CROW: I wonder if Tom ever bothered to give his chums something to strap into before he took his tank across country. >"Bless my apple pie!" cried Mr. Damon, who was as much >pleased as either of the boys, "this is what I call great!" JOEL: [Mr. Damon] Just reminding everyone I am still here. >"Yes, she did all that I could have hoped for," said Tom. >"Now for the next test." > >"Bless my collar button! is there another?" TOM: [Tom Swift] No, we're going to ship this baby into combat after driving it around for half a morning. >"Just down into a trench and out again." Tom said. "This >is comparatively simple. It's only what she'll have to do >every day in Flanders." TOM: [Tom Swift] That and slalom between the crosses. >The tank waddled on. A duck's sidewise walk is about the >only kind of motion that can be compared to it. JOEL: [Appleton] Except a tank is bigger, and it has no legs, and it's longer ... okay, it's a stupid example. > The going >was easier now, for it was across a big field, TOM: [Tom Swift] Farmer Fitzgibbon's grain is growing well this year -- maybe he'll be able to pay his son's tuition at that art school with the crop we're driving through! JOEL: [Mr. Damon] No, his son was blinded in a gas attack -- the government's teaching him to weave baskets by touch. > and Tom told >his friends that at the other end was a deep, steep and >rocky ravine in which he had decided to give the tank >another test. TOM: [Tom Swift] We're going to see if the tank is smart enough to stop when I try to drive into this ravine. >"We'll imagine that ravine is a trench," he said, "and >that we've got to get on the other side of it. Of course, we >won't be under fire, as the tanks will be at the front, but >aside from that the test will be just as severe. TOM: [Tom Swift] Also, this ravine isn't dug into thick mud held together with corpses, but -- >A little later Tank A brought her occupants to the edge of >the "trench." > >"Now, little girl," cried Tom exultingly, patting the >rough steel side of his tank, "show them what you can do!" JOEL: I'd really like to know how Tom can pat the side of the tank when his arm is inside. >"Bless my plum pudding!" cried Mr. Damon, "are you really >going down there, Tom Swift?" JOEL: [Mr. Damon] I didn't say "we" because I forgot I was also inside the tank. >"I am," answered the young inventor. "It won't be >dangerous. We'll crawl down and crawl out. Hold fast!" CROW: But if he's that confident, is it really a test? >He steered the machine straight for the edge of the >ravine, and as the nose slipped over and the broad steel >belts bit into the earth the tank tilted downward at a >sickening angle. JOEL: [Tank A] I'm not goin' down there! >She appeared to be making the descent safely, when there >was a sudden change. The earth seemed to slip out from under >the broad caterpillar belts, and then the tank moved more >rapidly. > >"Tom, we're turning over!" shouted Ned. "We're capsizing!" TOM: [Tom Swift] Just crawl in and crawl out -- what was I thinking? >Chapter XIV > >The Ruined Factory CROW: I guess they destroy the tank and Swift goes out of business. JOEL: I think that's wishful thinking. >Only too true were the words Ned Newton shouted to his >chum. Tank A was really capsizing. She had advanced to the >edge of the gully and started down it, moving slowly on the >caterpillar bands of steel. Then had come a sudden lurch, TOM: [Ted Cassidy] You Rang? >caused, as they learned afterward, by the slipping off of a >great quantity of shale from an underlying shelf of rock. CROW: It must be treasonous GERMAN shale! >This made unstable footing for the tank. One side sank >lower than the other, and before Tom could neutralize this >by speeding up one motor and slowing down the other the tank >slowly turned over on its side. TOM: This is a signal of submission to the Alpha female of the pack. >"But she isn't going to stop here!" cried Ned, as he found >himself thrown about like a pill in a box. "We're going all >the way over!" > >"Let her go over!" cried Tom, JOEL: Thoroughly disgusted with the tank now. > not that he could stop the >tank now. "It won't hurt her. She's built for lust CROW: [Ned] No, that's Mary. Heh. I know it's just a transcription error, but-- > this sort >of thing!" > >And over Tank A did go. JOEL: Over the bridge and through the woods to Grandmother's house. > Over and over she rolled, >sidewise, tumbling and sliding down the shale sides of the >great gully. JOEL: [Pa Kettle] Looks like that anti-tank ditch we dug last week worked, Ma. >"Hold fast! Grab the rings!" cried Tom to his two >companions in the tower with him. "That's what they're for!" TOM: Nice of Tom to tell them this after they've already rolled over a few times. >Ned and Mr. Damon understood. In fact, the latter had >already done as Tom suggested. JOEL: Mr. Damon gets a free ride. > The young inventor had read >that the British tanks frequently turned turtle, CROW: From the Wicked Witch of the Western Front. > and he had >this in mind when he made provision in his own for the >safety of passengers and crew. TOM: Giving them seats and harnesses was too expensive. >As soon as he felt the tank careening, Tom had pressed the >signal ordering the motors stopped, and now only the force >of gravity was operating. CROW: Tom's tank comes with its own gravity? > But that was sufficient to carry >the big machine to the bottom of the gulch, whither she slid >with a great cloud of sand, shale and dust. JOEL: So Appleton's saying that fifty tons of sliding steel didn't just stop and hang there in mid air. >"Bless my--bless my--" Mr. Damon was murmuring, but he was >so flopped about, tossed from one side to the other, and it >took so much of his attention and strength to hold on to the >safety ring, that he could not properly give vent; to one of >his favorite expressions. ALL: Good. >But there comes an end to all things, JOEL: That's the only thought keeping me alive right now. > even to the descent >of a tank, and Tom's big machine soon stopped rolling, >sliding, and turning improvised somersaults, CROW: Mary Lou Retton is sooooo jealous right now. > and rested in a >pile of soft shale at the bottom of the gully. And the >tank was resting on her back! TOM: Inviting other tanks with a sultry, come-hither expression. >"We've turned turtle!" cried Ned, as he noted that he was CROW: Now a slow-moving reptile with a hard shell on his back. >standing on what, before, had been the ceiling of the >observation tower. JOEL: Not a lot gets by old Ned. > But as everything was of steel, and as >there was no movable furniture, no great harm was done. TOM: Except to the crew. > In >fact, one could as well walk on the ceiling of the tank as >on the floor. CROW: Except the ones with broken legs. >"But how are you going to get her right side up?" asked >Mr. Damon. TOM: [Tom Swift] You two will grab cables and pull her over. Why do you think I brought you along? >"Oh, turning upside down is only one of the stunts of the >game. I can right her," was the answer. JOEL: [Mr. Damon] But I asked how... >"How?" asked Ned. > >"Well, she'll right herself if there's ground enough for >the steel belts to get a grip on. TOM: [Tom Swift] And since we didn't fall off the Earth, there should be. >"But can the motors work upside down?" > >"They surely can!" responded Tom. TOM: [Tom Swift] You idiot. > "I made 'em that way on >purpose. The gasolene feeds by air pressure, and that works >standing on its head, as well as any other way. It's going >to be a bit awkward for the men to operate the controls, but >we won't be this way long. Before I start to right her. >though, I want to make sure nothing is broken." TOM: [Tom Swift] Apart from bones. >Tom signaled to the engine room, and, as the power was off >and the speaking tube could be used, he called through it: > >"How are you down there?" CROW: [Speaking Tube] I'm sorry, but we're not available just now. If you'll leave your name and number... >"Right-o!" came back the answer from a little Englishman >Tom had hired because he knew something about the British >tanks. TOM: And he's not helping Britain's own engineers because...? > "'Twas a bit of nastiness for a while, but it won't >take us long to get up ag'in." JOEL: Wow -- he sounds almost as English as Kevin Costner. >"That's good!" commented Tom. "I'll come down and have a >look at you." TOM: [Tom Swift] You beautiful, magnificent creature. >It was no easy matter, with the tank capsized, to get to >the main engine room, but Tom Swift managed it. JOEL: He's so cool. TOM: He's TOM PERFECT! > To his >delight, aside from a small break in one of the minor >machines, which would not interfere with the operation or >motive force of the monster war engine, TOM: [Tom Swift] We lucked out -- it's just the air hockey table. > everything was in >good shape. There was no leak from the gasolene tanks, which >was one of the contingencies Tom feared, TOM: Well technically, it's a 'risk' he feared, but let's move on. >and, as he had >said, the motors would work upside down as well as right >side up, a fact he had proved more than once in his Hawk. CROW: Even though the Hawk used a completely different motor. >"Well, we'll make a start," he told his chief engineer. >"Stand by when I give the signal, and we'll try to crawl out >of this right side up." JOEL: I just realized something. If Tom and his friends were in a conning tower, it should have been mashed flat when fifty tons of metal rolled over onto it, or it should dig into the ground and keep the tank from moving. >"How are you going to do it?" asked Ned, as his chum >crawled back into the observation tower. TOM: [Tom Swift] I'll stick my head under the tank. Then you start complimenting me. As my head swells, it'll push the tank over. >"Well, I'm going to run her part way up the very steepest >part of the ravine I can find--the side of a house would do >as well if it could stand the strain. TOM: [Tom Swift] Isn't that your house over there, Ned? > I'm going to stand the >tank right up on her nose, so to speak, and tip her over so >she'll come right again." CROW: Tank ballet! >Slowly the tank started off, while Tom and his friends in >the observation tower anxiously awaited the result of the >novel progress. Ned and Mr. Damon clung to the safety rings. >Tom put his arm through one and hung on grimly, while he >used both hands on the steering apparatus and the controls. CROW: So... Tom doesn't have a harness? TOM: And if he's using both hands at the controls, how is he hanging on in the first place? >Of course the trailer wheels were useless in a case of >this kind, and the tank had to be guided by the two belts >run at varying speeds. JOEL: [Appleton] Let me describe how that works yet again... >"Here we go!" cried Tom, and the tank started. It was a >queer sensation to be moving upside down, TOM: Even though, I should point out, they are not upside down -- the tank is. > but it did not >last very long. CROW: Because they came to a dead stop. > Tom steered the tank straight at the >opposite wail of the ravine, where it rose steeply. One of >the broad belts ran up on that side. The other was revolved >in the opposite direction. Up and up, at a sickening angle, >went Tank A. JOEL: This reminds me of a college hazing ritual. >Slowly the tank careened, turning completely over on her >longer axis, until, as Tom shut off the power, he and his >friends once more found themselves standing where they >belonged--on the floor of the observation tower. CROW: Arms wrenched out of their sockets. >"Right side up with care!" quoted Ned, with a laugh. "Well, >that was some stunt--believe me!" TOM: [Tom Swift] My next stunt will be jumping the tank over a Liberty Bond salesman. CROW: Who's on fire, I hope. >"Bless my corn plaster, I should say so!" cried Mr. Damon. CROW: Even Mr. Damon agrees! >"Well, I'm glad it happened," commented Tom. "It showed >what she can do when she's put to it. TOM: [Tom Swift] I, uh, meant to do that. > Now we'll get out of >this ditch." TOM: [Tom Swift] Won't the farmers be glad to see we're okay? >Slowly the tank lumbered along, proper side up now, JOEL: As has been mentioned before. > the >men in the motor room reporting that everything was all >right, and that with the exception of a slight unimportant >break, CROW: To the air hockey table. > no damage had been done. > >Straight for the opposite steep side of the gully Tom >directed his strange craft, and at a point where the wall of >the gulch gave a good footing for the steel belts, Tank A >pulled herself out and up to level ground. JOEL: [Tank A] Oh God... another morning of waking up in a ditch.... >"Well, I'm glad that's over," remarked Ned, with a sigh of >relief, as the tank waddled along a straight stretch. "And >to think of having to do that same thing under heavy fire !" CROW: Think of being under heavy fire without a tank. TOM: Yeah, it's like ... war isn't fun. >"That's part of the game," remarked Tom. "And don't forget >that we can fire, too--or we'll be able to when I get the >guns in place. They'll help to balance the machine better, >too, and render her less likely to overturn." TOM: Well, only if they're in the bottom of the tank, where they won't be able to shoot at anyone. >Tom considered the test a satisfactory one and, a little >later, guided his tank back to the shop, where men were set >to work repairing the little damage done and making some >adjustments. TOM: [Tom Swift] We're replacing the air hockey table with foosball. >"What's next on the program?" asked Ned of his chum one >day about a week later. "Any more tests in view?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Well, since you were such a help last time... >"Yes," answered Tom. "I've got the machine guns in place >now. We are going to try them out TOM: [Tom Swift] On striking workers. > and also endeavor to >demolish a building TOM: [Tom Swift] It was confiscated from an enemy alien, and I bought it at a government auction for $1.50. > and some barbed wire. JOEL: Good. I hated that movie. > Like to come >along?" > >"I would!" cried Ned. CROW: [Ned] Where are we going? >A little later the tank was making her way over a field. JOEL: I bet Tom is really popular with the farmers by now. >Tom pointed toward a deserted factory, which had long been >partly in ruins, but some of the walls of which still stood. TOM: [Tom Swift] Those were our old competitors. >"I'm going to bombard that," he announced, and then try to >batter it down and roll over it like a Juggernaut. Are you >game?" TOM: [Tom Swift] It's fun! >"Do your worst!" laughed Ned. "Let me man one of the >machine guns!" JOEL: I get the willies thinking of Ned with a sharp pencil, let alone a machine gun. >"All right," agreed Tom. "Concentrate your fire. Make >believe you're going against the Germans!" CROW: [Ned] How can I concentrate my fire if I only have one gun? >Slowly, but with resistless energy, the tank approached >the ruined factory. TOM: Resistless is -- oh, sorry. >"Are you sure there's no one in it, Tom?" > >"Sure! Blaze away!" CROW: Well, it's a good thing he checked before using it as a target. >Chapter XV > >Across Country JOEL: Tom is chased by the angry farmers. >Ned Newton sighted his machine gun. Tom had showed him how >to work it, TOM: When? CROW: And if Tom Swift invented an electric rifle, why not an electric machine gun? > and indeed the young bank clerk had had some >practice with a weapon like this, erected on a stationary >tripod. JOEL: Oh yeah -- Cub Scouts. For his Heavy Automatic Weapons badge. > But this was the first time Ned had attempted to >fire from the tank while it was moving, and he found it an >altogether different matter. > >"Say, it sure is hard to aim where you want to!" TOM: [Tom Swift] Doesn't matter -- my special bullets will only hurt Germans! > he >shouted across to Tom, it being necessary, even in the >conning tower, where this one gun was mounted, to speak >loudly to make one's self heard above the hum, the roar and >rattle of the machinery in the interior of Tank A, and >below and to the rear of the two young men. CROW: This paragraph is in desperate need of a period injection. > >"Well, that's part of the game," Tom answered. JOEL: I'm getting tired of that line. TOM: It generally means, "It sucks, but so what?" > "I'm >sending her along over as smooth ground as I can pick out, >but it's rough at best. Still this is nothing to what you'll >get in Flanders." TOM: [Tom Swift] With all the skulls to drive over. >"If I get there!" exclaimed Ned grimly. "Well, here goes!" >and once more he tried to aim the machine gun at the middle >of the brick wall of the ruined factory. CROW: Again, I am glad that Tom made sure the building was abandoned before he started doing this. >A moment later there was a rattle and a roar as the quick- >firing mechanism started, and a veritable hail of bullets >swept out at the masonry. JOEL: The Masons fled, screaming. > Tom and Ned could see where they >struck, knocking off bits of stone, brick and cement JOEL: [Tom Swift] Ned, you couldn't hit the broad side of a... oh. >"Sweep it, Ned! Sweep it!" cried Tom. "Imagine a crowd of >Germans are charging out at you, and sweep 'em out of the >way!" CROW: [Tom Swift] Sow the grass with German blood!!! >Obeying this command, the young man moved the barrel of >the machine gun from side to side and slightly up and down. JOEL: A feeling of true power darkly surfaced--- >The effect was at once apparent. The wall showed spatter- >marks of the bullets over a wider area, and had a body of >Teutons been before the factory, or even inside it, many of >them would have been accounted for, since there were several >holes in the wall through which Ned's bullets sped, carrying >potential death with them. CROW: Well, actually that does sound like fun. I mean, Tom made sure there wasn't anyone inside the building, so -- >"That's better!" shouted Tom. "That'll do the business! >Now I'm going to open her up, Ned!" TOM: I'll leave it unsaid. >"Open her up?" cried the young bank clerk, as he ceased >firing. > >"Yes; crack the wall of that factory as I would a nut! CROW: [Ned] You use tanks to crack nuts? >Watch me take it on high--that is, if the old tank doesn't >go back on me!" JOEL: But since he's inside the tank, how could he back over himself? >"You mean you're going to ride right over that building, >Tom ?" TOM: Ned is a little slow on the pickup. >"I mean I'm going to try! If Tank A does as I expect her >to, she'll butt into that wall, crush it down by force and >weight, and then waddle over the ruins. Watch!" TOM: [Tom Swift] Good thing there's nobody inside -- >Tom sent some signals to the motor room. At once there was >noticed an increase in the vibrations of the ponderous >machine. TOM: [Tom Swift] I wish Mary were here -- she'd love this! CROW: [Ned] I know! TOM: [Tom Swift] What? CROW: [Ned] I said, Go Slow! >"They're giving her more speed," said Tom. "And I guess >we'll need it." > >Straight for the old factory went Tank A. In spite of its >ruined condition, some of the walls were still firm, and >seemed to offer a big obstacle to even so powerful an engine >of war as this monstrous tank. CROW: [Ned] Are you sure the factory doesn't have a cellar? >"Get ready now, Ned," Tom advised. "And when I crack her >open for you cut loose with the machine gun again. This gun >is supposed to fire straight ahead and a little to either >side. There are other guns at left and right, amidships, as >I might say, and there's also one in the stern, to take care >of any attack from that direction. CROW: [Ned] In upstate New York? TOM: [Tom Swift] No, once this is shipped to France. CROW: [Ned] Wait -- this is a tank? >"The men in charge of them will fire at the same time you >do, and it will be as near like a real attack as we can make >it--with the exception of not being fired back at. JOEL: And no targets. > And I >wouldn't mind if such were the case, for I don't believe >anything, outside of heavy artillery, will have any effect >on this tank." TOM: [Tom Swift] Once I put a lock on that door. >Tank A was now almost at her maximum speed as she >approached closer to the deserted factory. Ned and Tom, in >the conning tower, saw the largest of the remaining walls >looming before them. JOEL: Rising to an unprecedented height of one foot, three inches. > Straight at it rushed the ponderous >machine, and the next moment there came a shock which almost >threw Ned away from his gun and back against the steel wall >behind him. CROW: [Ned] Hey -- we hit something! >"Hold fast!" cried Tom. "Here we go! Fire. Ned! Fire!" TOM: [Tom Swift] Dammit, what do I pay you for?! >There was a crash as the blunt nose of the great war tank >hit the wall and crumpled it up. JOEL: The nose or the wall? >A great hole was made in the masonry, and what was not >crushed under the caterpillar belts of the tank fell in a >shower of bricks, stone and cement on top of the machine. TOM: Then the floor gave way and they tumbled into the basement. >Like a great hail storm the broken masonry pelted the >steel sides and top of the tank. But she felt them no more >than does an alligator the attacks of a colony of ants. CROW: Even ants with flamethrowers? >Right on through the dust the tank crushed her way. Added to >the noise of the falling walls was that of the machine guns, >which were barking away like a kennel of angry hounds eager >to be unleashed at the quarry. JOEL: And the screams of the children who had been playing in the factory. >Ned kept his gun going until the heat of it warned him to >stop and let the barrel cool, or he knew he would jam some >of the mechanism. The other guns were firing, too, and the >bullets sent up little spatter points of dust as they hit. CROW: The children. >"Great jumping hoptoads!" yelled Ned above the riot of >racket outside and inside. "Feel her go, Tom!" > >"Yes, she's just chewing it up, all right!" cried the >young inventor, his eyes shining with delight. TOM: [Tom Swift] The act of destruction is even better than that of creation! >The tank had actually burst her way through the solid wall >of the old factory, permission to complete the demolition of >which Tom had secured from the owners. JOEL: Thoughtful of him. > Then the great >machine kept right on. She fairly "walked" over the piles of >masonry, dipped down into what had been a basement, now >partly filled with debris, and kept on toward another wall. > >"I'm going through that, too!" cried Tom. CROW: You know how it is. Nobody can drive through just one wall. >And he did, knocking it down and sending his tank over the >piled-up ruins, while the machine guns barked, coughed and >spluttered, TOM: Maybe if you patted the machine guns on the back? > as Ned and the others inside the tank held back >the firing levers. JOEL: At this point, the nearby Army base is called to help against a surprise attack by what must be some German tank, ruthlessly tearing through a local landmark in mockery of all that is decent. >Right through the opposite wall, as through the one she >had already demolished, the tank careened on her way, to >emerge, rather battered and dust-covered, on the other side >of what was left of the factory. CROW: Feh... Bond did it better. > And there was not much of >it left. Tank A had well-nigh completed its demolition. TOM: [Tom Swift] What a great day for American Industry. >"If there'd been a nest of Germans in there," said Tom, as >he brought the machine to a stop in a field beyond the >factory, "they'd have gotten out in a hurry." JOEL: Leaving their eggs and children... >"Or taken the consequences," added Ned, as he wiped the >sweat from his powder-blackened and oil-smeared face. "I >certainly kept my gun going." CROW: [Ned] I'm so desperate for praise. >"Yes, and so did the others," reported one of the >mechanics, as he emerged from the "cubby hole," where the >great motors had now ceased their hum and roar. > >"How'd she stand it?" asked Tom. JOEL: Mary? She didn't come. >"All right inside," answered the man. "I was wondering how >she looks from the outside." TOM: Well, since nobody went outside yet -- >"Oh, it would take more than that to damage her," said >Tom, with pardonable pride. JOEL: He *was* the boss. > "That was pie for her! Solid >concrete, which she may have to chew up on the Western >front, may present another kind of problem, TOM: [Tom Swift] Being more like cake than pie. > but I guess >she'll be able to master that too. Well, let's have a look." > >He and Ned, with some of the crew and gunners, went >outside the tank. CROW: The lurking farmers jumped at the chance for revenge. > She was a sorry-looking sight, very >different from the trim appearance she had presented when >she first left the shop. JOEL: Like any farm girl who goes to the city for a weekend. > Bricks, bits of stone, and piles of >broken cement in chunks and dust lay thick on her broad >back. CROW: Not too mention the remains of children's clothing in the treads and those smelly, dark stains.... > But no real damage had been done, as a hasty >examination showed. > >"Well, are you satisfied, Tom?" asked his chum. > >"Yes, and more," was the answer. TOM: [Tom Swift] I'm the happiest boy in the world. > "Of course this wasn't >the hardest test to which she could have been submitted, but >it will do to show what punishment she can stand. Being shot >at from big guns is another matter. TOM: [Tom Swift] Ned, would you like to drive it through that test? > I'll have to wait until >she gets to Flanders to see what effect that will have. But >I know the kind of armor skin she has, and that doesn't >worry me. JOEL: And he knows that if the armor protection is inadequate, well, it's not like word will ever get back to tarnish his sterling reputation. > There's one thing more I want to do while I have >her out now." > >"What's that?" asked Ned. TOM: [Tom Swift] Avenge the wrongs done against me. >"Take her for a long trip cross country, TOM: [Tom Swift] Maybe to Disneyworld. > and then shove >her through some extra heavy barbed wire. I'm certain she'll >chew that up, but I want to see it actually done. TOM: [Tom Swift] It should look cool. > So now, if >you want to come along, Ned, we'll go cross country." > >"I'm with you!" JOEL: Don't you wish you knew someone as servile as Ned? >"Get inside then. We'll let the dust and masonry blow and >rattle off as we go along." CROW: [Ned] Hey, why don't we take it through a tank wash? >The tank started off across the fields, which stretched >for many miles on either side of the deserted factory, when >suddenly Ned, who was again at his post in the observation >tower, called: > >"Look, Tom!" > >"What at?" > >"That corner of the factory which is still standing. Look >at those men coming out and running away!" CROW: Oh, good one, Tom. >Ned pointed, and his chum, leaning over from the steering >wheel and controls, gave a start of surprise as he saw three >figures clambering down over the broken debris and making >their way out of what had once been a doorway. > >"Did they come out of the factory, Ned?" JOEL: Must be a people factory. >"They surely did! And unless I miss my guess they were in >it, or around it, when we went through like a fellow >carrying the football over the line for a touchdown." CROW: Wow. I bet Homer wishes he had similies like that to use in _The Iliad._ >"In there when the tank broke open things?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Hey, Ned ... why don't we tell people you were driving the tank? It'll impress the girls. >"I think so. I didn't see them before, but they certainly >ran out as we started away." > >"This has got to be looked into!" decided Tom. CROW: Tom doesn't like it when witness are left alive. > "Come on, >Ned! It may be more of that spy business !" JOEL: Or it could be that you just nearly killed a bunch of tramps. >Tom Swift stopped the tank and prepared to get out > [The screen goes dark, abruptly. JOEL & the Bots look at one another for a moment, as though uncertain that they should wait.] TOM: I ... guess that's the end of the chapter. JOEL: Oh. Okay. CROW: Oh, Tommy, I'd like to take you for a drive. TOM: Sure -- sounds like fun! [1....2....3....4....5....6.... A Gravel Pit] [The silence is broken by the roar of a powerful engine. Then, a massive, heavily armored tank rumbles into view. Apart from the main gun projecting from the turret, it is covered with guns, missile racks, and camouflage paint; down the side is painted "CROW-1."] [INT.: CROW-1 Cockpit, which, amazingly enough, looks a lot like the countertop in the SoL. CROW and TOM sit side by side, each wearing a padded helmet.] CROW: ...And this baby's packing state-of-the-art firepower, "Go everywhere" tracks, and the ability to crush anything it can't steer around. TOM: Cool! You have much trouble steering around things? CROW: Don't know, buddy -- I've never tried! [They laugh nastily for some time.] TOM: Your tank's much cooler than Tom Swift's. CROW: By Patton and Guderian, yes! You see, early tanks were designed to break enemy defenses by getting machineguns next to the enemy line. Then, during World War 2, tanks started to specialize in killing other tanks. Nowadays, they're part of an integrated weapons system. But none of that matters, really. Tanks are cool. That's what counts. TOM: Yeah, I'll say. Any chance of my firing any of these weapons? CROW: We're coming up on some abandoned buildings which we can shoot up. TOM: Have you made sure there's nobody in them? CROW: Not really. Do you care? TOM: I guess not. Ha, ha, ha! [CROW and TOM share a moment of laughter. They lurch as CROW brings them to a stop.] CROW: Okay, Tom. Let's pretend that those abandoned buildings are an enemy camp that we are about to unleash death upon. TOM: Neat! CROW: Let's start off with the Multiple Launch Rocket System. I've already fed in the co-ordinates. Just hit the button marked "MLRS." TOM: But I can't see what we're shooting at. CROW: That's right -- it's a surprise attack. TOM: Okay! [TOM pushes the button and a raucous cacophony is unleashed as rockets blaze away from CROW-1. TOM and CROW chortle at the noise, which is shortly followed by a series of rolling explosions.] CROW: Those explosions you hear are the submunitions going off. Now I'm just going to rise up above this hill and poke the turret over the crest. Watch the monitor. [The tank rumbles forward] TOM: It's like a storm on a planet where it rains hand grenades! This is so cool! CROW: Now use the main gun to take out anything left standing. TOM: Okay. [TOM fires joyfully and laughs maniacally as the shells are unleashed.] TOM: Wow! 120mm Silver Bullets really make neat little holes, don't they? CROW: Now we're going to advance. Look, Tom -- you missed a trailer filled with aviation fuel. Pretend it's a foxhole and use the mortar. TOM: Right! I'll just -- uh, wait. Aviation gas? CROW: Sure! TOM: Uhm, okay. Fire in the hole! [The explosion is unbelievable. The tank is vibrated. TOM and CROW laugh happily.] TOM: Kurt Vonnegut is right -- this is better than sex! Funny, I can't help but feel that I've been here before... CROW: Now watch as we drive through that burning underwear collection. TOM: Underwear collection? Crow, you dope, this is my airfield! CROW: Not anymore -- now it's your crater! TOM: Damn you, Crow! CROW: Uh oh -- I guess I better eject! [There is a flash. TOM'S seat is now elevated on a pole. The bottom of TOM'S hoverskirt is barely visible at the top of the shot. CROW: Oops -- forgot to open the hatch for you, buddy! My bad! TOM: [Groggy] Mother, I don't want to go to school today... [Spaghetti Ball] >Chapter XVI > >The Old Barn TOM: Where cows check in, but they don't check out. >"There's no use chasing after 'em, Tom," observed Ned, CROW: [Ned] So I'll just gun them down. > as >the two chums stood side by side outside the tank and gazed >after the three men running off across the fields as fast as >they could go. JOEL: [Ned] You think they're scared? > "They've got too much a start of us." > >"I guess you're right, Ned," agreed Tom. TOM: [Tom Swift] You have a downright uncanny ability to grasp the blatantly obvious today. > "And we can't >very well pursue them in the tank. CROW: It's well known that a small pack of unarmed humans can hamstring a tank and bring it down in minutes. > She goes a bit faster >than anything of her build, TOM: Ah, it's Tank Flo-Jo. > but a running man is more than a >match for her in a short distance. JOEL: Sure; it's not like a tank at ten miles per hour could ever catch up to humans running at four miles per hour. > If I had the Hawk here, >there'd be a different story to tell." TOM: It must be the next one in the series. >"Well, seeing that you haven't," replied Ned, CROW: Again displaying his acute awareness of his surroundings. > suppose we >let them go--which we'll have to, whether we want to or not- >-and see where they, were hiding and if they left any traces >behind." > >"That's a good idea," returned Tom. TOM: [Tom Swift] So mark this date on your calender. >The place whence the men had emerged was a portion of the >old factory farthest removed from the walls the tank had >crunched its way through. Consequently, that part was the >least damaged. CROW: Thanks for pointing that out, Appleton. >Tom and Ned came to what seemed to have been the office of >the building when the factory was in operation. JOEL: They found an "Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here" sign posted on the door. > A door, from >which most of the glass had been broken, hung on one hinge, >and, pushing this open, the two chums found themselves in a >room that bore evidences of having been the bookkeeper's >department. JOEL: I guess that makes sense if it was the office. > There were the remains of cabinet files, TOM: Their bones having been picked clean by the rats. > and a >broken letter press, CROW: They discovered the lost set of "The Print Shop!" > while in one corner stood a safe. > >"Maybe they were cracking that," said Ned. CROW: [Ned] People who abandon factories always leave valuables behind to help set up future plots. >"They were wasting their time if they were," observed Tom, >"for the combination is broken--any one can open it," JOEL: Maybe they *already* cracked it. > and he >demonstrated this by swinging back one of the heavy doors. TOM: Hey, wait -- how'd Tom know the combination was already broken before even testing the door? CROW: Say, maybe this is going to be a plot twist, and Tom Swift is really a high-ranking double-agent working for the Germans! JOEL: Crow, you're just grasping at straws by now. >A quantity of papers fell out, or what had been papers, TOM: The better term for them now was oragami. >for they were now torn and the edges charred, as if by some >recent fire. CROW: It was a "rip"-roaring fire. >"They were burning these!" cried Ned. "You can smell the >smoke yet. TOM: No, that's just from you trying to think. > They came here to destroy some papers, and we >surprised them!" CROW: Please. This is a fanfic plot contrivance even Gonterman would be ashamed to use. >"I believe you're right," agreed Tom. "The ashes are still >warm." And he tested them with his hand. TOM: [Tom Swift] God-- that stings! > "They wanted to >destroy something, JOEL: [Tom Swift] Like me with this factory. > and when they found we were here CROW: Tipped off by the imploding walls and screeching metal. > they >clapped the blazing stuff into the safe, thinking it would >burn there. TOM: And they didn't just leave the papers burning on the floor because...? >"But the closing of the doors cut off the supply of air >and the fire smouldered and went out. JOEL: Thank God backdraft hasn't been invented yet. > It burned enough so >that it didn't leave us very much in the way of evidence, CROW: Ah, the days before government-strength paper shredders.... >though," went on Tom ruefully, as he poked among the charred >scraps. > >"Maybe you can read some of 'em," suggested Ned. TOM: [Tom Swift] I am literate in Charred-ese, yes. >"Part of the writing is in German," Tom said, JOEL: Well, of course. > as he looked >over the mass. TOM: [Tom Swift] Lord, have mercy on these papers, for they know not that they were used by the Germans-- > "I don't believe it would be worth while to >try it. Still, I can save it. CROW: [Tom Swift] It might be worth something some day. > Here, I'll sweep the stuff >into a box, and if we get a chance we can try to patch it >together," CROW: Coming soon, "Tom Swift and his Molecular Reconstructer." > and finding a broken box in what had been the >factory office the young inventor managed to get into it the >charred remains of the papers. TOM: While Ned stood by, as usual, in awe. >A further search failed to reveal anything that would be >useful in the way of evidence to determine what object the >three men could have had in hiding in the ruins, CROW: Too many code books, radio transmitters, and U-Boat parts were around. > and Tom and >Ned returned to the tank. > >"What do you think about them, Tom?" asked Ned, TOM: Here's a wild guess -- they're involved with 'Simpson' and Blakeson. > as they >were about to start off once more for the cross-country >test. JOEL: Hoping to get as far as a mile before breaking down this time. >"Well, it seems like a silly thing to say-- TOM: [Tom Swift] But I think that this Great War isn't really all that great. > as if I >imagined my tank was all there was in this part of the >country to make trouble-- JOEL: Tom makes an half-hearted attempt at false modesty. > but I believe those men had some >connection with Simpson and with that spy Schwen!" CROW: You see, if you're not a friend of Tom's, you must be a German spy. >"I agree with you!" exclaimed Ned. TOM: The pre-Internet "Me too!" reply. > "And I think if we >could get head or tail of those burned papers we'd find that >there was some correspondence there between the man I saw up >the tree CROW: Mr. Damon was fooling around with the motor-cycle again, I see. > and the workman you had arrested." TOM: [Tom Swift] So you mean you think Simpson and Schwen are involved, which is precisely what I just announced, you addle-pated piece of-- >"Too bad we weren't a bit quicker," commented Tom. JOEL: You're a shame to the Swifts across the nation, Tom. > "They >must have been in the factory when we charged it CROW: [growing annoyed] No, I think they waited until you rammed through it, then went inside to burn the papers, and then ran back out. > --probably >came there to be in seclusion while they talked, plotted and >planned. TOM: [Tom Swift] And ate sauerkraut. > They must have been afraid to go out when the tank >was walking through the walls." CROW: It was much safer to stay near a charging tank, blazing away relentlessly with machine gun fire, while the building collapsed around their ears. >"I guess that's it," agreed Ned. "Did you recognize any of >the men, Tom?" JOEL: They're Germans, and therefore evil outright, so who cares? >"No, I didn't see 'em as soon as you did, and when they >were running they had their backs toward me. TOM: It'd be hard to escape running backwards, wouldn't it? > Was Simpson >one?" CROW: [Mr. Burns] Simpson, eh? >"I can't be sure. If one was, I guess he'll think we are >keeping pretty closely after him, and he may give this part >of the country a wide berth." JOEL: You mean Big Bertha. >"I hope he does," returned Tom. CROW: Tom suspects German spies hanging around his turf is bad for the war effort. > "Do you know, Ned, CROW: [Ned] No. JOEL: Easy question. > I have >an idea that these fellows--Schwen Simpson, and those back >of them, including Blakeson--are trying to get hold of the >secret of my tank for the Germans." CROW: I'm afriad that Tom has been picking up bad habits from Ned. TOM: Stupidity loves company. >"I shouldn't be surprised. JOEL: [Ned] But probably will be, anyway. > But you've got it finished now, >haven't you? CROW: [Ned] Secrets can only be stolen when in development, right? > They can't get your patents away from you." JOEL: That's why it's called "theft," Ned. >"No, it isn't that," said Tom. "There are certain secrets >about the mechanism of the tank--the way I've increased the >speed and power, the use of the spanners, TOM: [Tom Swift] The hamster power source.... > and things like >that--which would be useful for the Germans to know. I >wouldn't want them to find out these secrets, JOEL: That's a good plan. > and they could >do that if they were in the tank a while, CROW: Reverse-engineering through osmosis. > or had her in >their possession." JOEL: Or stole the blueprints, but that's probably giving these bad guys too much credit. >"They couldn't do that, Tom--get possession of her--could >they?" TOM: If they hire a good lawyer and milk the custody courts like a cow, maybe. >"There's no telling. I'm going to be doubly on the watch. CROW: So Ned gave him another wristwatch. >That fellow Blakeson is in the pay of the plotters, I >believe. TOM: [Tom Swift] Because he's my enemy, and only Germans and their spies are my enemies. > He has a big machine shop, CROW: [Ned] I like big things! TOM: [Tom Swift] You're scaring the crap out of me, Ned. > and he might try to >duplicate my tank if he knew how she was made inside." > >"I see! CROW: [Douglas Adams] Said Arthur, who didn't. > That's why he was inquiring about a good >machinist, I suppose, JOEL: It couldn't have been for legitimate business purposes, after all. > though he'll be mightily surprised >when he learns it was you he was talking to the time your >Hawk met with the little mishap." CROW: If he thinks a good machinist is someone who's inventions have such mishaps, how smart can he be? >"Yes, I guess maybe he will be a bit startled," agreed >Tom. TOM: [Tom Swift] I would say that's speculation for another day, but with Appleton at the helm, there's no time like the present to ramble on incessantly. > "But I haven't seen him around lately, and maybe he has >given up." > >"Don't trust to that!" warned Ned. JOEL: Legend has it one of Ned's ancestors personally pushed the witches off the gallows at Salem. >The tank was now progressing easily along over fields, TOM: [Tom Swift] Hey! Come back! >hesitating not at small or big ditches, flow going uphill >and now down, JOEL: I guess that rationing of gravity finally kicked in. > across a stretch of country thinly settled, >where even fences were a rarity. CROW: Tom had to go out of his way to find some to smash. > When they came to wooden >ones Tom had the workmen get out and take down the bars. TOM: Another battlefield condition on the Western Front. > Of >course the tank could have crushed them like toothpicks, but >Tom was mindful of the rights of farmers, JOEL: As he tore up their cornfields and gardens. > and a broken fence >might mean strayed cows, TOM: Unless they were run down first. > or the letting of cattle into a >field of grain or corn, CROW: Which the tank had previously tromped through. > to the damage of both cattle and >fodder. JOEL: Ned? >"There's a barbed-wire fence," observed Ned, >as he pointed to one off some distance across the >field. "Why don't you try demolishing that?" CROW: Joyriding with Tom, Ned cuts loose with consideration. >"Oh, it would be too easy! JOEL: [Tom Swift] To make it harder, you go out and try to hold it up! > Besides, I don't want the >bother of putting it up again. CROW: [Ned] I thought that was what the workmen were for. TOM: [Tom Swift] Say, you're right! > When I make the barbed-wire >test I want some set up on heavy posts, and with many >strands, as it is in Flanders. JOEL: [Tom Swift] I'm sick of Nestor's dog crapping in my yard! > Even that won't stop the >tank, but I'm anxious to see how she breaks up the wire and >supports--just what sort of a breach she makes. CROW: [Tom Swift] I'll have some men run behind to see if they get cut to ribbons when the wires tangle in the treads and whip about savagely. > But I have a >different plan in mind now. TOM: [Tom Swift] You know that new runabout Andy Foger just bought? >"I'm going to try to find a wooden building we can charge >as we did the masonry factory. CROW: Tom pushes the limits of his Gold Card. > I want to smash up a barn, JOEL: I think this whole cross-country test is just a flimsy facade for Tom's real passion of destroying property not his own. >and I'll have to pick out an old one for choice, for in >these war days we must conserve all we can, even old barns." JOEL: Never know when they'll be called for shipment to aid the war effort in France. >"What's the idea of using a barn, Tom?" TOM: [Tom Swift] To house livestock and farming supplies. Why? >"Well, I want to test the tank under all sorts of >conditions-- CROW: Daylight, night, rain, fog, methane release from cows.... JOEL: Hope they brought along Tom's new Gas Helmets. > the same conditions she'll meet with on the >Western front. TOM: [Tom Swift] Except for being fired on. > We've proved that a brick and stone factory >is no obstacle." CROW: [Tom Swift] Even when German spies are burning papers within! >"Then how could a flimsy wooden barn be?" > >"Well, that's just it. JOEL: [Tom Swift] I don't see how, either. > I don't think that it will, but it >may be that a barn when smashed will get tangled up in the >endless steel belts, and clog them so they'll jam. That's >the reason I want to try a wooden structure next." TOM: [Ned] Pick an outhouse; I gotta go, anyway. >"Do you know where to find one?" CROW: On a farm? >"Yes; about a mile from here is one I've had my eyes on >ever since I began constructing the tank. TOM: The result was missing a lot with the hammer, injuring himself, his father, and others frequently. > I don't know who >owns it, but it's such a ramshackle affair that he can't >object to having it knocked into kindling wood for him. JOEL: Don't check first to see if it's housing livestock or anything. I mean you did so well last time on that. > If >he does holler, I can pay him for the damage done. CROW: [Tom Swift] There's nothing I can't buy my way out of. > So now >for a barn, Ned, unless you're getting tired and want to go >back?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Well, you little pansy? Had enough, wimp? >"I should say not! Speaking of barns, I'm with you till >the cows come home! CROW: Ned rides the razor-blade cutting-edge of humor bareback. > Want any more machine gun work?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Sure; do the world a favor and try cleaning it while it's loaded. >"No, I guess not. This barn isn't particularly isolated, >and the shooting might scare horses and cattle. CROW: So aim to kill. > We can smash >things up without the guns." JOEL: Horse and cattle won't be spooked by a giant metal fortress ripping through their dwelling, after all. >The tank was going on smoothly when suddenly there was a >lurch to one side, and the great machine quickly swung about >in a circle. JOEL: Making the very first crop circle to baffle residents for years to come. >"Hello!" cried Ned. CROW: [Ned] I love you! Won't you tell me your name? > "What's up now? Some new stunt?" JOEL: Hopefully that one about the tank jumping over a Liberty Bond Salesman. >"Must be something wrong," answered the young inventor. TOM: Wow. That was a rock-stupid observation I'd have expected from Ned. CROW: I think Ned acts like a White-Noise Broadcaster, only he blankets intelligence rather than radar waves. >"One of the belts has stopped working. TOM: [Tom Swift] My pants keep falling down. > That's why we're >going in a circle." CROW: [singing] You spin me round, right round, like a record, baby, round-round-round-round! >He shut off the power and hastened down to the motor room. TOM: A stream of obscenities erupting moments later. >There he found his men gathered about one of the machines. CROW: The foosball table. TOM: [Tom Swift] Am I the only one working, here?! >"What's wrong?" asked Tom quickly. > >"Just a little accident," replied the head machinist. JOEL: [head machinist] Andy fell into the gears again. > "One >of the boys dropped his monkey wrench and it smashed some >spark plugs. TOM: [Tom Swift] SABOTAGE!!! CROW: [Ned] BURN THE BOCHE SYMPATHSIZER! > That caused a short circuit and the left hand >motor went out of business. JOEL: It invested too much operating capital in the precious metals markets. > We'll have her fixed in a >jiffy." CROW: [Jiffy] It'll be tickety-boo in a flash! >Tom looked relieved, and the machinist was as good as his >word. In a few minutes the tank was moving forward again. JOEL: Thanks to everyone pushing it from behind. > It >crossed out to the road, to the great astonishment of some >farmers, and the fright of their horses, and then Tom once >more swung her into the fields. TOM: [Tom Swift] Man I love this job... tearing up ecosystems, scaring the local hicks.... > >"There's the old barn I spoke of," he remarked to Ned. CROW: [Ned] Oh, where Mrs. O'Leary's cow is? >"It's almost as bad a ruin as the factory was. But we'll >have a go at it." TOM: [Tom Swift] I think we can outrun it. >"Going to smash it?" asked Ned. > >"I'm going right through it!" Tom cried CROW: A disturbing feral glint alighting his eyes as he felt impunity to the will of God and Nature in his magnificent beast of metal death. >Chapter XVII > >Veiled Threats > > >Like some prehistoric monster about to charge down upon >another of its kind, JOEL: Senator Packwood turns threateningly on Senator Kennedy. > Tank A, CROW: Insert into Barn B. > under the guidance of Tom >Swift, reeled and bumped her way over the uneven fields >toward the old barn. JOEL: [Scoutmaster] Now boys, never mind those noises outside and keep working on your Hay Baling merit badges. > Within the monster of steel and iron >were raucous noises: TOM: Someone had put on a wax cylinder of "Thomas Edison's Greatest Hits." > the clang and clatter of the powerful >gasolene motors; the rattle of the wheels and gears; CROW: The screams of the workmen caught in the workings. > all >making so much noise that, in the engine room proper, not a >word could be heard. JOEL: Their cries to shut the machine off fell upon truly deaf ears. > Every order had to be given by signs, CROW: Big, painted ones like Wile E. Coyote used, saying "Go!", "Stop!", and "ARGHHH-SHUTITOFFSHUTITOFFSHUTITOFF--" >and Tom sent his electric signals from the conning tower CROW: Where scam artists learned the tools of the trade. > in >the same way. When running at full speed, it was almost >impossible, JOEL: To put a stopwatch in your left pocket with your right hand. > even in the tower, CROW: Where Rapunzel had set up an online hair care product business. > which was some distance >removed from the engine room, to hear voices unless the >words were shouted. TOM: Hence, Ned was going insane from all the shouting in his head. > >"Why don't you go at it?" cried Ned to his friend, CROW: [Tom Swift] Not here, honey. > who >was peering through the observation slot in the tower. > >"I'm getting in good position," Tom answered. TOM: [Ned] Oh yes.... > "Or rather, >the worst position I can find. I want to give the tank a >good try-out, TOM: [Tom Swift] So I'm charging an immobile and dilapidated structure. > and I'm going at the barn on the assumption >that this is in enemy country and that I can't pick and >choose my advance. CROW: I always thought that's what a tank was for, though. >"So I want to come up through that gully, and go at the >barn from the long way. TOM: He's trying to give the barn a sporting chance to get away in time. > That will be the worst possible way >I could do it, JOEL: No, that would be being air-dropped from 35,000 feet. > and if old Tank A stands the gaff I'll know >she's a little bit nearer all right." TOM: [Tom Swift] And if she doesn't, we're all dead! >"I think she's all right as she is!" asserted Ned in a >yell, for just then Tom signaled for more speed, CROW: All the way yelling "DRIIIIIIIVE!" > and the >consequent increase in the rattling and banging noises made >it correspondingly difficult for talk to be heard. TOM: Ah, I get it -- this whole business of making the test difficult is just a ruse of Tom's to make more noise which will effectively shut Ned up. >The big machine now tipped into the little gully spoken of >by Tom. CROW: Aw, that's cute. > This meant a dip downward, and then a climb out >again and an attack on the barn going uphill and at an >angle. TOM: Tom later convinced the President that all future combat vehicles had to be given the strenuous "barn run" test before being cleared for field use. > But, as the young inventor had said, it would make a >severe test and that was what he wanted to give his >ponderous machine. CROW: I would think a severe test would have to do with some type of combat simulation rather than a rampage against the setting of "American Gothic." >Ned grasped one of the safety rings, JOEL: You know, the brass ones given out on old merry-go-rounds? > as, with a reel to CROW: Reel. >one side, almost as if it were going to capsize, the tank >rumbled on. Tom cast a half-amused smile at his chum, JOEL: [Tom Swift] Yeah, right -- Liberty Bond Boy there would really last more than five minutes on the Western Front. > and >then threw over the guiding lever. CROW: Jettisoning the unsuspecting Ned into the sky. >The tank rolled down into the gully. It was rough and >filled with stones and boulders, some of considerable size. CROW: [Ned] Have I mentioned I like big things? TOM: [Tom Swift] Stop saying that! >But Tank A made less than nothing even of the largest rocks. JOEL: Even the ones as big as a breadbox were defeated. >Some she crushed beneath her steel belts. Others she simply >"walked" over, smashing them down into the soil. CROW: Still others she dangled on a string for four months until she tired of them. >Now the big machine reached the bottom of the gulch and >started up the sides, JOEL: Both at once? CROW: I'm impressed. > which, though not as steep as the >trench in which she had capsized, still were not easy going. TOM: All those blasted rabbits and baby fawns couldn't get out of the way fast enough. >"Now for it!" cried Tom, as he signaled for full speed. > >Up climbed the tank. TOM: [sing-song] Up the water spout.... > Now she was half-way. CROW: And Tom realized with a start that he was hopelessly lost. > A moment later, >and she was at the top, and then a forward careening motion >told that she had passed over the summit and was ready for >the attack proper. JOEL: Boy, this poor barn doesn't stand a chance. >Ned gave a quick glance through the slot nearest him. He >had a glimpse of the barn, and then he saw something else. CROW: [Ned] Isn't that Mary Nestor and Andy Foger out there on that blanket? I can't tell because of the heap of clothes blocking their faces. JOEL: Tom abruptly changes course. >This was the sight of a man running away from the >dilapidated structure--a man who glanced toward the tank >with a face that showed great fright. TOM: [darkly] Old MacDonald *had* a farm.... >"Stop! Stop!" yelled Ned. CROW: [Ned] I spotted a moving target! > "There may be folks in there, >Tom! I just saw a man run out!" > >"All right!" Tom cried, TOM: [Tom Swift] I can test this baby's ability to mow down hapless civilians! > though Ned could hardly hear him. >"Tell me when we get on the other side! CROW: Said the chicken to the paramecium. > We're going through >now!" > >"But," shouted Ned, "don't you understand? JOEL: Actually, he just stopped listening to you. > I saw a man >come out of there! CROW: [Ned] The barn just gave birth! > Maybe there's more inside! JOEL: [Ned] The man might have a nest and is trying to lure us away from his eggs! > Wait, Tom, >and--" > >But it was too late. CROW: Tom had snapped, and his bloodlust would not be sated. > The next instant there was a >smashing, grinding, splintering crash, a noise as of a >thunder-clap, TOM: Well, I suppose it's not surprising that Appleton would never have heard what a tank breaking down a wooden wall really sounds like. > and Tank A fairly ate her way through the old >barn as a rat might eat his way into a soft cheese, CROW: So the wall was taken in the front of the tank and showered through the insides of it? > only >infinitely more quickly. > >On and on and through and through ALL: Go team go and shoo fly shoo! > went the tank, knocking >beams, boards, rafters and timbers hither and thither. CROW: [Professor Robert Greenburg] I hasted thither to the theven-eleven to buy a thlurpie. >Minding not at all the weight of great beams on her back, >caring nothing for those that got in the way of her steel >belts, CROW: The cast of "Little House on the Prairie" comes to a grisly end. > heeding not the wall of wood that reared itself >before her in a barrier of splinters and slivers, TOM: Callously ignoring the Historical Registration Designation plaque. > Tank A >went on and on until finally, JOEL: It hit the first of many cows. CROW: Moo! [pop] Moo! [pop] Moo! [pop] Moo! [pop] > with another grinding crash, >as she smashed her way through the farthermost wall, the >great engine of war emerged on the other side CROW: [Ned] We reached the other side, Tom! TOM: Said the paramecium to the chicken. > and came >panting into the field, dragging with her a part of the >structure clinging to her steel sides. TOM: Part of the structure, hell-- that's little Billy who was trying to milk the cows! >"Well," cried Tom, with a laugh, TOM: [Tom Swift] Mwa-ha-ha-ha-Ha-HA-HA-HA!! > as he signaled for the >power to be shut off, JOEL: With an frightening grin and throat-slitting gesture. > thereby making it possible for >ordinary conversation to be heard, "I guess we didn't do a >thing to that barn!" CROW: Did I mis-parse that, or did Tom just say that they didn't do anything to the barn? JOEL: No, he actually said that. TOM: Does that mean the test failed? >"Not much left of it, for a fact, Tom," agreed Ned, as he >looked through the after observation slots at the ruin in >the rear. TOM: Ned has problems controlling his bowels when frightened. > "But didn't you hear what I was saying?" > >"I heard you yelling something to me, JOEL: [Tom Swift] So I ignored you. > but I was too >anxious to go at it as fast as I could. CROW: [Ned] Mary complains about that, you know. > I didn't want to >stop then. What was the trouble?" > >"That's what I'm afraid of, Tom--there may be trouble. TOM: [Tom Swift] What is the trouble, then? >Just before you tackled the barn for a knockdown, instead of >a touchdown, as we might say, JOEL: Again, Ned's mastery of similes is unjustly overlooked by the Pulitzer board. > I saw a man running out of it. >I thought if there was one there, perhaps there might be >more. JOEL: Humans are like newsgroup lurkers -- for every one you see, there's a dozen hiding behind the screen. TOM: Sounds like cockroaches. CROW: Oh, German spies? > That's why I yelled to you." > >"A man running from the old barn!" cried Tom. CROW: Sounds like a Bob Dylan song. > "Whew!" he >whistled. JOEL: Tom's talents are beyond earthly measure. TOM: So this is twice now that Tom has nearly collapsed a building on someone. He's really not good at learning from his own mistakes. > "I wish I had seen him. CROW: Tom cherishes looks of terror like little gemstones. > But, Ned, if one ran out >of harm's way, any others who might possibly be in there >would do the same thing, wouldn't they?" JOEL: Since he's asking this to Ned, I'm guessing Tom meant this question to be rhetorical. >"I hope so," returned Ned doubtfully. CROW: [Ned] Unless he was another German burning papers. > >"Great Scott!" cried Tom, as the possibility was borne >home to him. TOM: [Tom Swift] This tank might actually *hurt* someone! > "If anything has happened--" TOM: [Tom Swift] Appleton can write another white-knuckling action-packed book about it! >He sprang for the door of the tower and threw over the >catch, CROW: Opened the shutters and threw up the sash! > springing out, followed by Ned. From the engine room >of the armored tank the men came, smiles of gratification on >their faces. CROW: What were they up to? >"We certainly busted her wide open, Mr. Swift!" called the >chief mechanician. CROW: The tank? TOM: The barn? JOEL: Mary? >"Yes," assented the young inventor; but there was not as >much gratification in his voice as there should have been. JOEL: So the machinists beat him senseless. >"There isn't much of a barn left, but Ned thinks he saw some >one run out, and if there was one man there may have been >more. TOM: [Tom Swift] I hear humans will often group together for protection. > We'd better have a look around, I guess." > >The engineering force exchanged glances. CROW: This wasn't part of their contract. > Then Hank >Baldwin, who was in charge of the motors, said: > >"Well, if there was anybody in that barn when we chewed >her up I wouldn't give much for his hide, German or not." TOM: Hank has had years of sensitivity training. >"Let us hope no one was in there," murmured Tom. > >They turned to go back to the demolished structure, fear >and worry in their hearts. JOEL: They hated lawsuits brought about by the deceased's families. Juries always sided with the bereft. > No more complete ruin could be >imagined. TOM: I think aerial bombardment would do it. > If a cyclone had swept over the barn it could not >have more certainly leveled it. JOEL: Merely transported it to Oz. > And, not only was it >leveled, crushed down in the center by the great weight of >the tank, JOEL: The tank rode over top of it? > but the boards and beams were broken into small >pieces. Parts of them clung in long, grotesque splinters to >the endless steel belts. CROW: [Appleton] Like toothpicks in the treads' teeth... damn, I'm good. >"I don't see how we're going to find anybody if he's in >there," remarked Hank. JOEL: [Hank] So why bother-- who's up for a beer? >"We'll have to," insisted Tom. "We can look about and >call. TOM: [Tom Swift] Maybe even move a beam or two. > If any one is there he may have been off to one side >or to one end, and be protected under the debris. CROW: Which came crashing down on his head. Right. > I wish I >had heard you call, Ned." JOEL: Tom subtly tries to shift the blame to his scapegoat. >"I wish you had, Tom. I yelled for all I was worth." JOEL: Oh, well, that explains why it was easy to miss. >"I know you did. CROW: How would you know if you never heard him? > I was too eager to go on, and, at the >same time, I really couldn't stop well on that hill. TOM: Excuses, excuses.... > I had >to keep on going. Well, now to learn the worst!" CROW: You don't have to sound so chipper about it. >They walked back toward the demolished barn. But they had >not reached it when from around the corner swung a big >automobile. JOEL: It's the Publisher's Clearing Barn prize patrol! > In it were several men, but chief, in vision at >least, among them, was a burly farmer who had a long, old- >fashioned gun in his hands. TOM: What was an old-fashioned gun in 1918? CROW: Probably any type that Tom Swift didn't invent. > On his bearded face was a grim >look as he leaped out before the machine had fairly stopped, >and called: CROW: [farmer] Gul-durn smoochers on my property! [BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!] >"Hold on, there! I guess you've done damage enough! Now >you can pay for it or take the consequences!" And he >motioned to Tom, Ned, and the others to halt. TOM: [Tom Swift] Note to self; in future, don't get out of the tank. >Chapter XVIII > >Ready for France CROW: You are if you adore Debussy and Jerry Lewis. >Such was the reaction following the crashing through of >the barn, JOEL: That they were ready for France? > coupled with the sudden appearance of the men in >the automobile and the threat of the farmer, that, for the >moment, Tom, Ned, or their companions from the tank could >say nothing. CROW: "I'm sorry" would be a good start, guys. > They just stood staring at the farmer with the >gun, while he grimly regarded them. It was Tom who spoke >first. TOM: [Tom Swift] It was Ned's fault! >"What's the idea?" asked the young inventor. TOM: [Tom Swift] And can I patent it? > "Why don't >you want us to look through the ruins?" CROW: [Ned] Are you hiding German spies? >"You'll learn soon enough!" was the grim answer. > >But Tom was not to be put off with undecided talk. JOEL: He's had training from talking with Ned and Mr. Damon. >"If there's been an accident," he said, "we're sorry for >it. CROW: [farmer] You callin' me incontinent?! > But delay may be dangerous. If some one is hurt--" > >"You'll be hurt, if I have my way about it!" snapped the >farmer, "and hurt in a place where it always tells. JOEL: Hey, Appleton is actually portraying the way a real pissed-off farmer would act! > I mean >your pocketbook! JOEL: ...or maybe not. > That's the kind of a man I am--practical." TOM: As he threatens them with a loaded shotgun. >"He means if we've killed or injured any one we'll have to >pay damages," whispered Ned to Tom. CROW: [Ned] I'm a banker; I know how these bloodthirsty farmers operate. > "But don't agree to >anything until you see your lawyer. JOEL: Coming soon, "Tom Swift and the Travesty of Justice." TOM: Reserve your copy today. > That's a hot one, >though, trying to claim damages before he knows who's hurt!" CROW: He knows he'll get a bigger settlement if they're dead. >"I've got to find out more about this," Tom answered. He >started to walk on. TOM: Music by the Happy Mondays. CROW: That's "Step On." TOM: Oh. >"No you don't!" cried the farmer, with a snarl. "As I >said, you folks has done damage enough with your threshing >machine, CROW: Thrashing machine, really. > or whatever you call it. Now you've got to pay!" JOEL: [farmer] One ear from each of you! >"We are willing to," said Tom, as courteously as he could. TOM: [Tom Swift] Since you've yet to throw your self in worship at my feet, I can only assume that you don't realize who I am. Tom Swift? God's gift to non-Germans the world over? >"But first we want to know who has been hurt, or possibly >killed. TOM: [Tom Swift] Then we can tabulate our scores properly. > Don't you think it best to get them to a doctor. and >then talk about money damages later?" > >"Doctor? Hurt?" cried the farmer, the other men in the >auto saying nothing. ALL: [other men] Nothing. > "Who said anything about that?" > >"I thought," began Tom, "that you--" JOEL: [singing] And me, and me and you.... >"I'm talkin' about damages to my barn!" cried the farmer. >"You had no right to go smashing it up this way, and you've >got to pay for it, or my name ain't Amos Kanker!" TOM: Here's hoping it isn't. >"Oh!" and there was great relief in Tom's voice. JOEL: After all, how cunning could someone named Amos Kanker possibly be? > "Then we >haven't killed any one?" TOM: He's hoping to make up for his failure to do so at the factory. > >"I don't know what you've done," answered the farmer, CROW: [Kanker] So what the hell am I doing out here, anyway? > and >his voice was not a pleasant one. JOEL: It sounded like a cross between Roseanne Barr and a braying mule. > "I'm sure I can't keep >track of all your ructions. TOM: [Kanker] My German friends take care of that. > All I know is that you've ruined >my barn, and you've got to pay for it, and pay good, too!" > >"For that old ramshackle?" cried Ned. CROW: [Ned] It looks like someone drove a tank through it. >"Hush!" begged Tom, in a low voice. TOM: [Tom Swift] For once in your life, Ned, just shut up. > "I'm willing to pay, >Ned, for the sake of having proved what my tank could do. TOM: Destroy a barn that would have fallen over with a strong push? JOEL: Verdun will be pie after that. >I'm only too glad to learn no one was hurt. CROW: [Tom Swift] This tank was solely designed to knock down abandoned factories and run-down barns. > Was there?" he >asked, turning to the farmer. > >"Was there what?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Was there or wasn't there a woman? >"Was there anybody in your barn?" > >"Not as I knows on," was the grouchy answer. CROW: So... in fact, there very well *could* have been someone in the barn that niether party knows about? > "A man who >saw your machine coming thought she was headed for my >building, and he run and told me. Then some friends of mine >brought me here in their machine. TOM: Give in, Kanker; call it a horseless carriage! > I tell you I've got all >the evidence I need ag'in you, an' I'm going to have >damages! CROW: [Kanker] Whip me with a rubber hose! > That barn was worth three thousand dollars if it >was worth a cent, and--" TOM: It wasn't, so no harm done. >"This matter can easily be settled," said Tom, trying to >keep his temper. "My name is Swift, CROW: [Tom Swift] Tom Swift. I like my friends shaken, not stirred. > and--" > >"Don't get swift with me, that's all I ask!" and the >farmer laughed grimly at his clumsy joke. CROW: Seeing as how nobody else did. JOEL: Kanker had gotten a crummy gagwriter and he knew it. >"I'll do whatever is right," Tom said, with dignity. TOM: [Tom Swift] Whatever is good for the Swift Company is good for America. > "I >live over near Shopton, and if you want to send your lawyer >to see mine, CROW: I think the scary bit is that even today this line is used all the time. > why--" > >"I don't believe in lawyers!" broke in the farmer. JOEL: [Kanker] I know four-fingered talking mice run the Judicial Branch! > "All >they think of is to get what they can for theirselves. TOM: Some things never change, do they? > And I >can do that myself. CROW: And least he's honest in his greed. > I'll get it out of you before you leave, >or, anyhow, before you take your contraption away," and he >glanced at the tank. > >The same suspicion came at once to Tom and Ned, JOEL: Maybe they should have taken five minutes to secure permission to demolish the barn before taking off. > and the >latter gave voice to it when he murmured in a low voice to >his chum: > CROW: [Ned] I think he means to sue your pants off. >"This is a frame-up--a scheme, Tom. He doesn't care a rap >for the barn. JOEL: [Ned] Yo, he don't be givin' a mo'fo 'bout it. > It's some of that Blakeson's doing, to make >trouble for you." CROW: [Ned] Why else would someone be upset after you drive a tank through their barn? >"I believe you!" agreed Tom. TOM: [Tom Swift] Since everyone knows the world revolves around me and my tank. > "Now I know what to do." JOEL: Denounce this farmer as a traitor to Old Glory. >He looked toward the collapsed barn, as if making a mental >computation of its value, CROW: Yeah, show off those stalling techniques of yours, baby! Whoo! > and then turned toward the farmer. > >"I'm very sorry," said Tom, TOM: [Tom Swift] That you weren't inside. > "if I have caused any trouble. >I wanted to test my machine out on a wooden structure, and I >picked your barn. TOM: [Tom Swift] Are you following me so far? > I suppose I should have come to you first, >but I did not want to waste time. CROW: [Tom Swift] You backwards peasants disgust me, anyway. > I saw the barn was of >practically no value > >"No value!" broke in the farmer. JOEL: [Ned] Hey, it's my job to interrupt Tom! > "Well, I'll show you, >young man, that you can't play fast and loose with other >people's property and not settle!" > >"I'm perfectly willing to, Mr. Kanker. TOM: [Tom Swift] Or shall I call you Kanker-sore? > I could see that >the barn was almost ready to fall, and I had already >determined, before sending my tank through it, to pay the >owner any reasonable sum. JOEL: [Tom Swift] So here's twenty-two cents. > I am willing to do that now." TOM: [Tom Swift] Since I'm looking down the business end of a 12-gauge. >"Well, of course if you're so ready to do that," replied >the farmer, and Ned thought he caught a glance pass between >him and one of the men in the auto, "if you're ready to do >that, just hand over three thousand dollars, and we'll call >it a day's work. CROW: The wood used to build it was imported all the way from Upper Michigan, after all. > It's really worth more, but I'll say three >thousand for a quick settlement." > >"Why, this barn," cried Ned, "isn't worth half that! JOEL: [Ned] It's not even intact anymore! > I >know something about real estate values, for our bank makes >loans on farms around here--" CROW: Whoops, Ned just gave Mr. Kanker cause for justifiable homicide. >"Your bank ain't made me no loans, young man!" snapped Mr. >Kanker. "I don't need none. My place is free and clear! CROW: Only in a fictional work. > And >three thousand dollars is the price of my barn you've >knocked to smithereens. If you don't want to pay, I'll find >a way to make you. TOM: Boy, he's reading them the riot act, eh? > And I'll hold you, or your tank, as you >call it, security for my damages! You can take your choice >about that." TOM: [Tom Swift] Oh, that's easy -- take Ned. CROW: Please. >"You can't hold us!" cried Tom. "Such things aren't done >here!" JOEL: Tom's not used to not having things his way, and the stress is beginning to show. >"Well, then, I'll hold your tank!" cried the farmer. "I >guess it'll sell for pretty nigh onto what you owe me, CROW: [Kanker] My German relatives will be along any day now.... >though what it's good for I can't see. JOEL: [Kanker] It ain't like there's a war on. > So you pay me three >thousand dollars or leave your machine here as security." > >"That's the game!" whispered Ned. "There's some plot here. JOEL: I beg to differ. >They want to get possession of your tank, Tom, and they've >seized on this chance to do it." CROW: [Ned] It's downright nutty that no matter where you go, German spies always seem right near by, and... say, wait a sec.... >"I believe you," agreed the young inventor. "Well, they'll >find that two can play at that game. JOEL: Now Tom will countersue Kanker for damaging his private property and mental anguish. > Mr. Kanker," he went >on, "it is out of the question to claim your barn is worth >three thousand dollars." > >"Oh, is it?" sneered the farmer. CROW: And blew off Tom's left leg to remind the smart-alec that he was no longer in his precious tank. > "Well, I didn't ask you >to come here and make kindling wood of it! JOEL: [Kanker] I wanted a signal tower! > That was your >doings, and you've had your fun out of it. Now you can pay >the piper, TOM: [Ned] Know any jigs? > and I'm here to make you pay!" And he brought the >gun around in a menacing manner. > >"He's right, in a way," said Ned to his chum. JOEL: Even Ned has a "Fight or Flight" reflex. > "We should >have secured his permission first. He's got us in a corner, >and almost any jury of farmers around here, after they heard >the story of the smashed barn, would give him heavy damages. CROW: That farmer's conspiracy strikes again. >It isn't so much that the barn is worth that as it is his >property rights that we've violated. A farmer's barn is his >castle, so to speak." TOM: I really hope Ned gets shot before this story is over. Just out of principle. >"I guess you're right," agreed Tom, with a rather rueful >face. "But I'm not going to hand him over three thousand >dollars. In fact, I haven't that much with me." JOEL: Then what good are you, Tom? >"Oh, well, I don't suppose he'd want it all in cash." CROW: How in the hell did Ned ever get work at a bank in the first place? >But, it appeared, that was just what the farmer wanted. JOEL: He needed new stuffing for his mattress. > He >went over all his arguments again, CROW: From out of nowhere, a formal and polite debate breaks out! > and it could not be >denied that he had the law on his side. JOEL: Not to mention that shotgun. > As he rightly said, >Tom could not expect to go about the country, "smashing up >barns and such like," without being willing to pay. TOM: [Tom Swift] Oh? And who's going to stop me when I'm in a tank? You and your little peashooter? That's so stu-- CROW: [BLAM!] >"Well, what you going to do?" asked the farmer at last. "I >can't stay here all day. CROW: [Kanker] I've got some soup on the stove at home! > I've got work to do. I can't go >around smashing barns. TOM: Kanker's letting his envy show a tad. > I want three thousand dollars, or >I'll hold your contraption for security." JOEL: Which prompted Ned to whisper that this was a plot to Tom, who would then agree, and then say that the barn was not worth three thousand dollars to Kanker, who would say it was, and demand the money or the tank as security, which clues Ned that this is some sort of plot, which he whispers to Tom... >This last he announced with more conviction after he had >had a talk with one of the men in the automobile. CROW: His dialogue coach. > And it was >this consultation that confirmed Tom and Ned in their belief >that the whole thing was a plot, JOEL: To bad the audience can't say the same. > growing out of Tom's rather >reckless destruction of the barn; a plot on the part of >Blakeson and his gang. TOM: I'd feel more intimidated by Bugs Meany's gang. > That they had so speedily taken >advantage of this situation carelessly given them was only >another evidence of how closely they were on Tom's trail. CROW: Well, it's kind of hard to miss the only tank roaming the fields of North America. >"That man who ran out of the barn must have been the same >one who was in the factory," whispered Ned to his chum. JOEL: Excuse me? How'd he get to the barn before the tank? CROW: He just walked through one of the holes in the "plot." > "He >probably saw us coming this way and ran on ahead to have the >farmer all primed in readiness. TOM: [Hun Spy] Here's your motivation -- your barn has just been destroyed! Where you first met your wife, got her pregnant, and subsequently married her! > Maybe he knew you had >planned to ram the barn." CROW: German spies can read minds, you know. TOM: So Ned's immune, huh? >"Maybe he did. I've had it in mind for some time, and >spoken to some of my men about it." > >"More traitors in camp, then, I'm afraid, Tom. JOEL: Better kill them all, yep. > We'll have >to do some more detective work. CROW: Excuse me? The only who's done any actual deductive work has been Eradicate. TOM: Who was lavishly rewarded by being put back on refuse detail. > But let's get this thing >settled. He only wants to hold your tank, and that will give >the man, into whose hands he's playing, a chance to inspect >her." TOM: My guess is that Appleton actually wrote several different versions of the scene, but couldn't decide on which one was best, so included them all. CROW: I bet he was alluding to a time loop paradox which Gene Roddenberry would later be inspired by. JOEL: I say he's exploiting that "paid-by-the-word" deal he had to its fullest. >"I believe you. But if I have to leave her here I'll leave >some men on guard inside. CROW: [Hank] Hello? Boss? Don't we get a say in this? > It won't be any worse than being >stalled in No Man's Land. In fact, it won't be so bad. JOEL: There's that new foosball table, remember. > But >I'll do that rather than be gouged." TOM: [Tom Swift] Better my workmen than my bankroll. >"No, Tom, you won't. If you did leave some one on guard, >there'd be too much chance of their getting the best of him. CROW: Because they can't lock the door or anything. >You must take your tank away with you." JOEL: Where it can be free and play in the wilds. >"But how can I? TOM: [singing] Sing like a girl.... > I can't put up three thousand dollars in >cash, and he says he won't take a check for fear I'll stop >payment. I see his game, but I don't see how to block it." > >"But I do!" cried Ned. > >"What!" exclaimed Tom. TOM: [Tom Swift] This had better be more successful than your damn brick canoe idea. > "You don't mean to say, even if you >do work in a bank, that you've got three thousand in cash >concealed about your person, do you?" CROW: Okay, to be fair to bankers, I think it's a bit much to assume at the turn of the century they all walked around carrying enough cash to buy several automobiles. >"Pretty nearly, Tom, or what is just as good. I have that >amount in Liberty Bonds. CROW: And as we all know, only a filthy Boche-lover would pass on the opportunity to accept Liberty Bonds! TOM: Well, sovereign government bonds are triple-A rated -- > I was going to deliver them to a >customer who has ordered them but not paid for them. JOEL: Must be of German blood. > They >are charged up against me at the bank, but I'm good for >that, I guess. CROW: Ned, in one swift stroke, kills his entire career. > Now I'll loan you these bonds, TOM: Oh, the grippers. > and you can >give them to this cranky old farmer as security for damages. >Mind, don't make them as a payment. They're simply security- >-the same as when an autoist leaves his car as bail. JOEL: Ned takes full advantage of his only chance to show-off. > Only we >don't want to leave our car, we'd rather have it with us," >and he looked over at the tank, bristling with splinters >from the demolished barn. CROW: What? No imaginative toothpick metaphor? >"Well, I guess that's the only way out," said Tom. "Lucky >you had those bonds with you. TOM: [Tom Swift] I suppose people besides muggers can be reassured that idiots like you really do walk around with that much liquid capital on them. > I'll take them, and give you a >receipt for them. In fact, I'll buy them from you and let >the farmer hold them as security." CROW: God, if only we all could be as patriotic as Tom Swift.... [sniffle] >And this, eventually, was done. CROW: It took six pages of tough negotiations-- at a penny a word. > After much hemming and >hawing and consultation with the men in the automobile, Mr. >Kanker said he would accept the bonds. CROW: And the German spies directing all this let it happen because...? > It was made clear >that they were not in payment of any damages, though Tom >admitted he was liable for some, JOEL: Duh. > but that Uncle Sam's war >securities were only a sort of bail, given to indicate that, >some time later. when a jury had passed on the matter, the >young inventor would pay Mr. Kanker whatever sum was agreed >upon as just. CROW: [Appleton] And now summarize how the legal process works-- >"And now," said Tom, as politely as he could under the >circumstances, JOEL: Still having a shotgun trained on him. > "I suppose we will be allowed to depart." > >"Yes, take your old shebang offen my property!" ordered >Mr. Kanker, with no very good grace. TOM: God smited him mightily for it. > "And if you go knocking >down any more barns, I'll double the price on you!" JOEL: [Kanker] Even if they ain't mine! >"I guess he's a bit roiled because he couldn't hold the >tank," observed Ned to Tom, CROW: [Ned] He had to accept the Liberty Bonds because otherwise he'd be pegged as a German supporter. > as they walked together to the >big machine. "His friends --our enemies-- TOM: Making Kanker guilty by association. > evidently hoped >that was what could be done. They want to get at some of the >secrets." CROW: [Ned] I hear Col. Sanders has twelve of them. >"I suppose so," conceded Tom. "Well, we're out of that, >and I've proved all I want to." TOM: [Tom Swift] Any tank that can knock down a barn can handle any war. >"But I haven't--quite," said Ned. > >"What's missing?" asked his chum, as they got back in the >tank. TOM: RADAR! > >"Well, I'd like to make sure that the fellow who ran from >the factory was the same one I saw sneaking out of the barn. CROW: [Ned] So ram down some more buildings, and he should come running out of one of them eventually. >I believe he was, and I believe that Simpson's crowd >engineered this whole thing." JOEL: No, no -- it's *Blakeson* who's the rival engineer, remember? >"I believe so, too," Tom agreed. "The next thing is to >prove it. But that will keep until later. TOM: [Tom Swift] I'll store it in Tupperware. > The main thing is >we've got our tank, and now I'm going to get her ready for >France." CROW: Oh, so that's where the chapter title came from. >"Will she be in shape to ship soon?" asked Ned. TOM: This line was donated by Dr. Suess. >"Yes, if nothing more happens. JOEL: Plenty of nothing has been happening already. > I've got a few little >changes and adjustments to make, and then she'll be ready >for the last test-- TOM: [Tom Swift] I'm going to make her listen to you blather on until she breaks. > one of long distance endurance mainly. >After that, apart she comes to go to the front, and we'll >begin making 'em in quantities here and on the other side." JOEL: Tom has a military contract with Heaven? >"Good!" cried Ned. "Down with the Huns!" CROW: Just threw that in for no apparent reason. >Without further incident of moment they went back to the >headquarters of the tank, JOEL: In the tallest oak tree in central park. > and soon the great machine was >safe in the shop where she had been made. > >The next two weeks were busy ones for Tom, and in them he >put the finishing touches on his machine, CROW: Painting scary faces on the front. > gave it a long >test over fields and through woods, TOM: Purposely targeting Mr. Kanker's livestock. > until finally he >announced: > JOEL: [Tom Swift] To Hell with the war effort! I'm taking over Shopton and renaming it The Kingdom of Tom Swift! >"She's as complete as I can make her! She's ready for >France!" CROW: [singing] They don't wear tanks in the Southern part of France.... [They exit the theater.] [1....2....3....4....5....6....SoL] [On the counter is scale replica of a farm, complete with small animals and full-grown crops. TOM and CROW are behind the counter, working remote controls. Cambot has added a scorecard across the bottom of the scene with a point total next to the names "TOM" and "CROW," each total growing in fits and spurts while the aforementioned Bots are busy guiding remote-control tanks through the fragile plants.] CROW: Ah, cool -- a cow! [A loud, distraught "MOO!" is heard, immediately followed by the sound effect of a side of beef being hit by a moving train. CROW's points jump significantly.] TOM: Darn it, Crow! I was heading for that one! CROW: Ha! Too bad, gumball brain! TOM: Oh yeah? Well, watch me take out Kanker's new grain silo! CROW: No -- I want that! [Too late. TOM's tank knocks over the scaled silo, spilling out the corn flakes which had been within. His score leaps ahead.] TOM: Whoo-hoo! This is the *only* reason to make tanks! [JOEL enters from the side, somewhat alarmed.] JOEL: Hey hey hey -- what are you guys doing here? [Not taking their attention from their contest, the Bots shake their heads in dismay.] TOM: Been talking more with Ned, Joel? CROW: Geez, what does it *look* like were doing? JOEL: Well, offhand, I'd say your fueling antisocial behavior and fanning the dangerous flames of self-importance above common consideration. TOM: Exactly. Now do you mind shutting up? There's only a scant amount of crops left to trash, and-- CROW: They're mine, Servo! TOM: No way! CROW: Way! TOM: Way not! CROW: Way too! [JOEL reaches over and picks up the tanks, much to the Bots dismay.] TOM: Hey what gives?! CROW: Yeah, I was about to win! TOM: In your dreams, Crow. I was way ahead! [The scores, still on the screen, reflect this.] JOEL: Enough! Time out! Hold it, guys. Look, I know it's fun to go around and impose your will on others, but I think you guys are taking this game just a little too seriously. TOM: So we happen to be passionate competitors, so what? CROW: Besides Joel, it's not like we're as dumb as Swift was. We weren't going to have our pilots get out of the tanks. JOEL: Wait. There's pilots in these things? [Over the following dialogue, JOEL begins taking out small action figures from the tanks.] CROW: Exactly. You see, the way the game works is that after you completely trash Kanker's farm, he comes out with his buddies and threatens you unless you pay. TOM: Right. But the trick then is to be the first to drive the tank over him. CROW: He's worth 300 points, and the car is another 100, and if you manage to get Ned, well-- JOEL: Well, as inspiring the last part may be, I think this game is a tad too violent for you guys. TOM: Oh, come on, Joel -- at least let us finish the game! JOEL: Sorry guys, but we both know that if one of you loses it'll start into another much ado about nothing, and since I don't feel like listening to another argument right now, I'd have to remove your voice emulation software. CROW: ...oh. TOM: Well, uh, I guess then that we can skip this one for now. Just call it a draw. CROW: Yeah. Still would have been nice to gotten in the top five. TOM: [grumbling] I would have been higher. CROW: [grumbling] Only if you smoked before playing. [They exit off to the side, continuing their grumbles. The commercial light starts to flash, but JOEL waits a moment to make sure the coast is clear, then leans towards Cambot.] JOEL: [quietly] Hey Cambot, show me the top five scores again. [The top five scores pop up, each one attributed to JOEL. He nods and grins.] JOEL: [Muhammad Ali] I'm still the best. [He swats the flasher.] [Bumper] [JOEL and the Bots enter the theater.] >Chapter XIX > >Tom is Missing TOM: [Tom Swift] Please note I said *the tank's* ready for France, not that *I'm* ready for France. >With Tom Swift's announcement, that his tank was at last >ready for real action, CROW: This time he'll charge an "abandoned" schoolhouse! > came the end of the long nights and >days given over on the part of his father, himself, and his >men to the development and refinement of the machine, to >getting plans and specifications ready so that the tanks >could be made quickly and in large numbers in this country >and abroad and to the actual building of Tank A. CROW: I think Appleton was docked pay every time he used a period. It's my only explanation. > Now all >this was done at last, and the first completed tank was >ready to be shipped. JOEL: [Dale] In a box of Puffy-Wuffies! >Meanwhile the matter of the demolished barn had been left >for legal action. CROW: So it should still be grinding slowly along to this very day. > Tom and Ned, it developed, had done the >proper thing under the circumstances, TOM: [Judge] Well, you're both white, and men, which makes it a difficult case, but Swift here has more money and his name ain't German. [Gavel bang] > and they were sure >they had foiled at least one plan of the plotters. JOEL: With Reynolds Wrap. >"But they won't stop there," declared Ned, who had >constituted himself a sort of detective. CROW: God have mercy on us all. > "They're lying back >and waiting for another chance, Tom." JOEL: Good thing German spies don't know what "taking the initiative" means. >"Well, they won't get it at my tank!" declared the young >inventor, with a smile. TOM: [Tom Swift] I just installed a German spy repellent inside. > "I've finished testing her on the >road. JOEL: And cornfields. > All I need do now is to run her around this place if I >have to; CROW: A rigorous battlefield simulation if there ever was. That's like driving a car around a parking lot to see if it can handle Black Bear Road. > and there won't be much need of that before she's >taken apart for shipment. Did you get any trace of Simpson >or the men who are with him--Blakeson and the others?" JOEL: Did I miss something? Is there the slightest hint that Blakeson is involved apart from the fact Blakeson doesn't like Tom? TOM: Well, those coded papers had Blakeson's name mentioned.... CROW: So if James Bond writes a letter in which he mentions he likes Little Debbie snack cakes, people automatically will think that Little Debbie has a license to kill. Right. >"No," Ned answered. "I've been nosing around about that >farmer, Kanker, but I can't get anything out of him. TOM: I seriously doubt Ned's interrogation skills could even get the directions to Canada from anything with a backbone. > For all >that, I'm sure he was egged on to his hold-up game by some >of your enemies. JOEL: Otherwise he would have more than happy to forgive the callous and utter unsolicited destruction of his barn. > Everything points that way." > >"I think you're right," agreed Tom. CROW: [Tom Swift] Which means my medication needs its potency increased again. > "Well, we won't bother >any more about him. When the trial comes on, TOM: [Tom Swift] I'll buy off the jury with more Liberty Bonds. > I'll pay what >the jury says is right. It'll be worth it, for I proved that >Tank A can eat up brick, stone or wooden buildings and not >get indigestion. CROW: And if that's all a tank was used for, Tank A would be in great shape. > That's what I set out to do. So don't worry >any more about it, Ned." TOM: [Tom Swift] Tell me how great I am some more. >"I'm not worrying, but I'd like to get the best of those >fellows. The idea of asking three thousand dollars for a >shell of a barn!" JOEL: A banker wanting to get the best of a farmer? Perish forbid! >"Never mind," replied Tom. "We'll come out all right." > >Now that the Liberty Loan drive had somewhat slackened, CROW: Due to the Swifts having bought them all. >Ned had more leisure time, TOM: Much to the dismay of the rest of the residents of Shopton. > and he spent parts of his days >and not a few of his evenings at Tom Swift's. CROW: Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. > Mr. Damon was >also a frequent visitor, and he never tired of viewing the >tank. JOEL: He's low-maintenance, which is what Tom looks for in friends. > Every chance he got, when they tested the big machine >in the large field, so well fenced in, the eccentric man was >on hand, with his. "bless my--!" whatever happened to come >most readily to his mind. CROW: Some of which were truly inappropriate things to bless. >Tom, now that his invention was well-nigh perfected, JOEL: Was really starting to get amazingly arrogant about it. > was >not so worried about not having the tank seen, even at close >range, and the enclosure was not so strictly guarded. CROW: All he had to do was affix a sign to the fence which read "Beware of Armor-Plated Baseball-Playing Elephants." >This in a measure was disappointing to Eradicate, TOM: He had won "Employee of the Month" for catching that spy. > who >liked the importance of strutting about with a nickel shield >pinned to his coat, to show that he was a member of the >Swift & Company plant. CROW: Back to the pushbrooms. > As for the giant Koku, he really >cared little what he did, TOM: He discovered the wisdom of The Toyes' "Smoke Two Joints." > so long as he pleased Tom, for >whom be had an affection that never changed. JOEL: So the Master-Servant relationship goes beyond just work? > Koku would as >soon sit under a shady tree doing nothing as watch for spies >or traitors, of whose identity he was never sure. CROW: He'd make a good foreign news correspondent. >So it came that there was not so strict a guard about the >place, and Tom and Ned had more time to themselves. JOEL: This point seems to be important. > Not that >the young inventor was not busy, for the details of shipping >Tank A to France came to him, CROW: Each part will be carried over by way of two swallows, hanging from a string attached to the birds under their dorsal guiding feathers. > as did also the arrangements >for making others in this country and planning for the >manufacture abroad. TOM: This monopoly wasn't going to build itself, after all. >It was one evening, after a particularly hard day's work, JOEL: Of squeching the rights of his workers. >when Tom had been making a test in turning the tank in a >small space in the enclosed yard, that the two young men >were sitting in the machine shop, discussing various >matters. TOM: [Tom Swift] It'll be so nice when the Germans are defeated, never to threaten the world again. CROW: [Ned] Indeed. So we all can sleep well knowing that even our friends in Italy and Japan will be safe from German influence. >The telephone bell rang, and Ned, being nearest, answered. CROW: [Ned] Tom Swift's Secret Tank Plant, how may I help you? >"It's for you, Tom," he said, TOM: [Tom Swift] It's my phone, moron. > and there was a smile on the >face of the young bank clerk. CROW: [Ned] You're adorable. >"Um!" murmured Tom, and he smiled also. TOM: [Tom Swift] You flatterer.... >Ned could not repress more smiles as Tom took up the >conversation over the wire, CROW: Because it was filthy, dirty talk. > and it did not take long for the >chum of the youthful inventor to verify his guess that Mary >Nestor was at the other end of the instrument. JOEL: Playing her tuba. >"Yes, yes," Tom was heard to say. "Why, of course, I'll be >glad to come over. Yes, he's here~. What? Bring him along? TOM: [Tom Swift] And the grippers, too? > I >will if he'll come. Oh, tell him Helen is there! CROW: [Tom Swift] And she's skipped her period, right-- > 'Nough >said! He'll come, all right!" > >And Tom, without troubling to consult his friend, JOEL: Not wanting to repeat everything five times before Ned started to grasp things. > hung up >the receiver. > >"What's that you're committing me to?" asked Ned. TOM: [Tom Swift] An assault on the Hindenburg line. >"Oh, Mary wants us to come over and spend the evening. >Helen Sever is there, JOEL: With her cousin, Anne Slice. >and they say we can take them downtown >if we like." CROW: I'm skeptical there's anything to do in downtown Shopton that can't be found in one's living room. >"I guess we like," laughed Ned. "Come along! We've had >enough of musty old problems," for he had been helping Tom >in some calculations regarding strength of materials and the >weight-bearing power of triangularly constructed girders as >compared to the arched variety. JOEL: Tom had bashed several different prototypes against Ned's thick skull to see which ones bent the least. >"Yes, I guess it will do us good to get out," and the two >friends were soon on their way. TOM: Said Themla to Lousie. >"What's this?" asked Mary, with a laugh, as Tom held out a >package tied with pink string. CROW: New grippers? > "More dynamite?" she added, >referring to an incident which had once greatly perturbed >the excitable Mr. Nestor. TOM: I can see how mail bombs would perturb someone. >"If she doesn't want it, perhaps Helen will take it," >suggested Ned, with a twinkle in his eyes. CROW: So they *are* grippers, then. > "Halloran said >they were just in fresh--" > >"Oh, you delightful boy!" cried Helen. JOEL: [Helen] Giving me a present that your best friend bought for his girl. > "I'm just dying for >some chocolates! Let me open them, Mary, if you're afraid of >dynamite." CROW: [Mary] You calling me a coward, bitch? >"The only powder in them," said Tom, "is the powdered >sugar. That can't blow you up." JOEL: [Tom Swift] It's the arsenic you should concern yourself with. TOM: Besides, powdered sugar will explode in the right conditions. If it's - >And then the young people made merry, JOEL: [Appleton] For the first and only time this story, I won't elaborate. > Tom, for the time >being, forgetting all about his tank. JOEL: [Tank A] Tom, you said you only loved me! Boo hoo! >It was rather late when the two young men strolled back >toward the Swift home, CROW: The man builds dozens of fantastic transports, but why use them for something practical like visiting his girl? > Ned walking that way with his chum. >Tom started out in the direction of the building where the >tank was housed, > >"Going to have a good-night look at her?" asked Ned. TOM: [Tom Swift] I did. Oh, the *tank*.... >"Well, I want to make sure the watchman is on guard. We'll >begin taking her apart in a few days, and I don't want >anything to happen between now and then." TOM: [Tom Swift] That's why I slackened security. >They walked on toward the big structure, and, as they >approached from the side, they were both startled to see a >dark shadow JOEL: Having only seen bright white shadows before. > --at least so it seemed to the youths--dart away >from one of the windows. > >"Look!" gasped Ned. > >"Hello, there!" cried Tom sharply. "Who's that? Who are >you?" CROW: [shadow] Someone who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men! >There was no answer, and then the fleeing shadow was >merged in the other blackness of the night. TOM: Sounds like one of Robert Jordan's Eyeless is on loan. >"Maybe it was the watchman making his rounds," suggested >Ned. CROW: Ned just refuses to process any information unaided. >"No," answered Tom, as he broke into a run. "If it was, >he'd have answered. There's something wrong here!" JOEL: Once more, Tom shows why the rest of the town calls him a genius. >But he could find nothing when he reached the window from >which he and Ned had seen the shadow dart. CROW: Not surprising, since shadows are, at best, two-dimensional objects. > An examination by >means of a pocket electric light TOM: I can't believe Appleton hasn't written a book about that yet. > betrayed nothing wrong with >the sash, and if there were footprints beneath the casement >they indicated nothing, for that side of the factory was one >frequently used by the workmen. JOEL: Not to mention the elephants. >Tom went into the building, and, for a time, could not >find the watchman. TOM: Playing Hide-and-Sleep again, eh? > When he did come upon the man, he found >him rubbing his eyes sleepily, and acting as though he had >just awakened from a nap. JOEL: The blanket and pillow sort of gave it away. >"This isn't any way to be on duty!" said Tom sharply. >"You're not paid for sleeping!" CROW: Tom has no clue what being a warehouse guard is all about. >"I know it, Mr. Swift," was the apologetic answer. "I >don't know what's come over me tonight. I never felt so >sleepy in all my life. TOM: [Tom Swift] Been reading "Caretaker," have you? > I had my usual sleep this afternoon, >too, and I've drunk strong coffee to keep awake." > >"Are you sure you didn't drink anything else?" JOEL: Tom's sore if there's beer parties that he's not part of. >"You know I'm a strict temperance man." > >"I know you are," said Tom; TOM: [Tom Swift] But what am I? > "but I thought maybe you might >have a cold, or something like that." CROW: People with a cold are driven to drink? TOM: [Tom Swift] Been hitting the NyQuil bottle again? >"No, I haven't taken a thing. JOEL: [watchman] Aside from some office supplies, of course. > I did have a drink of soda >water before I came on duty, but that's all." > >"Where'd you get it?" asked Tom. JOEL: [watchman] It was at the bottom of a bottle of Jack Daniels. >"Well, a man treated me." CROW: [watchman] For constipation. >"Who?" > >"I don't know his name. JOEL: [watchman] But he was really cute, so I didn't care. > He met me on the street and asked >me how to get to Plowden's hardware store. I showed him-- >walked part of the way, in fact--and when I left he said he >was going to have some soda, and asked me to have some. TOM: So he "left" only in the metaphorical sense, then. > I >did, and it tasted good." > >"Well, don't go to sleep again," suggested Tom good- >naturedly. TOM: [Tom Swift] Or I'll have your ass streamlined. > "Did you hear anything at the side window a while >ago?" CROW: [Ned] Like Germans plotting and twisting their moustaches? >"Not a thing, Mr. Swift. I'll be all right now. I'll take >a turn outside in the air." TOM: Was that slang in the 1910s for having to go to the bathroom? >"All right," assented the young inventor. > >Then, as he turned to go into the house and was bidding >Ned good-night, Tom said: TOM: [Tom Swift] I want him off of company property in 45 minutes. >"I don't like this." > >"What?" asked his chum. CROW: [Ned] I thought shadowy figures lurking about and watchmen inexplicably falling asleep around top secret military secrets during wartime is a normal occurrence. >"My sleepy watchman and the figure at the window. I more >than half suspect that one of Blakeson's tools followed Kent JOEL: To see if he really was Superman. >for the purpose of buying him soda, only I think they might >have put a drop or two of chloral in it before he got it. >That would make him sleep." CROW: I'm more worried that there could be any chloral in a drink that anyone would say "tasted good." >"What are you going to do, Tom?" > >"Put another man on guard. If they think they can get into >the factory at night, and steal my plans, or get ideas from >my tank, I'll fool 'em. I'll have another man on guard." TOM: Don't check for any missing or disturbed parts or anything. >This Tom did, also telling Koku to sleep in the place, to >be ready if called. CROW: Koku didn't mind, as he was used to sleeping on hard floors with no mats or pillows while under Tom's "employment." > But there was no disturbance that night, >and the next day the work of completing the tank went on >with a rush, CROW: Whoa, trippin' trails, man.... >It was a day or so after this, and Tom had fixed on it as >the time for taking the big machine apart for shipment, that >Ned received a telephone message at the bank from Mr. Damon. JOEL: [Mr. Damon] What's this crap about me buying 3500 Liberty Bonds from you? CROW: [Ned] Well, I just assumed you'd be more than willing to mortgage your car, house, and wife to help with the war... you're not a Boche spy, are you? >"Is Tom Swift over with you?" inquired the eccentric man. > >"No. Why?" Ned answered. > >"Well, I'm at his shop, and he isn't here. His father says >he received a message from you a little while ago, saying to >come over in a hurry, and he went. Says you told him to meet >you out at that farmer Kanker's place. CROW: [Mr. Damon] This is the Kanker place, isn't it? > I thought maybe--" > >"At Kanker's place!" cried Ned. "Say, something's wrong, >Mr. Damon! CROW: Ned's brain makes a noble attempt at growing a cerebral cortex. > Isn't Tom there?" CROW: And fails, alas. >"No; I'm at his home, and he's been gone for some time. TOM: [Mr. Damon] He left a note saying so. >His father supposed he was with you. I thought I would >telephone to make sure." JOEL: [Mr. Damon] If he's not, that's I'll I wanted to know. Bye! >"Whew!" whistled Ned. "There's something doing here, all >right, and something wrong! CROW: [Ned] I can feel my brain making sense, and it frightens me. > I'll be right over!" he added, >as he hung up the receiver. TOM: Even Lassie would know to go to Kanker's place first. >Chapter XX > CROW: Hugs and Kisses, from Chapter. >The Search > > >"Haven't you seen anything of him?" asked Mr. Damon, as >Ned jumped out of his small runabout CROW: Mr. Damon thought he recognized Tom's sweater caught up in one of Ned's wheelwells. > at the Swift home as >soon as possible after receiving the telephone message that >seemed to presage something wrong. JOEL: Deep within Ned's empty brain cavity, sentience struggles to live. >"Seen him? No, certainly not!" answered the young bank >clerk. CROW: [Ned] I've never met him in my life! > "I'm as much surprised as you are over it. What >happened, anyhow?" > >"Bless my memorandum pad, but I hardly know!" answered the >eccentric man. TOM: I'd feel more reassured if Eradicate and Koku were on the case. > "I arrived here a little while ago, stopping >in merely to pay Tom a visit, as I often do, and he wasn't >here. JOEL: Tom must've seen him coming. > His father was anxiously waiting for him, too, wishing >to consult him about some shop matters. JOEL: The workers were rising up against oppression again. > Mr. Swift said Tom >had gone out with you, or over to your house--I wasn't quite >sure which at first-- CROW: [Mr. Damon] My mind can only handle so many pronouns at once. > and was expected back any minute. > >"Then I called you up," went on Mr. Damon, "and I was >surprised to learn you hadn't seen Tom. There must be >something wrong, I think." TOM: Ah, it all becomes clear, now. The residents of Shopton, except for the Swifts, share a collective intelligence. Someone else in town must be buttoning their coat and thereby placing a strain on the town's remaining IQ resources. >"I'm sure of it!" exclaimed Ned. "Let's find Mr. Swift. CROW: No, no Ned... it's *Tom* Swift who's missing, not *Mr.* Swift. >And what's this about his going to meet me over at the place >of that farmer, Mr. Kanker, where we had the trouble about >the barn Tom demolished?" TOM: Ned just answered his own question. >"I hardly know, myself. CROW: [Mr. Damon] Cripes, why do you think I asked you the same thing when I called? > Perhaps Mr. Swift can tell us." > >But Mr. Swift was able to throw but little light on Tom's >disappearance TOM: Should've used Tom's Gaint Searchlight. > --whether a natural or forced disappearance >remained to be seen. CROW: So they all sat down and twiddled thumbs while they waited. >"No matter where he is, we'll get him," declared Ned. CROW: [Ned] That stuck-up brat has had this coming for a long time! > "He >hasn't been away a great while, and it may turn out that his >absence is perfectly natural." TOM: Why couldn't Ned have been the kidnapped victim? CROW: Because nobody would look for him. >"And if it's due to the plots of any of his rivals," said >Mr. Damon, JOEL: He should walk through the door any second now. > "I'll denounce them all as traitors, bless my >insurance policy, if I don't! And that's what they are! >They're playing into the hands of the enemy!" CROW: They've been consorting with German spies throughout the story and it just now dawns on Mr. Damon that they aren't on the side of the Allies. >"All right," said Ned. "But the thing to do now is to get >Tom. Perhaps Mrs. Baggert can help us." TOM: She was a nurse in the Civil War and can track lost boy inventors. >It developed that the housekeeper was of more assistance >in giving information than was Mr. Swift. JOEL: She was used to having to do all the work around the house. >"It was several hours ago," she said, "that the telephone >rang and some one asked for Tom. The operator shifted the >call to the phone out in the tank shop where he was, and Tom >began to talk. The operator, as Tom had instructed her, >listened in, as Tom wants always a witness to most matters >that go on over his wires of late." TOM: This is what he means by "slackening security?" >"What did she hear?" asked Ned eagerly. JOEL: Mrs. Baggert blushed at the thought of repeating the conversation. >"She heard what she thought was your voice, I believe," >the housekeeper said. CROW: Hey, wait -- if the operator had shifted the call to Tom, why was Mrs. Braggert still on the phone? TOM: So that's why she has that little black book right next to the phone.... >"Me!" cried the young bank clerk. "I haven't talked to Tom >to-day, over the phone or any other way. JOEL: [Mrs. Baggert] I thought Tom seemed in unusually high spirits today. > But what next?" > >"Well, the operator didn't listen much after that, CROW: But stayed on the line anyway. > knowing >that any talk between Tom and you was of a nature not to >need a witness. JOEL: You mean, "to be witness to." > Tom hung up and then he came in here, quite >excited, and began to get ready to go out." > >"What was he excited about?" asked Mr. Damon. "Bless my >unlucky stars, but a person ought to keep calm under such >circumstances! JOEL: [Mr. Damon] Not that I'm one to talk. > That's the only way to do! Keep calm! Great >Scott! But if I had my way, all those German spies would be >-- Oh, pshaw! Nothing is too bad for them! It makes my blood >boil when I think of what they've done! Tom should have kept >cool!" CROW: He could have continued on for hours, but his skyrocketing blood pressure resulted in a stroke and dropped him on the spot. >"Go on. What was Tom excited about?" Ned turned to the >housekeeper. > >"Well, he said you had called him to tell him to meet you >over at that farmer's place," went on Mrs. Baggert. CROW: [Mrs. Baggert] He said he was told to come alone, with lots of money stuffed in his pockets and the top secret war tank designs in his hands. Is there something wrong? > "He said >you had some news for him about the men who had tried to get >hold of some of his tank secrets, CROW: They were German. > and he was quite worked up >over the chance of catching the rascals." JOEL: [Mrs. Baggert] Well, he didn't actually use the word "rascals," but I added it so you boys know I'm still swinging and hip. >"Whew!" whistled Ned. "This is getting more complicated >every minute. TOM: [Ned] My tiny little mind can hardly keep up with all of the syllables! > There's something deep here, Mr. Damon." CROW: It's that stuff Kanker spreads over his fields to help crop growth. >"I agree with you, Ned. And the sooner we find Tom Swift >the better. What next, Mrs. Baggert?" JOEL: [Mrs. Baggert] How about you going to look for him, dolt. >"Well, Tom got ready and went away in his small >automobile. TOM: He invented the Geo? > He said he'd be back as soon as he could after >meeting you." > >"And I never said a word to him!" cried Ned. "It's all a >plot--a scheme of that Blakeson gang to get him into their >power. CROW: Ned's really puffing up his denial here, isn't he? > Oh, how could Tom be so fooled? TOM: Too much exposure to you, I suspect. > He knows my voice, >over the phone as well as otherwise. CROW: Across the pillows.... > I don't see how he >could be taken in." > >"Let's ask the telephone operator," suggested Mr. Damon. >"She knows your voice, too. TOM: [Ned] Oh you mean Candy at 1-900-S-- > Perhaps she can give us a clew." CROW: [Ned] Kewl. >A talk with the young woman at the telephone switchboard >in the Swift plant brought out a new point. JOEL: She had incriminating evidence against everyone. > This was that >the speaker, in response to whose information Tom Swift had >left home, had not said he was Ned Newton. CROW: Ah, the speaker had some dignity, I see. >"He said," reported Miss Blair, JOEL: On leave from the Witch Project. > "that he was speaking for >you, Mr. Newton, as you were busy in the bank. TOM: Foreclosing on farms. > Whoever it >was, said you wanted Tom to meet you at the Kanker farm. I >heard that much over the wire, and naturally supposed the >message came from you." JOEL: Joey Skaggs would have a field day with this place. >"Well, that puts a little different face on it," said Mr. >Damon. "Tom wasn't deceived by the voice, then, for he must >have thought it was some one speaking for you, Ned." TOM: Of course, as we all know, in actuality Ned is all too eager to speak for himself. >"But the situation is serious, just the same," declared >Ned. "Tom has gone to keep an appointment I never made, and >the question is with whom will he keep it?" CROW: [Ned] Can't be German spies -- I scared them all out of town! >"That's it!" cried the eccentric man. "Probably some of >those scoundrels were waiting at the farm for him, and >they've got him no one knows where by this time!" TOM: Someone from the future found out he would father all the Mary Sues in the world and took appropriate action. >"Oh, hardly as bad as that," suggested Ned. "Tom is able >to look out for himself. JOEL: Nothing shows you more that you've committed some great sin than when Ned is your best hope for rescue. > He'd put up a big fight before he'd >permit himself to be carried off." TOM: [Ned] Why, someone would have to shoot him before... hey, wait a minute.... >"Well, what do you think did happen?" asked Mr. Damon. > JOEL: [Mr. Damon] You can tell I'm desperate because I'm actually asking you for your thoughts. >"I think they wanted to get him out to the farm to see if >they couldn't squeeze some more money out of him," was the >answer. "Tom was pretty easy in that barn business, JOEL: [Ned] Just a whisper and he was waiting in the hayloft-- > and I >guess Kanker was sore JOEL: That's almost accidental humor. > because he haven't asked a larger sum. >They knew Tom wouldn't come out on their own invitation, CROW: [Hun spy] Tom, would you come out to a nice, secluded space so we can beat the information out of you? TOM: [Tom Swift] By Jove, but I suspect something fishy about that request.... > so >they forged my name, so to speak." > >"Can you get Tom back?" asked Mrs. Baggert anxiously. JOEL: [Tom Swift] On no! I've been tricked, and am now captured by vicious Hun spies! Fortunately, I know my trusty and loyal friends, Ned and Mr. Damon, will soon ride to my rescue! >"Of course!" declared Ned, though it must be admitted he >spoke with more confidence than he really felt. "We'll begin >the search right away." TOM: [Hun Spy 1] Now, Herr Swift, for every minute you do not divulge your secrets, ve shall pull off one of your fingernails. JOEL: [Tom Swift] Anytime now, guys.... >"And if I can get my hands on any of those villains--" >spluttered Mr. Damon, dancing around, as Mrs. Baggert said, >"like a hen on a hot griddle," which seemed to describe him >very well, "if I can get hold of any of those scoundrels, >I'll--I'll-- Bless my collar button, I don't know what I >will do! Come on, Ned!" TOM: [Hun Spy 1] Blast! Out of fingernails. CROW: [Hun Spy 2] Begin with the toenails, then! >"Yes, I guess we'd better get busy," agreed the young bank >clerk. "Tom has gone somewhere, that's certain, and under a >misapprehension. It may be that we are needlessly alarmed, >or they may mean bad business. At any rate, it's up to us to >find Tom." TOM: [Hun Spy 1] Arg! No more toenails, now! And still he resists! CROW: [Hun Spy 2] Maybe he's in too much pain to make any sense? TOM: [Hun Spy 1] Nonsense! Come -- we carve "Hun Spies were here" on his back with rusty bits of metal. >In Ned's runabout, which was a speedier car than that of >the eccentric man, the two set off for Kanker's farm. On the >way they stopped at various places in town, where Tom was in >the habit of doing business, to inquire if he had been seen. TOM: [Hun Spy 1] He blathers much, but still no sense is making. CROW: [Hun Spy 2] Then he need more motivation. Bring pliers. >But there was no trace of him. The next thing to do was to >learn if he had really started for the Kanker farm. CROW: [Hun Spy 2] Well, no more teeth to pull. TOM: [Hun Spy 1] He has hair to pull out still, no? >"For if he didn't go there," suggested Ned, "it will look >funny for us to go out there making inquiries about him. And >it may be that after he got that message Tom decided not to >go. TOM: [Hun Spy 1] Arg -- again he pass out! CROW: [Hun Spy 2] Let us wake him, then. Give me branding iron. >Accordingly they made enough inquiries to establish the >fact that Tom had started for the farm of the rascally >Kanker, who had been so insistent in the matter of his >almost worthless barn. TOM: [Hun Spy 1] I no like how his eyes roll independently of each other. CROW: [Hun Spy 2] I agree. Grab ice pick and we shall remove one. >A number of people who knew Tom well had seen him pass in >the direction of Kanker's place, and some had spoken to him, >for the young inventor was well known in the vicinity of >Shopton and the neighboring towns. TOM: [Hun Spy 1] American swine! How dare he stain my uniform with his inferior blood gushing from his ocular cavity?! CROW: [Hun Spy 2] He must be punished! Fire up the thresher! >"Well, out to Kanker's we'll go!" decided Ned. "And if >anything has happened to Tom there--well, we'll make whoever >is responsible wish it hadn't!" TOM: [Hun Spy 1] Idiot! He was only supposed to have his lower half inserted! CROW: [Hun Spy 2] Not my fault -- his arms all covered with slippery blood! You would have lost your grip as well! >"Bless my fountain pen, but that's what we will!" chimed >in Mr. Damon. TOM: [Hun Spy 1] Bah. My uniform was stained, American engineer reduced to gory mulch, and we still got no information for on tank for der Kaiser. CROW: [Hun Spy 2] Indeed, has been waste of day. Come, let us go visit tavern for beer in honor of fatherland. TOM: [Hun Spy 1] Your turn to buy. >And so the two began the search for the missing youth. JOEL: These are the men who, if bringing your stay of execution, would wind up having to tape it to your headstone. TOM: Well, on that high note, let's go. [They exit the theater.] [1 ... 2 ... 3 ... 4 ... 5 ... 6 ... SoL] [CROW and TOM are behind the counter; CROW's sporting a deerhunter cap a la Sherlock Holmes and is carrying a magnifying glass, while TOM has a small spyglass in his hands. They are in the middle of a discussion.] CROW: I just can't believe that Joel was kidnapped! TOM: Still no sign of him over on the right side of the ship, I'm afraid -- I'm starting to get worried, Crow. Where could he possibly be? [JOEL enters from the right.] JOEL: Oh, hey guys. What's up? TOM: JOEL! CROW: Thank God you're here, Joel! You can help us search for yourself! JOEL: Come again? CROW: Joel, you've been kidnapped! And we can't find you anywhere! It's horrible! TOM: We need every pair of hands possible to find you, Joel, as ours don't work. JOEL: Uh... I'm kidnapped? CROW: Sad, isn't it? You've been missing for weeks now! JOEL: Weeks? TOM: Unfortunately so. JOEL: And... uh... you haven't found me yet? CROW: Yeah, you've been hid really well. I mean, we started the minute we found out! TOM: Exactly! First thing we did was plan out what we would do if we ever found the guys who kidnapped you, which basically took up the first couple of days. CROW: Then it was on to the mall to get the equipment needed for your immediate rescue! TOM: And to catch a couple of movies to validate our parking. CROW: Right, and by then, it was the weekend, so we took a break from our exhaustive search by hitting Cedar Point and King's Island. TOM: We started bright and early on Morning afternoon at 3, and worked diligently at going over our progress so far until five. CROW: The next few days were rigorous exercises in clue-gathering, with over 132 calls placed to information in all. TOM: They weren't much help, though. CROW: Next thing you know, it was the weekend again, so we adjourned to Tom's room to watch cartoons and snack on RAM chips. TOM: We probably shouldn't have eaten so much, as we had to take a sick day on Monday. CROW: But we rallied our strength and celebrated our progress so far with a day of bowling and eating pork rinds. TOM: The next day was another sick day-- JOEL: Hold it, hold it, guys. So how much time have you actually spent looking for me? CROW: Countless minutes, at least! TOM: And a few seconds, just because we love you. JOEL: I'll bet. Well guys, look's like your search is over. BOTS: Really? JOEL: Well, yeah. I mean, I'm right here. CROW: Well, duh, Joel, we can see that, but how exactly does that mean our search is over? JOEL: Because I'm here -- I'm not kidnapped. TOM: Joel, that's an exceedingly stupid observation to make, even for you. So what if you're here? *Our* problem is that you've been kidnapped, and we can't seem to find you! CROW: Unless -- oh, Joel! Do you know where you're being kept at? TOM: Yes! You have some sort of secret information to pass along, eh? Excellent! JOEL: Well, I-- CROW: Come on and spill it, Joel; the sooner you do the sooner we can find you. [JOEL shrugs helplessly.] JOEL: Okay. Uh... I'm hidden somewhere in the loadpans. TOM: The loadpans? CROW: What? JOEL: Well, when's the last time you cleaned them out? [The Bots mumble something about no time while searching for JOEL.] JOEL: See? You'd better go clean them out, to see which one I'm in. TOM: I didn't even think he could fit in one.... CROW: Must've had a run-in with the thresher.... [The Bots wander off the stage. Commercial light starts to flash.] JOEL: [calling after them] If you can't find me there, you'd better clean out the docking bay next! [He swats the light.] [Bumper.] >Chapter XXI > >A Prisoner > >Amos Kanker came to the door of his farmhouse as Ned and >Mr. Damon drove up in the runabout. CROW: Two blasts from the shotgun, and peace once again resumed. > There was an unpleasant >grin on the not very prepossessing face of the farmer, and >what Ned thought was a cunning look, TOM: After checking his guide to facial expressions. > as he slouched out and >asked: CROW: [Kanker] You know they kicked me out of Posture Pals? >"Well, what do you want? Come to smash up any more of my >barns at three thousand dollars a smash?" JOEL: That almost sounds like an invitation. >"Hardly," answered Ned shortly. "Your prices are too high >for such ramshackle barns as you have. TOM: This is going to be a Shopton controversy for years. > Where's Tom Swift?" >he asked sharply. JOEL: [Estevban] Is your blade as sharp as your tongue? TOM: [Zorro] Is yours as dull as your wit? >"Huh! Do you mean that young whipper-snapper with his big >traction engine?" demanded Mr. Kanker. JOEL: I think you'd easily remember the name of the guy you're suing for three- thousand dollars. >"Look here!" blustered Mr. Damon, "Tom Swift is neither a >whippersnapper CROW: [Mr. Damon] He's a slave-driver! > nor is his machine a traction engine. TOM: Well, it'll put a lot of people in traction..... > It's a >war tank." JOEL: [Tank A, singing] Ya better watch out, 'cause I'm a war machine! >"That doesn't matter much to me," said the farmer, with a >grating laugh. TOM: [Kanker] I know which end of the whip I'm at. > "It looks like a traction engine, though it >smashes things up more'n any one I ever saw." CROW: [Kanker] And I've seen plenty o' traction engines smashing up barns. >"That isn't the point," broke in Ned. "Where is my friend, >Tom Swift? That's what we want to know." JOEL: Because ineffective minds want to know. >"Huh! What makes you think I can tell you?" demanded >Kanker. JOEL: [Ned] Think? Me? >"Didn't he come out here?" asked Mr. Damon. > >"Not as I knows of," was the surly answer. > >"Look here!" exclaimed Ned, CROW: [Ned] It is the beating of his hideous heart! Tear up the floorboards! > and his tones were firm, with >no bluster nor bluff in them, "we came out here to find Tom >Swift, and were going to find him! TOM: Ooo, grrr. > We have reason to believe >he's here--at least, he started for here," he substituted, >as he wished to make no statement he could not prove. JOEL: Then he should shut up right now. > "Now >we don't claim we have any right to be on your property, CROW: [Kanker] So get outta here! TOM: [Ned] Oops. > and >we don't intend to stay here any longer than we can help. JOEL: [Ned] This place stinks like my cousin Ethel's toes. >But we do claim the right, in common decency, to ask if you >have seen anything of Tom. There may have been an accident; TOM: No, that was back in the hawk in Chapter One. >there may have been foul play; and there may be >international complications in this business. TOM: [Ned] There may be flying monkeys planning to kidnap Stalin. > If there are, >those involved won't get off as easily as they think. I'd >advise you to keep a civil tongue in your head and answer >our questions. CROW: Come on, Kanker, and deck this city boy! > If we have to get the police and detectives >out here, CROW: Rad and Koku? > as well as the governmental department of justice, >you may have to answer their questions, TOM: [Ned] Or give witness to the fact that we were trespassing and disturbing the peace. > and they won't be as >decent to you as we are!" CROW: [Ned] They might snarl at you! >"Hurray!" whispered Mr. Damon to Ned. "That's the way to >talk!" JOEL: I think Mr. Damon was attempting to be sarcastic. >And indeed the forceful remarks of the young bank clerk >did appear to have a salutary effect on the surly farmer. CROW: Kanker spit his tobacco juice squarely in Ned's face. >His manner changed at once and his grin faded. > >"I don't know nothing about Tom Swift or any of your >friends," he said. TOM: [Ned] No? Well the what you need is the complete series of Tom Swift books, essential for every American's library! > "I've got my farm work to do, and I do >it. JOEL: [Kanker] Except on Tuesdays, when I translate Egyptian coffin texts for kicks. > It's hard enough to earn a living these war times CROW: People stop eating during war time, you know. JOEL: Well, some do. >without taking part in plots. TOM: With these plots? Are you serious? > I haven't seen Tom Swift since >the trouble he made about my barn." > >"Then he hasn't been here to-day?" asked Ned. > >"No; and not for a good many days." JOEL: Let's see if this sinks in. >Ned looked at Mr. Damon, and the two exchanged uneasy >glances. CROW: At a swap meet. > Tom had certainly started for the Kanker farm, and >indeed had come to within a few miles of it. TOM: Just close enough to get within range of the Electro-Missile. > That much was >certain, as testified to by a number of residents along the >route from Shopton, who had seen the young inventor passing >in his car. TOM: Mooning his greetings to them. CROW: Smashing through their fences. >Now it appeared he had not arrived. The changed air of the >farmer seemed to indicate that he was speaking the truth. JOEL: Having been cowed by Ned. Right. >Mr. Damon and Ned were inclined to believe him. CROW: Mr. Damon and Ned were inclined to believe in the Easter Bunny. > If they had >any last, lingering doubts in the matter, they were >dispelled when Mr. Kanker said: TOM: [Kanker] Down with the Huns! >"You can search the place if you like. I haven't any >reason to feel friendly toward you, CROW: [Kanker] Seeing as how you destroyed the barn my father built. > but I certainly don't >want to get into trouble with the Government. JOEL: Mr. Kanker has a good grasp on how to make his life easier. > Look around >all you like." TOM: [Kanker] We close at six. >"No, we'll take your word for it," said Ned, quickly >concluding that now they had got the farmer where they >wanted him, JOEL: His banker instincts were telling him now was the time to foreclose! > they could gain more by an appearance of >friendliness than by threats or harsh words. "Then you >haven't seen him, either?" CROW: Maybe Ned just has no short-term memory. >"Not a sign of him." > >"One thing more," went on Tom's chum, "and then we'll look >farther. Weren't you induced by a man named Simpson, or one >named Blakeson, to make the demand of three thousand >dollars' damage for your barn?" JOEL: Objection, your honor; prosecution is leading the witness. >"No, it wasn't anybody of either of those names," admitted >Mr. Kanker, evidently a bit put out by the question. JOEL: [Kanker] You implyin' that people talk to me? >"It was some one, though, wasn't it?" insisted Ned. CROW: No, Ned, it was Kanker's magical pitchfork that telepathically informed the farmer about it. >"Waal, a man did come to me the day the barn was smashed, >and just afore it happened, and said an all-fired big >traction engine was headed this way, and that a young feller >who was half crazy was running it. JOEL: He was telling the truth so far. > This man--I don't know >who he was, being a stranger to me--said if the engine ran >into any of my property and did damages I should collect for >it on the spot, or hold the machine. CROW: [Kanker] He said that I should love it and kiss it and call it Tank A. Strange feller. >"Sure enough, that's what happened, and I did it. JOEL: Mr. Kanker is easily led. > That >man had an auto, and he brought me and some of my men out to >the smashed barn. That's all I know about it." > >"I thought some one put you up to it," commented Ned. TOM: [Ned] Since farmers aren't bright enough to know that they can get money from people who wrongly destroy their property. >"This was some of the gang's work," he went on to Mr. Damon. >"They hoped to get possession of Tom's tank long enough to >find out some of the secrets. By having the Liberty Bonds, I >fooled 'em." TOM: Nothing's impossible with Liberty Bonds! >"That's what you did!" said Mr. Damon. JOEL: [Mr. Damon] I read about it nine or ten times by now. > "But what can we do >now?" > >"I don't know," Ned was forced to admit. CROW: Big surprise. > "But I should >think we'd better go back to the last place where he was >seen to pass in his auto, and try to get on his trail." > >Mr. Damon agreed that this was a wise plan, JOEL: He's just saying that so Ned will stop talking. > and, after a >casual look around the farmhouse and other buildings on >Kanker's place TOM: Skipping the outhouse. > and finding nothing to arouse their >suspicions, CROW: [Ned] Say, look at this pile of icky, red stuff. TOM: [Mr. Damon] Yuck -- come on, let's get upwind of it. > the two left in Ned's speedy little machine. JOEL: There's a manly description of a car if I ever heard one. >"It is mighty queer!" remarked the young bank clerk, as >they shot along the country road. CROW: [Ned] It's almost as if Tom was trying to avoid us. > "It isn't like Tom to get >caught this way." TOM: He must have taken his brain out last night for a weekly enzyme cleaning and then forgot to put it back in. >"Maybe he isn't caught," suggested the other. JOEL: [Mr. Damon] Maybe he's just dead. > "Tom has >been in many a tight place and gotten out, as you and I well >know. [A bit of sputtering and coughing.] > Maybe it will be the same now, though it does look >suspicious, that fake message coming from you." TOM: Mr. Damon may be on to something.... >"Not coming from me, you mean," corrected Ned. "Well, >we'll do the best we can." CROW: Might as well buy Tom's cemetery plot now, then. >They proceeded back to where they had last had a trace of >Tom in his machine, and there could only confirm what they >had learned at first, namely, CROW: That they're idiots. > that the young inventor had >departed in the direction of the Kanker farm, after having >filled his radiator with water, JOEL: And his belly with wine. > and chatting with a farmer >he knew. TOM: The only one who's crops weren't torn up. >"Then this is where the trail divides," said Ned, as they >went back over the road, coming to a point where the highway >branched off. JOEL: [Ned] So unless I miss my guess, there's another road here. > "If he went this way, he went to Kanker's >place, or he would be in the way of going. He isn't there, >it seems, and didn't go there." CROW: Remember, Ned's neurons are not being shown in slow-motion. This is how fast they really go. >"If he took the other road, where would he go?" asked Mr. >Damon. TOM: The path less traveled? CROW: It makes all the difference. >"Any one of a dozen places. JOEL: Quebec, Peru, Zanzibar.... > I guess we'll have to follow >the trail and make all the inquiries we can." > >But from the point where the two roads branched, all trace CROW: That name sounds familiar.... >of Tom Swift was lost. No one had seen him in his machine, >though he was known to more than one resident along the high >way. TOM: His earlier romps in the tank had not yet been forgotten. >"Well, what are we going to do?" asked Mr. Damon, after >they had traveled some distance and had obtained no dews. [TOM chuckles] TOM: Transcription errors are always fun. >"Suppose we call up his home," suggested Ned, CROW: [Ned] And ask him if he's seen himself recently. > as they came >to a country store where there was a telephone. "It may be >he has returned. In that case, all our worry has gone for >nothing." JOEL: [Ned] The insensitive creep. >"I don't believe it has," said Mr. Damon. "But if we call >up and ask if Tom is back it will show we haven't found him, >and his father will be more worried than ever." TOM: Considering the source, I doubt Mr. Swift will be surprised. >"We can ask the telephone girl, and tell her to keep quiet >about it," decided Ned; and this they did. JOEL: The telephone girl resented being treated like a wiretapper and reported them both to Washington as treasonous Boche supporters. >But the answer that came back over the wire was >discouraging. CROW: The Lakers were down by 12 with only a minute to go. > For Tom had not returned, and there was no >word from him. TOM: He's currently dining with Judge Carter and Jimmy Hoffa. > There was an urgent message for him, too, >from government officials regarding the tank, the girl >reported. JOEL: The German government, I bet. >"Well, we've just got to find him--that's all!" declared >Ned. "I guess we'll have to make a regular search of it. CROW: [Ned] Damn! I hate having to expend any more effort than I have to when searching for my best friend. > I >did hope we'd find him out at the Kanker farm. CROW: [Ned] Or at least part of him. > But since he >isn't there, nor anywhere about, as far as we can tell, >we've got to try some other plan." JOEL: [Ned] Let's set up a Liberty Bond stand and see if that draws him out. >"You mean notify the authorities?" -- asked Mr. Damon. TOM: Desperately trying to wedge some logic into Ned's little world. >"Hardly that--yet. JOEL: Ned, you really should not be in charge of this operation. > But I'll get some of Tom's friends who >have machines, CROW: [Ned] Big machines. > and we'll start them out on the trail. In >that way we can cover a lot of ground." TOM: [Ned] The authorities can't do this because... uh.... >Late that afternoon, and far into the night, a number of >the friends of Tom and Ned went about the country in >automobiles, seeking news of the young inventor. CROW: And some snipes. > Mr. Swift >became very anxious over the non-return of his son, CROW: I'll give Appleton that much -- at least Mr. Swift is showing more concern for his son than Julian Bashir's dad did in "Stolen Memories." > and felt >the authorities should be notified; but as all agreed that >the local police could not handle the matter TOM: I just don't believe this. > and that it >would have to be put into the hands of the United States >Secret Service, he consented to wait for a while before >doing this. JOEL: [Exploding] WHY? >All the next day the search was kept up, and Ned and Mr. >Damon were getting discouraged, not to say alarmed, when, >most unexpectedly, they received a clew. CROW: Written in old English. >They had been traveling around the country on little- >frequented roads in the hope that perhaps Tom might have >taken one and disabled his machine so that he was unable to >proceed. TOM: So he just sat there for two days never attempting to flag down a passing motorist? >"Though in that case he could, and would, have sent word," >said Ned. JOEL: See -- even Ned knows that. >"Unless he's hurt," suggested Mr. Damon. CROW: [Mr. Damon] Maybe not bringing in the authorities' manpower to aid the search was a bad idea. JOEL: [Ned] Of course not; I thought of it. >"Well, maybe that is what's happened," Ned was saying, >when they noticed coming toward them a very much dilapidated >automobile, TOM: Hey, it's my mother! The car! > driven by a farmer, and on the seat beside him >was a small, barefoot boy. JOEL: Huck Finn in a surprising cameo. >"Which is the nearest road to Shopton?" asked the man, CROW: [farmer] I gotta get this boy to market. >bringing his wheezing machine to a stop. TOM: That'd be a cool title for one of Tom's books; "Tom Swift and his Wheezing Machine." CROW: Sounds like a literary adaptation of "Mr. Frump In The Iron Lung." >"Who are you looking for in Shopton?" asked Ned, while a >strange feeling came over him that, somehow or other, CROW: It was time for a potty break. > Tom >was concerned in the question. JOEL: Being the God-King of America, how could he not be? >"I'm looking for friends of a Tom Swift," was the answer. CROW: Even strangers can't utter a phrase without dropping Tom's name. >"Tom Swift? Where is he? What's happened to him?" cried >Ned. > >"Bless my dyspepsia tablets!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. TOM: Rightly spooking the farmer, who tore off in a cloud of dust. > "Do you >know where he is?" > >"Not exactly," answered the farmer; "but here's a note >from some one that signs himself 'Tom Swift,' and it says >he's a prisoner!" JOEL: You think Appleton got paid for writing the note, too? >Chapter XXII > >Rescued CROW: I'd actually welcome the talking mice at this point. >For a moment Ned and Mr. Damon gazed at the farmer in his >rattletrap of an auto, TOM: [Ned] Wow! I don't think I ever saw a car before. > and then they looked at the >fluttering piece of paper in his hand. JOEL: [Ned] I can't be sure, but I think that note may be important. > Thence their gaze >traveled to the ragged and barefoot lad sitting beside the >farmer. CROW: Thank God this isn't taking place in Ancient Athens. >"I found it!" announced the boy. > >"Found what?" asked Ned. TOM: [boy] The Boy's Law of Displacement and Specific Gravity! >"That there note!" > >Without asking any more questions, reserving them until >they knew more about the matter, JOEL: The questions would never be asked, then. > Mr. Damon and Ned each >reached out a hand for the paper the farmer held. TOM: [Ned] Me first! CROW: [Mr. Damon] No, me! TOM: [Ned] ME! CROW: [Mr. Damon] ME!! > The latter >handed it to Ned, being nearest him, and at a sight of the >handwriting the young bank clerk exclaimed: JOEL: [Ned] I've been drafted! No! --I mean, uh, yay. >"It's from Tom, all right!" > >"What happened to him?" cried Mr. Damon. "Where is he? Is >he a prisoner?" TOM: [farmer] I just told you that's what it said. You're not very bright, are you? >"So it seems," answered Ned. "Wait, I'll read It to you," JOEL: I thought Stephen King wrote that one. >and he read: CROW: One ring to rule them all.... >"'Whoever picks this up TOM: Is the rightful ruler of England! > please send word at once to Mr. >Swift or to Ned Newton in Shopton, or to Mr. Damon of >Waterfield. I am a prisoner, locked in the old factory. CROW: Oh, that narrows it down. > Tom >Swift'" TOM: [Tom Swift] There. Even Ned ought to understand that. >"Bless my quinine pills!" cried Mr Damon. TOM: Mr. Damon was unashamed of his frequent abuse of drugs. > "What in the >world does it mean? CROW: For God's sake.... > What factory?" JOEL: The old one. >"That's just what we've got to find out," decided Ned. >"Where did you get this?" he asked the farmer's boy. CROW: [boy] The old factory. >"Way off over there," and he pointed across miles of >fields. "I was lookin' for a lost cow, and I went past an >old factory. There wasn't nobody in the place, as far as I >knowed, TOM: Translation; it was bursting with German spies! > but all at once I heard some one yell, and then I >seen something white, like a bird, sail out of a high >window. I was scared for a minute, thinkin' it might be >tramps after me." TOM: Gramps? JOEL: Not quite, Tommy. CROW: So tramps fly out of windows, like birds? >"And what did you do, Sonny?" asked Mr. Damon, as the boy >paused. CROW: [boy] I made a few chart-toppers with Cher. >"Well, after a while I went to where the white thing lay, >and I picked it up. JOEL: [Ned] You'd better wash your hands. > I seen it was a piece of paper, with >writin' on it, and it was wrapped around part of a brick." > >"And did you go near the factory to find out who called or >who threw the paper out?" Ned queried. CROW: Ned draws out the boy.... >"I didn't," the boy answered. "I was scared. I went home, >and didn't even start to find the lost cow. TOM: Poor ol' bovine, lost, alone, with rumors of a tank roaming wild in the fields. >"No more he did," chimed in the farmer. "He come runnin' >in like a whitehead, ALL: Ewww.... > and as soon as I saw the paper and >heard what Bub, ALL: Bub? > had to say, I thought maybe I'd better do >somethin'." JOEL: Well, it's more than Ned or Mr. Damon can say. >"Did you go to the factory?" asked Ned eagerly. CROW: [Ned] I heard it's really cool! >"No. I thought the best thing to do would be to find this >Mr. Swift, or the other folks mentioned in this letter. JOEL: Ah, good. Since we know the bad guys forge letters, the note might easily be a trap. > I >knowed, in a general way, where Shopton was, but I'd never >been there, TOM: [farmer] Knowin' that the place drains yer intelligence. > doing my tradin' in the other direction, and so >I had to stop and ask the road. JOEL: [farmer] But the dang thing never replied. > If you can tell me--" CROW: [farmer] Is that the Chattanooga Choo-choo? >"We're two of the persons spoken of in that note," said >Mr. Damon, as he mentioned his name and introduced Ned. TOM: [Ned] Pleased to meet you Mr. Damon. > "We >have been looking for our friend Tom Swift for two days now. CROW: [Mr. Damon] Except during lunch, of course. JOEL: [Ned] And when we were trying to think. >We must find him at once, as there is no telling what he may >be suffering." TOM: [Tom Swift] Thank God I was captured, and haven't had to endure the mind-numbing yammering of that inbred local Ned or Damon's numerous mental instabilities. >"Where is this old factory you speak of," continued Mr. >Damon, "and how can we get there? It's too bad one of you >didn't go back, after finding the note, to tell Tom he was >soon to be rescued." JOEL: At least they got off their butts and did something right away instead of talking about it for hours, buddy. >"Waal, maybe it is," said the farmer, a bit put out by the >criticism. CROW: As well he should be. > "But I figgered it would be better to look up this >young man's friends and let them do the rescuin', and not >lose no time, 'specially as it's about as far from my place >to the factory as it is to Shopton." TOM: You can tell he's not a resident of Shopton because he acted logically. >"Well, I suppose that's so," agreed Ned. "But what is this >factory?" CROW: [Ned] I've never heard of such a thing before. >"It's an old one where they started to make beet sugar, TOM: [Coleman Francis] That's mighty good beet sugar.... >but it didn't pan out," the farmer said. JOEL: [farmer] After someone drove a tank through it. > "The place is in >ruins, and I did hear, not long ago, that somebody run a >threshin' machine through it, an' busted it up worse than >before." CROW: [farmer] I tell ya the youth of today is jus' a bunch of no-good slackers! JOEL: What are the odds this farmer just happens to run into Tom's friends? Wouldn't it be kind of cool if the farmer was suspicious of Ned and Mr. Damon and thought they were the kidnappers trying to fool him? TOM: Joel, this is Appleton, not Conan Doyle. >"Great horned toads!" cried Ned. JOEL: Which is about as close to swearing as he ever comes. > "That must be the very >factory Tom ran his tank through. And to think he should be >a prisoner there!" TOM: I'd almost claim it irony, but I'm betting the German spies just couldn't think of any other place to put him. CROW: Good -- maybe we lucked out and they stuffed him in the safe. >"Held by whom, do you suppose?" asked Mr. Damon. JOEL: German spies, maybe? >"By that Blakeson gang, I imagine," Ned answered. CROW: [Ned] Shopton has never been at war with Andy Foger. Shopton has always been at war with Blakeson. > "There's >no time to lose. We must go to his rescue!" TOM: Read, "in a few hours." >"Of course!" agreed Mr. Damon. "We're much obliged to you >for bringing this note," he went on to the farmer. "And here >is something to repay you for your trouble," and he took out >his wallet JOEL: [Mr. Damon] Here's a photo of my wife in the tub. >"Shucks! I didn't do this for pay!" objected the farmer. >"It's a pity I wouldn't help anybody what's in trouble! If >I'd a-knowed what it meant, TOM: Wait. Didn't the note actually *ask* the reader to go get his friends in the first place? > me and Bub here would have gone >to the factory ourselves, maybe, and done the work quicker. CROW: [farmer] I was known as "Neck-Snapper Neil" in the Union Army. >But I didn't know--what with war times and such-like--but >that it would be better to deliver the note." TOM: Can't really blame him with all the tanks and German spies running around. >"It turns out as well, perhaps," agreed Ned. "We'll look >after Tom now." JOEL: So he's as good as dead. >"And I'll come along and help," said the farmer. "If >there's a gang of tramps in that factory, you may need some >reinforcements. TOM: [farmer] My cows will hold the front line while my overwhelming B.O. covers our right flank. JOEL: And telling the police is still out of the question. > I've got a couple of new axe handles in my >machine, and they'll come in mighty handy as clubs." JOEL: Just like Clint Eastwood in "Pale Rider." CROW: [farmer] Used 'em earlier this week to bludgeon some bankers into motionless piles of flesh. >"That's so," said Mr. Damon. "But I fancy Tom is simply >locked in the deserted factory office, with no one on guard. JOEL: [farmer] Yeah, I suppose it's not like he's a brilliant engineer who designed a new tank for the Allies or anythin'. >We can get him out once we get there, and we'll be glad to >have you come with us. CROW: He's just worried that Kanker will show up again. > So if you won't take any reward, >maybe your boy will, as he found the note," and Mr. Damon >pressed some bills into the hands of the boy, who, it is >needless to say, JOEL: [Appleton] But I never let that stop me before. > was glad to get them. TOM: He had been wanting to go get the latest Tom Swift novel for some time now. JOEL: Meanwhile, back on the Swift plant, Eradicate and Koku had undergone a change since their Master had been away.... TOM: [Eradicate] I disagree -- even given Rossini's questionable reusage of material from his earlier operas, "The Barber of Seville" is one of the greatest Opera Buffas ever written; even the renowned Verdi himself said as much. CROW: [Koku] True, my friend, but I still think you're downplaying Mozart's "Don Giovanni" too much -- that raised the level of Opera Buffas to unknown levels which Verdi himself only matched with "Falstaff," some eighty years later. >It was a run of several miles hack to the deserted >factory, JOEL: [Mr. Damon] Maybe [pant] we should have [pant] taken the car? > and though they passed houses on the way, it was >decided that no addition to their force was necessary, CROW: Great strike force -- two old men, a banker who has trouble climbing trees, and a young boy. >though they did stop at a blacksmith shop, where they >borrowed a heavy sledge to batter down a door if such action >should be needed. TOM: Which aroused no suspicions on the part of the blacksmith. >The farmer's rattletrap of a car, in spite of its >appearance, CROW: Was actually a boat. > was not far behind Ned's runabout, and in a >comparatively short time all were within sight of the ruined >place-- TOM: Any frat house after a party. > a ruin made more complete by the passage through it >of Tom Swift's war tank. JOEL: That'd do it, all right. >"And to think of his being there all this while!" >exclaimed Mr. Damon, as he and Ned leaped from their >machine. TOM: This is almost the 1918 version of Waco. >"If he only is there!" murmured the young bank clerk. > >"What do you mean? Didn't the note he threw out say he was >there?" JOEL: Yes, but that was just a decoy to any guards who might be around. >"Yes, but something may have happened in the meanwhile. TOM: Nah, Appleton wouldn't miss a chance to write himself another paycheck. >Those plotters, if they'd do a thing like this, are capable >of anything. CROW: [Ned] Lying, even. > They may have kidnapped Tom again." JOEL: Metakidnapping? What? CROW: Ned has said some dumb things before, but this.... >"Anyway, we'll soon find out," murmured Ned, as they >advanced toward the ruin, CROW: [Hun Spy] Just shoot them in the knees first; let them linger. > Mr. Damon and the farmer each >armed with an axe helve, while Ned carried the blacksmith's >sledge. TOM: The boy got wise and decided to go look for that lost cow. CROW: Sure; he already got paid. >They went into the end of the factory that was less ruined >than the central part, JOEL: Tell where that is again, Mr. Appleton? > where the tank had crashed through, JOEL: Ah, thanks. >and made their way into what had been the office--the place >where they had found the burned scraps of paper. JOEL: One of Appleton's many ingenious red herrings. >"Hark!" exclaimed Ned, CROW: [Ned] The Herald Angels Sing! TOM: Scratch the element of surprise. > as they climbed up >the broken steps. "I heard a noise." CROW: [Ned] Oh, wait -- that was me going, 'Hark!' >"It's him yellin'--like he did afore he threw out the >note," said the boy. Then, as they listened, they heard a >distant voice calling: TOM: [voice] Ah, vould you valk a bit closer to der vall, by der 'X'? >"Hello! Hello, there! If that is any friend of mine, let >me out, or send word to Mr. Damon or Ned Newton! Hello!" TOM: [Tom Swift] If it's a guard or anything, pretend you didn't hear this! >"Hello yourself, Tom Swift!" yelled Ned, too delighted to >wait for any other confirmation that it was his friend who >was shouting. CROW: Ned is like that guy who keeps forwarding you those e-mails about banning dihydrogen monoxide. > "We've come to rescue you, Tom!" JOEL: [Tom Swift] Why are you punishing me, God?! >There was a moment of silence, and then a voice asked: > >"Who is there?" TOM: [Tom Swift] If it's a German spy, go away! >"Ned Newton, Mr. Damon, and some other friends of yours!" >answered the young bank clerk, for surely the farmer and his >son could be called Tom's friends. CROW: Because only the vile Boche wouldn't be honored to be counted among Tom's friends. >An indistinguishable answer came back, TOM: [Tom Swift] Damn, I was hoping they would have been gunned down by the guards. > and then Ned cried: JOEL: Being the fem that he is. >"Where are you, Tom? Tell us, so we can get you out!" CROW: [Ned] I need you! >They all listened, and faintly heard: > >"I'm in some sort of an old vault, partly underground. JOEL: [Tom Swift] It's airtight, but I managed to make an Oxygen Machine while I was waiting. >It's below what used to be the office. There's a flight of >steps, but be careful, as they're rotten." TOM: Must have been made in Germany. >Eagerly they looked around Mr. Damon saw a door in one >corner of the office, and tried to open it. It was locked, >but a few blows from the sledge smashed it, JOEL: [farmer] Atta' boy, son, show 'em wimp city slickers what real men can do. > and then some >steps were revealed. > >Down these, using due caution, went Ned and the others, CROW: Their combined weight collapsing the wood and sending them crashing down to impact their brains. TOM: Ned, of course, was unaffected. >and at the bottom they came upon another door. JOEL: It opened into a 10' x 10' room; there was an orc guarding a chest-- > This was of >sheet iron and was fastened on the outside by a big padlock. > >"Stand back!" cried Ned, as he swung the sledge, TOM: *POW!* JOEL: [Mr. Damon] Uuuuhh! [thunk] CROW: [Ned] Sorry. > and with >a few blows broke the lock to pieces. TOM: Good thing it was ceramic or Ned might have had a time of it. >Then they pulled open the door, JOEL: [Ned] Whew-- that stinks! CROW: [Mr. Damon] God, shut the door! > and into the light TOM: Starring Geegaw Hackwrench. >staggered Tom Swift, a most woe-begone figure, and showing >the effects of his imprisonment. CROW: Two days without food, water, or trips to the bathroom will generally show, yes. > But he was safe and >unharmed, though much disheveled from his attempts to >escape. JOEL: He had tried gnawing through the iron door for the whole first day. >"Thank Heaven, you've come!" he murmured, as he clasped >Ned's hand. "Is the tank all right?" > >"All right!" cried Ned. CROW: [Ned] It's been worried sick over you! > "And now tell us about yourself. TOM: [Tom Swift] Well, I'm an inventor, as was my father before me-- >How in the world did you get here?" > >"It's quite a yarn," answered Tom. JOEL: Appleton cranks up the typewriter. > "I've got to pull >myself together before I answer," and he sank wearily down >on a step, looking very haggard and worn. TOM: [Tom Swift] Goodbye, peace and quiet. CROW: Speaking of goodbyes, let's go. [1....2....3....4....5....6....SoL] [TOM and CROW are behind the counter, looking at maps of the world, which are spread out before them.] CROW: See, look at this -- Germany is taking up all the space between Italy and Poland. If we just got rid of it, travel time across Europe would be reduced immensely. TOM: No doubt, my friend. The sooner Germany is dusted like a mob stool pigeon, the sooner we can all breath a little easier. [JOEL enters with coffee mug in hand.] JOEL: Hey guys. Planning world dominion over ring-tailed lemurs and pocket calculators again? CROW: Even better, Joel -- Tom and I are preparing to rid the world of an age-old evil dating back to the ancient times of the wandering uteruses and pre-digital cable! JOEL: You're not going after the Blondie comic strip again, are you? TOM: [chuckling evilly] Hah! Our goal is much loftier than such trivial fare, my pheromone-emitting biped creator! No, for we have set out computer- guided laser sights on the fatherland itself! JOEL: Minnesota? CROW: Germany! And all the vile Boche still lurking about within. JOEL: [sighing] I had hoped you two had gotten over this by now. Do I have to start removing your cyclical-cynical platforms again? CROW: Oh, come *on* Joel! Just because you are probably descended from the worst stock ever produced by the misbegotten human race doesn't mean you have to defend them! JOEL: Seriously guys, Germany has a lot of good points. TOM: That's what they all say, *Herr* Robinson.... CROW: Yeah, name one! JOEL: Well, music, for starters. I mean, it's the homeland of Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms. TOM: Big whup. JOEL: And Kraftwerk. TOM: [subdued] ...oh. JOEL: [to himself] ...I think. CROW: Well, okay, fine, but that was years ago -- what have they do recently, huh? JOEL: Well, their unions are actually very highly regarded. CROW: ...really? JOEL: Sure. Something like 80% of Germany is unionized, and they do a good job of keeping things running smoothly between labor and management, and train the employees to keep them up to date, and all that. They make darn good cars, too. And besides -- Crow, your eyes came from Germany. [CROW is taken aback, then seems to settle a bit.] CROW: Well, they work fairly good, yeah.... TOM: [sulking] So isn't there *any* reason to destroy Germany? JOEL: [shaking his head] Sorry boys. But maybe in a little while. BOTS: [brightening] Really? JOEL: You bet. See, there's this one guy I don't like who might be going over there sometime soon-- [JOEL's mild expression of thirst for vengeance is cut off by the red light starting to flash. Curious, he taps it and gazes into the camera with the Bots.] JOEL: Sirs? [GIZMONICS] [The place is a mess; scattered about are green labcoats, Abe Vigodas, and, of course, Frank's old heads. DR. FORRESTER is ransacking a drawer, overturning it while muttering to himself. Various sealed plastic bags marked "ANGSTFICS: DO NOT TOUCH!" spill forth. Of course, one of them breaks open, unnoticed by DR. FORRESTER who looks up at the camera.] DR. F: Ah -- Those Rejected From the Muppet Show. Say, boobies, you haven't seen what I did with my tank keys, have you? [SoL] JOEL: No sir, can't say as we have. CROW: Wait -- when did he get a tank? [GIZMONICS] [DR. FORRESTER chuckles and steps to the camera; behind him, the unsealed bag is leaking a rather ominous stream of black smoke.] DR. F: Yes, well, unlike Tom Swift, I can keep a secret from my friends. [SoL] TOM: You have friends? [GIZMONICS] DR. F: [testily] I will when I get my credit card balance under control, so lay off! [calming down] Anyhoo, I was inspired by this story to take the tank out for a spin around town, and then through it, but now I can't find my keys anywhere. I checked all my pockets, searched my wardrobe, and even made all the lab animals regurgitate their breakfast, but to no avail. [SoL] TOM: Tsk, tsk. Looks like another attack of the tank key sprites. Probably whisked them away to Marty's Used Tank Emporium in Shangri-La to be copied. CROW: Yep; probably be cheaper for you to just build a new tank. TOM: Don't forget the... "grippers," if you know what I mean. JOEL: Hey, hold it guys, maybe he just left them in the tank? [GIZMONICS] [The black smoke is thick by now, and apparently acrid, as DR. FORRESTER's eyeglasses seem to be melting, and his skin looks rather pale. Oddly, this change doesn't seem to strike his notice.] DR. F: Ah! You could very well be right -- let me check the garage; back in a mo'. [SoL] JOEL: Uh, did anyone else notice that Dr. Forrester seems to be disintegrating? CROW: Ssh. Don't tell him -- I want to see this. [GIZMONICS] DR. F: [O.S.] Well this is odd.... [He walks back on camera, looking more and more like Riff-Raff from "Rocky Horror" every minute. He's reading a note.] DR. F: [reading] Dear Clayton, by the time you read this note, I'll be gone. It's okay -- life goes on. I've taken the tank for my driving lesson. Don't worry, I'll fill the "tank" before I come home. Joke, ha-ha. Don't wait up, and don't touch those raisin cookies until they cool. Love, Frank. [He scowls, then starts as the paper bursts into flames. He drops it and stamps it out, and then it dawns on him that something's not quite right with the air in the room.] DR. F: What the... oh, great, one of next season's fic's must've slipped out of its package, and before it's even ripe, no less. Phew. From the pungent stench of angst, must have been written by that dork in the hat.... [SoL] [JOEL and the Bots sadly shake their heads.] TOM: I hate it when you see the torture implement to be used against you. JOEL: It's why I was always scared of the dentist, little pal. [The Commercial sign flashes, and JOEL responsively swats it.] [Bumper] >Chapter XXIII > >Gone [The SoL trio enter and take their seats in the theater.] >"Here, eat some of this," and Ned held something out to >his chum. JOEL: [Ned] Hurry; it's trying to get away. > "It'll bring you up quicker than anything else, >except a cup of hot tea, CROW: [Ned] Laced with crystal meth. > and we'll get that as soon as you >can get away from here," went on the young bank clerk. > >"What is it?" Tom asked, and his voice was very weary. TOM: Timothy? >"It's a mixture of chocolate and nuts," replied Ned. "It's >a new form of emergency ration issued to soldiers before >they go over the top. CROW: With Sylvester Stallone. > Our Y.M.C.A. is sending a lot to the >boys from around here who are in France. I was helping pack >the boxes ready for shipment, and I kept out some to show >you. CROW: [Ned] I know you've never seen chocolate before. > Lucky I had it with me. TOM: Joel, is it fair to say that Appleton is the precursor to most fanfic authors? > Eat it, CROW: [singing] Just eat it! > and you'll feel a lot >better in a few minutes. You haven't had much to eat, have >you?" TOM: [Tom Swift] Besides dirt and my left pinky, no. >"Very little," answered Tom, as he nibbled half-heartedly >at the confection Ned gave him. while Mr. Damon went out to >the automobile and came back with a thermos bottle filled >with cool water. He always provided himself with this on >taking an automobile trip. JOEL: Any moment now, the farmer's going to mix in the sugar and salt he always carries with him in case he becomes dehydrated. TOM: No, he happened to be carrying axe handles, remember? CROW: Once you leave the door open, those plot conveniences just don't stop coming in. >Tom managed to eat some of the chocolate, and then took a >drink of the cool water. In a little while he declared that >he felt better. CROW: Good thing German spies have better things to do rather than check up on this prominent inventor and engineer of the Allies. JOEL: Here's a puzzler for you guys; who's been more inane in this tale: Ned or the German spies? TOM: ...wow. Good one. >"Then come out of here!" exclaimed Ned. "You can tell tis >how it all happened and what they did to you. But I can see >that last--they treated you like a dog, didn't they?" CROW: [Ned] Your coat is very glossy. >"Pretty nearly," answered Tom; "but they didn't have >things all their own way. I think I made one or two of them >remember me," JOEL: [Mr. Damon] Gave them your business card, did you? > and he glanced at his swollen and bruised >hands. Indeed, he bore the marks of having been in a fierce >fight. TOM: Aside from the complete lack of any bruises or abrasions about his head and body. >"Are you sure the tank's all right?" he asked Ned again. TOM: [Tom Swift] She had a fever last I checked. >"That has been worrying me more than my own condition. CROW: I swear, I'll never read another Mary Sue character without thinking about Tom Swift for the rest of my life. TOM: You poor soul. I >could think of only one reason why they got me here and held >me prisoner, JOEL: I can think of plenty. > and that was to get me out of the way while >they captured my tank. CROW: Digging a hole in the ground and then hanging a can of oil over it.... > Then they haven't got her?" he asked >eagerly. > >"Not a look at her," Ned answered. "She was safe in the >shop when we set out this morning." > >"And now it's late afternoon," murmured Tom. CROW: [Ned] Wow, Tom, you're right! You're so brainy! JOEL: [Mr. Damon] Bless my varicose veins, but you're our best hope in this war, Tom! TOM: [farmer] I just met you and already I want to use this ax handle. > "Well, I hope >nothing has happened since," and there was vague alarm in >his voice, an alarm at which Ned and Mr. Damon wondered. CROW: Logic futilely toiling away to gain entry into their minds. >"Couldn't you stop at some farmhouse and get fixed up a >little?" asked Mr. Kimball, the farmer who had brought the >note to Ned and Mr. Damon. TOM: Hey, he gets a name! He really must be a friend of Tom's, now. >"I need to get fixed up somewhere," replied Tom, CROW: [Tom Swift] I got a nasty scare when Mary was ten days late-- > with a >rueful look at himself--his hands, his torn clothes, and his >general dilapidated appearance. JOEL: He's ready for the Seattle grunge scene. > "But I don't want to lose >any time. I'm afraid something has happened at home, Ned." TOM: [Tom Swift] I just realized I haven't seen mother for years. >"Nonsense! How could there, with Koka on guard, to say >nothing of Eradicate!" JOEL: Well, Eradicate has gotten the admiration of Ned, but I'm not sure if that's really worth anything. >"Well, maybe you're right," agreed Tom; "but I'll feel >better when I see my tank in her shed. Let's have some more >of that concentrated porterhouse steak of yours, Ned. CROW: Ned blushed a deep red. > It is >good, and it fills out my stomach, which was getting more >intimate with my backbone than I liked to feel." CROW: That's more than we needed to know, thanks. >More of the really good confection JOEL: [Appleton] I'll just remind the readers that doughboys lucky enough to be sent into German machine guns get a chocolate bar for free. > and another drink of >refreshing water made Tom feel better, and he was soon able >to walk along without staggering from weakness. JOEL: If he has some sort of mutant healing factor I'll-- >"And now let's get out of here," advised Ned, "unless >you've left something back in that vault you want, Tom," and >he motioned to his chum's late prison. TOM: [Tom Swift] Nah. Who needs teeth? >"Nothing there but bad memories," was the reply, with a >rueful smile. "I'm as ready to go as you are, Ned. It was >good of you and Mr. Damon to come for me, CROW: [Tom Swift] Usually my friends wait about two weeks before starting to look for me. I really should move to a new town. > and you" TOM: [Tom Swift] Cowardly lion, step forward! > -- and he >looked questioningly at Mr. Kimball. TOM: [Tom Swift] You're not related to Kanker, are you? >"If it hadn't been for Mr. Kimball and his boy, we >wouldn't have found you--at least so soon," said Ned, CROW: Good thing Mr. Kimball wears a nametag so Ned knew the man's name without ever asking. > and he >told of the finding of the note and what had followed. >"That's the only way I could think of for getting help," >said Tom. TOM: [Tom Swift] Well, I tried smoke signals first, but kept passing out. > "They took every scrap of paper from me, but I >found some in the lining of my hat CROW: Since when did he wear a hat? > --some I'd stuffed in >after I had a hair cut and my hat was too large. JOEL: The German spies didn't search it, because everyone knows nobody ever hides anything under their hat. CROW: I don't believe anyone makes a hat too large for Tom's head. TOM: Must've been a sidehacker cap. > For a >pencil I used burnt matches. TOM: [Tom Swift] I always carry some in my Extra-Dimensional Pocket that I had sewn into my left sock. JOEL: And the forecast is calling for a sudden squall of plot conveniences-- > Oh, but I'm glad to be out!" >and he breathed deep of the fresh air. TOM: Inadvertently startling a nearby skunk. >"How did you get in there?" asked Ned wonderingly. CROW: Dear God. TOM: [Tom Swift] I walked in and accidentally shut the door behind me and locked it from the other side. Ned, you are an embarrassment to everything with a brain stem. >"Those fellows--of course. ALL: Duh, Ned. > The German plotters, I'm going >to call them, TOM: This is from the same mind that named the Hawk, remember. > for I believe that Blakeson and his gang-- >though I didn't see him JOEL: [bursting] THEN HOW DO YOU KNOW HE'S EVEN REMOTELY INVOLVED?! CROW: Whoa, easy Joel! > --are really working in the interests >of Germany to get the secret of my tank." CROW: A shaky suspicion, at best. >"Well, they haven't got her yet," said Ned. "and they're >not likely to now. Go on, Tom, if you feel able tell us in a >few words what happened. TOM: Not possible as long as Appleton is writing. > We've been trying to think, but >can't." [Much laughing.] CROW: Folks, we'll leave this prime cut for you. >"Well, it all happened because I didn't think enough," >said Tom, who was rapidly recovering his strength and nerve. JOEL: Once again surrounded by his inferiors. >"When I got that message that seemed to come from you, Ned, >I should have known better than to take a chance. But it >seemed genuine, and as I had no reason to suspect a trap, I >started off at once. TOM: [Tom Swift] It's not like we've had a sudden influx of German spies or anything. > I thought maybe Kanker had repented and >was going to make amends for all the trouble he caused. CROW: Excuse me? You were the one who leveled his barn. >"Anyhow, I started off in my machine, and I hadn't got >more than to the crossroads when I saw a fellow out >tinkering with his auto. TOM: [Tom Swift] He was trying to unwrap it from a tree. > Of course I stopped to ask if I >could help, for I can't bear to see any machinery out of >order, CROW: Like all good engineers, Tom doesn't give a damn about human life. > and as I was stooping over the engine to see what was >wrong I was pounced on from behind, bound and tied, CROW: [Ned] Oh, so Mary was there? TOM: [Tom Swift] And, expecting a romantic evening... > and >before I could do a thing I was bundled into the car--a big >limousine, JOEL: Kind of an odd detail to add. > and taken away. TOM: [singing] To the funny farm! Where life is beautiful all the time! >"The crossroads was as far as we could trace you," >remarked Ned. CROW: [Ned] So we gave up. >"Well, it wasn't as far as they took me, by any means," >Tom said. "They brought me here, took me out of the machine- >-and I noticed that they'd brought mine along JOEL: Desperately hoping it had a secret stash of sauerkraut. > --and then they >carted me into the vault. TOM: [Tom Swift] I'm so used to people carrying me around on their shoulders that I realized too late that they weren't praising my genius. >"But they didn't have it all their own way," said Tom >grimly. CROW: You just keep telling yourself that, Tom. > "I managed to get the ropes loose, and I had a >regular knock down and drag out with them for a while. TOM: In a scene so exciting that "paid-by-the-word" Appleton didn't see it worth writing. > But >they were too many for me, JOEL: Read, "one." TOM: And it was a girl. CROW: With polio. > and locked me up in that place >after taking away everything I had in my pockets." > >"Were they highwaymen?" asked Mr. Kimball. JOEL: [Kimball] Did they come tap-tap-tapping on your window at night? >"No, for they tossed back my money, TOM: [Tom Swift] I guess spies don't need money. > watch and some trifles >like that," Tom answered. TOM: [Tom Swift] My hat. Burnt matches. You know. > "I didn't recognize any of the >men, though one of them must have known me, CROW: Is there anyone in the world who *doesn't* know you, Tom? > for when they >had me tied I heard one of them ask if I was the right >party, and another said I was. TOM: [Tom Swift] Then he said "Party on, party people." > I know they must belong to >the same gang that Simpson, Blakeson, and Schwen are members >of--the German spies." TOM: [Tom Swift] The friendly little earthworms in my cell told me, along with their plan to steal Oklahoma. >"But what was their object?" asked Ned. "Did they try to >force you to tell them the secrets of the tank?" > >"No; and that's the funny part which makes me so >suspicious," Tom answered. TOM: [Tom Swift] Having been kidnapped by German spies dozens of times, I know how the pattern is supposed to work. > "If they'd tried to force >something out of me, I would understand it better. CROW: [Tom Swift] And enjoy it more. > But they >just kept me a prisoner after taking away what papers I >had." TOM: I'm actually surprised we haven't had a German demanding "Vhere are your papers?!" JOEL: That really came from World War II. >"Were they of any value?" asked Mr. Damon. > >"Not as regards the tank. That is, there was nothing of my >plans of construction, control or anything like that, though >there was some foreign correspondence that I am sorry fell >into their hands. TOM: [Tom Swift] My pen-pal in Zaire won't get a reply for a while, now. > However, that can't he helped." > >"And did they just keep you locked up?" asked Ned. TOM: [Tom Swift] No, they killed me and you're talking to my Ka. Moron. >"That's about all they did. After the fight--and it was >some fight!" declared Tom, CROW: I'm sensing that Tom is trying to compensate for something, here. > as he recalled it with a shake of >his head--"they left me here with the door shut. There must >have been some one on guard, for I could faintly hear >somebody moving about. TOM: [Tom Swift] So it must have been Blakeson! >"I tried to get out, of course, but I couldn't. That vault >must have been made to hold something very valuable, CROW: Most vaults are, yes. > for it >was almost as strong and solid as one in your bank, Ned. JOEL: Ned has often locked Tom in his bank's vault. It's a little game they play. >The only window was placed so high that I couldn't reach >it, and it was barred at that. [TOM snorts.] TOM: A vault built to hold something so valuable that they put a window in it. Right. >"They opened the door a little, several times, to toss in >once some old bags that I made into a bed, JOEL: MacGyver would be sooooo jealous. > and next they >gave me a little water and some sandwiches--German bologna >sausage sandwiches, Ned! TOM: Bastards! CROW: Joel, do Germans only eat German food? JOEL: If they're dumb enough to fall for sauerkraut traps, then I'd wager yes. > What do you think of that--adding >insult to injury?" CROW: Makes me wish I was there to point and laugh. >"That was tough!" Ned admitted. TOM: [Ned] The fiends actually fed you rather than let you starve! >"Well, I had to put up with it, CROW: Being fed? JOEL: We'd just like to apologize for this to anyone who has ever been captured by the enemy during wartime, and their families. > for I was half starved, >and as sore as a JOEL: Kanker? > boil from the fight. TOM: [Tom Swift] Have I mentioned what a fight it was? Let me restate that. CROW: [Tom Swift] After she hit me with the edge of her lollipop, she -- > I didn't know what to >do. I knew that you'd miss me sooner or later, CROW: Turning out to be "later." > and set out >to find me, but I hardly thought you'd think of this place. TOM: [Tom Swift] It being as obvious as the nose on your face. >They couldn't have picked out a much better prison to hold >me, for, naturally, you wouldn't suppose enough of it was >left standing, after my tank had walked through it, to make >a hiding place. JOEL: Never mind the fact that Ned had been in the office after the tank test run, anyway. We are, after all, talking about the same man who found a stranger spying on Tom's plant and didn't find it more than slightly curious. >"However, there was, and here I've been kept. At last I >thought of the plan of sending out a message on the scrap of >paper I could tear out of my hat. So I wrote it, and after >several trials I managed to toss it out of the window. CROW: [Mr. Kimball] So you fibbed about hearing shouts for help, boy?! TOM: [boy] I'm sorry paw!! Don't make me bathe mother again! > Then >I just had to wait, and that was the hardest of all. JOEL: [Tom Swift] Normally everyone breaks their neck trying to service me instantly. > The >last twelve hours I've been without food, and I haven't >heard any one around, so I guess they've skipped out and >don't intend to come back." TOM: Okay, let's review; the German spies, through some act of God, manage to actually lure Tom out into the open, kidnap him, and then throw him in a vault. They take his papers, but after seeing that none deal with the tank, they don't question him about the tank's capabilities. They feed him, don't hurt him, and eventually just wander off into la-la land. JOEL: That about sums it up, buddy. CROW: Then there can't be a war going on with the Germans involved. They're too incompetent. The Allies must be accidentally fighting themselves. >"We didn't see any one," Ned reported. "Maybe they became >frightened, Tom." CROW: Of what? >"I wish I could think that," was the answer. "What is more >likely to be the case is that they're up to some new tricks. JOEL: Rolling over and playing dead. >I must get back home quickly." > >And after a stop had been made at a farmhouse belonging to >a business acquaintance of Ned's, TOM: [Tom Swift] I said, "I must get back home quickly...." > where Tom was able to wash >and get a cup of hot tea, which added to his recuperative >powers, the young inventor, with Ned and Mr. Damon, set out >for Shopton. TOM: Don't bother to call ahead or anything to see if anything's happened. >Before Mr. Kimball started for his home, renewed thanks >had been made to the farmer and his son for the part they >had played in the rescue, and the young inventor, learning >that the boy had a liking for things mechanical, promised to >aid him in his intention to become a machinist TOM: [Tom Swift] Remind me to tell father we found more grist for the child labor market. >"But first get a good education," Tom advised. CROW: Tom Swift -- secret screenwriter for "Why Study Industrial Arts?" > "Keep on >with your school work, JOEL: [boy] But someone drove a tank through the school last week! [sobs] > and when the time comes I'll take you >into my shop." CROW: That sounds ominous. >"And maybe he'll make a tank that will rival yours, Tom," >said Ned. JOEL: Tom slapped him. >"Maybe he will! I hope he does. TOM: [Tom Swift] Then I can steal it. > If he comes along fast >enough, he can help with something else I'm going to start >soon." CROW: [Tom Swift] Puberty. >"Whats that?" asked Mr. Damon. TOM: I can see him asking this. >"Oh, it's something on the same order, designed to help >batter down the German lines," Tom answered. "I haven't >quite made up my mind what to call it yet. JOEL: Tom's a master of secrecy. TOM: [Tom Swift] I'll know once Appleton names the book. > But let's get >home. I want to see that my tank Is safe. The absence of the >plotters from the JOEL: Story. > factory makes me suspicious." > >On the way back Tom told more of the details of the >attack. TOM: [Tom Swift] But they didn't have it all their way, by gum! CROW: [Ned] Wow, Tom! I'm so glad I've got you to brownnose! >"But we'll forget about it all, now you're out," remarked >Ned. CROW: Well, it really didn't sound any worse than a weekend camping trip in the first place. >"And the sooner we get home, the better," >added Tom. "Can't you get a little more speed out of this >machine?" he asked. TOM: Back in power, Tom sees no need to be polite. >"Well, it isn't the Hawk," replied Ned, "but we'll see >what we can do," and he made the runabout fairly fly. JOEL: By driving it off a cliff. >Mrs. Baggert was the first to greet Tom as they arrived at >his home. She did not seem as surprised as either Tom, Ned >or Mr. Damon expected her to be. CROW: She seemed disappointed, in fact. >"Well, I'm glad you're all right," she said. "And it's a >good thing you sent that note, TOM: [Penfold] Cor, how much? > for your father was so >excited and worried I was getting apprehensive about him." JOEL: [Gadget] So I locked him up in solitary confinement. >"What note?" asked Tom, CROW: The perfect A natural that you tuned your violin to way back in chapter 2. > while a queer look came into his >face. > >"Why, the one you sent saying you were detained on >business and would probably not be home for a week, and to >have Koku and the men bring the tank to you." CROW: Hello? The tank that only Tom knew how to drive? >"Bring the tank! A note from me!" exclaimed Tom. TOM: Everyone, sing along! > "The >plotters again! And they've got the tank!" TOM: [Tom Swift] Eradicate! Why didn't you point out that the note might be forged? JOEL: [Eradicate, tonelessly] I've been busy sweepin' the yard. Remember? >He ran to the big shop followed by the others. Throwing >open the doors, they went inside. A glance sufficed to >disclose the worst. CROW: The police had finally shut the strip club down. >The place where the great tank had stood was empty. > >"Gone!" gasped Tom. TOM: I hate to say this, but how hard can it be to track the only tank on the East Coast? >Chapter XXIV > >Camouflaged JOEL: Appleton remains the master of not showing his hand to the reader. >Two utterances Tom Swift made when the fact of the >disappearance of the tank became known to him were >characteristic of the young inventor. JOEL: They made his friend's ears burn. > The first was: TOM: [Tom Swift] That idiotic, moronic, sub-humanoid Koku! I take him away from his home, never to see his family or friends again, and that seven foot tall slab of beef can't even figure out a German plot that fooled me! >"How did they get it away?" > >And the second was: TOM: [Tom Swift] How come nobody ever replies to my posts? >"Come on, let's get after 'em!" > >Then, for a few moments, no one said anything. JOEL: The moment had passed. > Tom, Ned, >and Mr. Damon, with Mrs. Baggert in the background, CROW: Where the woman should always be. > stood >looking at the great empty machine shop. TOM: [Tom Swift] Hey, let's get a duck and see if it's quack echoes in here! >"Well, they got her," went on Tom, with a sigh. CROW: [Ned] Got who, Tom? > "I was >afraid of this as soon as they left me alone at the >factory." JOEL: [Tom Swift] Something's terribly wrong when I'm not the center of attention. >"Is anything wrong?" faltered the housekeeper. "Didn't you >send for the tank, Tom?" [Everyone sighs.] TOM: Joel, how did the Allies win the war if this was the gene pool soldiers were drafted from? JOEL: Well, remember that the Germans aren't as bright as the Americans. >"No, Mrs. Baggert, I didn't," Tom answered. > >"But I don't understand," the housekeeper said. "A man >came with a note from you, Tom, and in it you said to have >him take the tank, with Koku and the men who know how to run >it. CROW: Why include Koku? TOM: Because they already found out they can't trick Eradicate. JOEL: Because they knew there would be a vicious hand to hand fight to take the tank, and they wanted to make sure that Tom's inhumanly powerful, loyal, and ferocious man-killing bodyguard was there to fight them. TOM: Huh? > We were so glad to hear from you, and know that you were >all right, that we didn't think of anything else, your >father and I. CROW: [Mrs. Baggert] It wasn't like the exact same sort of plot had been used to get you out of the house... oh, I guess I'd better shut up now. > So he went out and saw that the tank got off >all right. JOEL: Who was driving this thing? And how come whoever it is seems to be driving it better than Tom ever did? > Koku was glad, for it's the first chance he'd had >to ride in it." CROW: [Koku] WHEEEEEEE!!! >"Who was the man who brought the note?" asked Tom, and he >was striving to be calm. TOM: [Tom Swift] Stupid female servant-- > "To think of poor old dad playing >right into the hands of the plotters!" CROW: Runs in the family. > he added, in an aside >to Ned. > >"Well, I don't know who the man was," said Mrs. Baggert. CROW: [Mrs. Baggert] So I instantly trusted him. >"He seemed all right, and of course having a note from you--" TOM: --he was excused from P.E. classes. >"Who has that note now?" asked Tom quickly. JOEL: Hey, boy genius, shouldn't you be more concerned over the whereabouts of the *tank*? >"Your father." > >"Come on," and Tom led the way back to the house. CROW: As the others were, as always, hopelessly lost. > "I'll >have a look at that document, which of course I never wrote, JOEL: Said King John of the Magna Carta. >and then we'll get after the plotters and the tank." > >"She ought to be easy to trace," observed Mr. Damon. >"Bless my fountain pen, but she ought to be easy to trace! CROW: [Ned] But will she be easy to trace, Tom? >She will leave a track like a giant boa constrictor crawling >along." JOEL: If the snake had downed a few dozen elephants, maybe. >"Yes, I guess we can trace her, all right," assented Tom >Swift; TOM: [Tom Swift] I'll have to give you that, yeah. > "but the point is, will there be anything left of >her? JOEL: Wasn't she supposed to be dismantled, anyway? > What's what I'm afraid of now." > >Mr. Swift was still excited, CROW: Nah, he just has to go to the bathroom. > but his worry had subsided as >soon as he knew Tom was safe. TOM: [Tom Swift] So why didn't you call the police, dad? CROW: [Mr. Swift] I was told we shouldn't involve them. TOM: [Tom Swift] What idiot told you that? CROW: [Mr. Swift] That's an exceptionally stupid question, son. >"The whole thing is a forgery, but fairly well done," Tom >said, as he looked at the paper his father gave him-- CROW: Tom's application for employment to the House of Hohenzollern. > a brief >note stating that Tom was well, but detained on business, TOM: In Berlin. >and that the tank was to be brought to him, just where the >bearer of the note would indicate. JOEL: I can see how this wouldn't be suspect. > Koku, the giant, TOM: Rather than Koku, the normal-sized person. > and >several of the machinists, who knew how to operate the big >machine, were to go with it, the note said. CROW: And to bring lots and lots of fresh sauerkraut. >"That made me sure everything was all right," said Mr. >Swift. "I knew, of course, Tom, that plotters might try to >get hold of your war secret, CROW: Which really isn't a secret anymore. > but I didn't see how they could >if Koku and some of your own men were in possession." > >"They couldn't--as long as they remained in possession," TOM: [Mr. Swift] That's what I just said, dolt. >Tom said. "But that's the trouble. I'm afraid they haven't. >What has probably happened is that under the direction of >this man, who brought the forged note from me, Koku and the >others took the tank where he directed them, thinking to >meet me. JOEL: This is like someone explaining how to use a connect-the-dots puzzle. TOM: Of a straight line. > Then, reaching the place where the rest of the >plotters were concealed, they overpowered Koku and the >others and took possession of the machine." CROW: So that door with a lock was never installed? >"They'd have trouble with Koku," suggested Ned. > >"Yes, but even a giant can't fight too big a crowd, TOM: Eegah took on a pool party. >especially if he is taken by surprise, and that's probably >what happened," remarked Tom. TOM: Wouldn't it be nice if it turns out that Koku and the workmen actually had a daring fight and chase scene, managing to capture the villains at the end of it? CROW: Wouldn't it be nice if we weren't stuck in space reading crappy stories? > "Now the question is where is >the tank, and how can we get her back? JOEL: That's two questions, Tom. > Every minute counts. CROW: So kick back for a few hours, folks, as they talk about what might be happening. TOM: Over and over again. >If those German spies and their helpers, CROW: The elves? > remain in possession >long, they'll find out enough of my secrets to enable them >to duplicate the machine, and especially some of the most >exclusive features. We've got to get after 'em!" TOM: [Tom Swift] The Germans must never learn the secret of cupholders! >"They imitated your writing pretty well, Tom," Observed >Ned, as he looked at the forged note. JOEL: [Ned] They even spelled your name right. S - C - H - N - E - L - L. >"Yes; that's why they took all my papers away from me--to >get specimens of my handwriting. I half suspected that, but >I didn't quite figure out what their game was. TOM: More like he never had a clue until now, but knows with the lack of viable neural activity around him he can easily take credit for it. > Well, we know >the worst now, and that's better than working in the dark. CROW: [singing] And I'm having a wonderful time but I'd rather be whistling in the dark! >Now I'm going to have a bath and get into some decent >clothes, and we'll see what we can do." TOM: [Tom Swift] So send me my hairdresser and masseuse and tailor and ... CROW: Remember, "every minute counts" only in a relative sense. >"Count on me, Tom!" exclaimed Ned. JOEL: I hope Ned wasn't referring to the bath. > "I'll go the limit with >you!" > >"I knew you would, old man!" > >"And me, too!" cried Mr. Damon. TOM: [Mr. Damon] I'm still here! > "Bless my open fireplace, >but I'll send word to my wife that I'm not coming home to- >night, CROW: And she'll throw a huge party in celebration. > and we can start the first thing in the morning, >Tom." > >"Yes; there isn't much use in going now, as it will soon >be dark." JOEL: National Security can only be risked during daylight hours, you know. >"How are you going to trace the tank, Tom?" asked Ned, CROW: Pencil and paper? >when his chum had bathed and gotten into fresh clothes. > >"I'm going to tour the country around here in an auto. TOM: [Tom Swift] I'll charge tickets at fifty dollars a pop and sell T-shirts with my glorious visage on them at thirty-two dollars each! > The >tank can make ten miles an hour, but that's nothing to what >an auto can do. JOEL: Tom demonstrates his awesome, intimate knowledge of machines. > And we oughtn't to have much trouble in >tracing her. No one whose house she passed would forget her >in a hurry." TOM: Divine? >"That's so," agreed Ned. "But if they took her across >country--" TOM: In a brilliant tactical maneuver, the Germans drive the tank to California to be shipped to Germany. >"A different story," agreed Tom. "Come to think of it, >maybe we'd better start to-night, Ned. CROW: And the action potential has crossed the axon threshold, making it across the axon and to the awaiting dendrites on the next neuron! JOEL & TOM: [cheering] TOM: Wait -- did Tom Swift just forget that tanks are off-road vehicles? > We can make inquiries >after dark as well as by daylight and get ready for an early >morning hunt" > >"Let's do it, then!" suggested his chum. TOM: [singing] Let's fall in love! > "I'm ready. I'll >send word that I'll not be home to-night." TOM: [Tom Swift] Your parents care? >"Good!" cried the young inventor. "We'll have an old- >fashioned hunt after our enemies, Ned!" TOM: [Tom Swift] On horses! And we'll use dogs! >"And don't leave me out!" begged Mr. Damon. JOEL: Wow, Mr. Damon is really looking for excuses not to go home to his wife. > Hurried >preparations were made for the night trip. TOM: [Tom Swift] By jove, we'll leave at once! CROW: [Ned] Count me in, Tom! JOEL: [Mr. Damon] I'm coming, too! TOM: [Tom Swift] Great! Now, we leave at once! CROW: [Ned] I'm with you! JOEL: [Mr. Damon] And don't forget me! TOM: [Tom Swift] Come, we must leave at once! CROW: And so on and so forth. > Tom ordered out >one of his speediest, though not largest, automobiles, JOEL: This disappointed Ned. > and >told his helper to get the Hawk ready, to have her so she >could start at a moment's notice if needed. CROW: My favorite kind of prom date. >"You're not going in her, are you, Tom?" asked Ned. > >"I may need her to-morrow for daylight hunting. If the >tank's hidden somewhere, I can spot her from above more >easily than from the ground. JOEL: Germans don't know you can park a tank in the woods, after all. > So if we get any trace of my >machine, I can phone in TOM: An air strike. > and have the aeroplane brought to >me." > >"That's a good idea!" CROW: Changing your underwear once in a while is considered a "good idea" by Ned. >Inquiry at the shop where the tank had been built and kept >disclosed the fact that, in addition to Koku, three of Tom's >men had gone in her to help manage the machine under the >direction of the man who bore the forged note. TOM: Since nobody knew how to drive it, a few workers in the shop were killed as the tank jerked about. > That he was >one of the plotters not hitherto observed by either Ned or >Tom seemed certain. CROW: Ned and Tom would have fit right in during the Red Scare. >"And they took Koku and some of the men merely to make it >look natural and as if it were all right," Tom said. CROW: The fact that one man can't drive the tank by himself never entered into it. >"Naturally that deceived my father, who thought, of course, >that I was waiting for the machine. Well, it was a slick >trick, Ned, but we may fool them yet." > >"I hope so, Tom." CROW: [Ned] And by the way, if you don't mind my asking... why haven't you enlisted? >Night had fully fallen when Tom, Ned, and Mr. Damon >started away in the touring car. TOM: The night of the following Tuesday. JOEL: Crowds cheering them on from the sidewalks. CROW: Tom Swift -- Master of Discretion! >Out onto the road rolled the automobile. During the little >daylight that had remained after his arrival at home and >following the discovery of the loss of the tank TOM: And his bath, change of clothes, dinner, reading of the paper, and the daily "Down with the Huns!" rally held in the living room. > Tom and Ned >had traced it, by the marks of the big steel caterpillar >belts, TOM: Tom was in the Tribal Police and he knows how to track a tank. > to the main road. It had gone along that some >distance, just how far could not be said. CROW: We could look out the window from here and see where it went! IT'S A FIFTY TON TANK! >"But by using the searchlight of the auto we can trace her >as long as they keep her on the road," said Tom. TOM: [Tom Swift] I'm hoping that they won't realize the tank has off-road capabilities. CROW: [Ned] You're so smart, Tom. > "After that >we'll have to trust to luck, and to what inquiries we can >make." CROW: Time to canvas the 'hood. >The touring car carried a powerful lamp, TOM: Built on the same principles described in "Tom Swift and His Searchlight." > and by its gleams >it was easy to trace for a time the progress of the >ponderous tank. JOEL: The roadkills were frequent and spectacular. > There was no need to make inquiries of >persons living along the way, though once or twice Tom did >get out to ask, confirming the fact that the big machine had >rumbled past in a direction away from the Swift home. JOEL: It'd be embarrassing if it turned out that they had been following the tank treads of that *other* experimental tank in the area. >"I had an idea they might have doubled on their tracks for >a time, and backed her up just to fool us," Tom said. "They >might do that, keeping her in the same tracks." CROW: But... wouldn't that mean they'd back up all the way back to the plant? >But this, evidently, had not been done, and the tank was >making good speed away from the Swift Louse. [Titters.] JOEL: Thank you, transcription errors. > They kept up >the search until about midnight, CROW: Then let it all hang out. > and then a heavy rain began >just before they reached a point where several roads >branched. TOM: It's like the floor at kindergarten -- everything happens on the crossroads! Tom's kidnapped at the crossroads, rain starts at the crossroads, Ned and Mr. Damon lose the trail at the crossroads.... >"Luck's with them!" exclaimed Tom. "This will wash away >the marks, and we'll have to go it blind. CROW: [Tom Swift] So everyone close your eyes. > Might as well put >up here for the night," he added, as they came to a village >hotel. TOM: [Tom Swift] Go ahead and park next to that tank. Hey... >It was evident that little more could be done in the rain >and darkness, and there was danger of over-running the trail >of the tank if they kept on. JOEL: [Tom Swift] They must be using the air cushion which lets my tank move without ripping up several inches of topsoil. TOM: Hammer's Slammers. > So they turned in at the hotel >and got what little rest they could in their anxious state >of minds. CROW: And unyielding stream of patter. >Tom tried to be cheerful and to look for the best, but it >was hard work. TOM: In over twenty years the best he could find was Mr. Damon and Ned, after all. > The tank was his pet invention, CROW: For this book, at least. > and, >moreover, that her secrets should fall into the hands of the >enemy and be used for Germany and against the United States >eventually, made the young inventor feel that everything >was going wrong. CROW: The only solution was to convince the President to pull the States out of the war. >The rain kept up all night, and this would make it >correspondingly hard for them to pick up the trail in the >morning. JOEL: [Appleton] I'm building suspense, see. >"The only thing we can do is to make inquiries," decided >Tom. TOM: [Tom Swift] Looking for turfed lawns, rammed trees, or upturned rocks is out of the question. > "Fortunately, the tank can't easily be hidden." CROW: Not now that you've already trashed all the factories and barns in the area. >They started off after an early breakfast. The roads were >so muddy and wet that traveling was difficult and dangerous >for the automobile, CROW: As already mentioned, early tanks tended to do badly in mud, but that probably won't stop Appleton. > and they were disappointed in finding no >one who had seen or heard the tank pass up to a point not >far from the hotel where they had stayed overnight. From >then on the big machine seemed to have disappeared. CROW: With a cloaking device? It's forty feet long, at least! It weighs fifty tons! It leaves a track a blind dog could follow! >"I know what they've done," Tom said, when noon came and >they had found no trace of the ponderous war machine. TOM: [Tom Swift] They've painted it invisible, the Boche scum! >"They've left the road and taken her cross country, and we >can't find the spot where they did this because the rain has >washed out the marks. JOEL: Well, maybe if it flooded the county. > Well, there's only one thing left to >do." TOM: Invent RADAR! >"What's that?" asked Ned. TOM: [Tom Swift] Give up. >"Get the Hawk! In that we can look down and over a big >extent of country. That's what I'll do--I'll phone for the >airship. CROW: [Tom Swift] Yeah, that's the ticket.... > The rain is stopping, I think." > >The rain did cease by the time one of Tom's men brought >the speedy aircraft to the place named by the young inventor >in his telephone message. TOM: After being duped twice by someone pretending to be Tom or speaking for Ned, you'd think they'd start to catch on, but no.... > There were still several hours of >daylight left, and Tom counted on them to allow him to rise >in the air and look down on the tanks possible hiding place. JOEL: Tom just likes looking down on the world in general, really. >"One thing's sure," he told Ned: TOM: [Tom Swift] You have no future. > "I know the limit of her >speed, and she can't be farther off than at some place >within a circle of about one hundred and twenty-five miles >from my house. And it's in the direction we're in. So if I >circle around up above, I may spot her." CROW: It's a shame there's isn't an Army airfield nearby you could ask for help. TOM: Yeah. Of course, even if there was, why would they care about helping finding a stolen prototype tank? >"I hope so," murmured Ned. > >It was arranged that Mr. Damon TOM: [Mr. Damon] I'm still here! > should take the automobile >back, with Tom's mechanician in it, CROW: A gracious offer from Tom. > and Tom and Ned would >scout around in the aircraft, which carried only two. JOEL: [Appleton] Which I relentlessly hammered away at back at the start of the tale, but there might be people like Ned reading. >"You ought to have a machine gun with you, Tom, if you >plan to attack those fellows to get back the tank," Ned >said. > >"Oh, I don't imagine I'll need it," he said. TOM: [Tom Swift] They're likely to blast us out of the sky before we even get close. > "Anyhow, a >machine gun wouldn't be of much effect against the tank. TOM: [Tom Swift] Which is the point of a tank. Get it? > And >they can't fire on us, for there wasn't any ammunition for >the guns in Tank A, unless they got some of their own, and I >hardly believe they'd do that. TOM: [Tom Swift] What would German spies have ammunition for, anyway? > I'll take a chance, anyhow." > >And so the search from the air began. It was disappointing >at first. JOEL: They spotted over a dozen tanks, but none were Tom's. > Around and around circled Tom and Ned, their eyes >peering eagerly down from the heights for a sight of the >tank, possibly hidden in some little-known ravine or gully. TOM: [Tour Bus Driver] ...And over on your left, you can see a wild tank. >Back and forth, like a speck in the sky, Tom guided the >Hawk, while Ned took observation after observation with the >binoculars. CROW: [Ned] Buzz past Mary's house again, will you, Tom? She's getting ready for a bath.... >At last, when the low-sinking sun gave warning that night >would soon be upon them, Ned's glasses picked up something >on the ground far below that made him sit suddenly >straighter in his seat. CROW: [Ned] A big thing! >"What is it?" asked Tom through the speaking apparatus, >feeling the movement on the part of his chum. TOM: [singing] I feel the Hawk... move... under my seat.... >"I see something down there, Tom," was the answer. TOM: [Tom Swift] That's why I asked what it was, nimrod. > "It >doesn't look like the tank, and yet it doesn't look as a >clump of trees and bushes ought to look. CROW: [Ned] I mean, do trees normally grown in geometric patterns? > Have a peep >yourself. TOM: [Tom Swift] Peep. I like this game, Ned. > It's just beyond that river, against the side of >the hill--a lonesome place, too." TOM: Great location for a Morrissey video. >Tom took the glasses while Ned assumed control of the >Hawk, JOEL: It would prove to be Tom's last mistake. > there being a dual system for operating and steering >her. > >No sooner had the young inventor got the focus on what Ned >had indicated than he gave a cry. JOEL: As Ned drove the Hawk nose-first into the ground. >"What is it?" asked the young bank clerk. CROW: I just realized that Appleton is attempting to pass off a bank clerk as an action hero's mascot. TOM: Ned as the poster-boy for bank clerks. What a way to kill a profession. >"Camouflaged!" cried Tom, and without stopping to explain >what he meant, he handed the binoculars back to Ned and >began to guide the Hawk down toward the earth at high speed. TOM: ....sssshhhhhhhHHWWWAHHHH--BOOM! >Chapter XXV > >Foiled CROW: Mr. Potato Head comes to a grisly end. >"Is it really Tank A, Tom?" cried Ned, through the tube, JOEL: [Ned] Or Tank B? >as soon as he became aware of his companion's intention. TOM: Which was....? >"Are you sure?" > >"That's the girl, and just where you spotted her with the >glasses--in that clump of bushes. TOM: [Tom Swift] She has to... you know... "go." > But they've daubed her >with green and brown paint--camouflaged her, so to speak-- >until she looks like part of the landscape. CROW: Or an impressionist painting. > What made you >suspicious of that particular place?" TOM: The German spies were on top of the tank singing "Der Freischtz" at the top of their lungs. >"The green was such a bright one in contrast to the rest >of the foliage around it.', CROW: [Ned] Their Pantone color chips must be off. >"That's what struck me," Tom answered, as he continued to >drive the Hawk earthward. JOEL: That doesn't strike me as "smart flying." > "They thought they were doing a >smart trick--imitating the tactics of the Allies with their >tanks--but they must be color blind." TOM: Only if they painted the tank blue. >Ned took another observation through the glasses. He could >see the tank more easily now. CROW: The main gun pivoting to face them.... > There she was, fairly well >hidden in a clump of bushes and small trees on the banks of >a river, about a hundred miles away from Shopton. It was in >a wild and desolate country, JOEL: Oh, France. > and only with the airship could >the trail have thus been followed. CROW: Hiking was out of the question. >Ned saw that the tank had been daubed with green, yellow, >and brown paint, in fantastic blotches, JOEL: So Manet was a German spy? > to make the big >machine blend with the foliage; and, to a certain extent, >this had been accomplished. TOM: With the nearby green-yellow-brown-blotch bush. >But, as Ned had remarked, the green used was of too vivid >a hue. JOEL: Should have asked Sherman-Williams. > No natural tree put forth leaves like that, and the >glass had further revealed the error. TOM: "Glass?" CROW: I'm guessing it's supposed to read "grass." JOEL: Or Appleton forgot they were using binoculars and not a telescope. >"Look, Tom!" suddenly cried Ned. "She's moving!" CROW: [Ned] And groovin' to the funky beat! >"You're right!" answered the young inventor. "They've seen >us and are trying to get away." > >"But they can't beat your airship, Tom." > >"I know that. TOM: [Tom Swift] But I know everything, so that shouldn't surprise you. > But their game--Oh, Ned, they're going to >wreck her!" cried Tom, and there was anguish in his voice. CROW: Tom had just finished off his payments on her. >As the two looked down from their seats In the Hawk they >saw the tank, in its fantastic dress of splotchy paint, JOEL: Seems to be an important plot point. >leave her lair amid the bushes and trees, and head toward >the river. Like some ponderous prehistoric monster about to >take a drink, CROW: Linda Tripp heads to the drinking fountain. > she careened her way toward the stream, which, >at this point, ran between high banks. > >"What's the game?" cried Ned. JOEL: According to Tom Swift, the Great War. >"They're going to send her to smash!" cried Tom. "She's >pretty tough, Tom, but she'll never stand a tumble down into >the river without breaking a lot of machinery inside her." CROW: Wouldn't you know, right after they installed the new foosball table! >"But if they demolish the tank they'll kill themselves, >won't they? And Koku and your men, too, who must be >prisoners in her!" TOM: Notice that it's Ned, not Tom, who seems to be concerned with human life here. >"They won't risk their own worthless hides, you may be >sure of that!" exclaimed Tom. CROW: Still too wrought out over his beloved tank to care about what may have happened to Koku and his workers. >"There they go, but they must have left Koku and the >others to their fate!" JOEL: [Dully] You can just feel his concern. >"Oh, if they could only get loose and take control now, >Tom, they'd save your tank for you!" shouted Ned. JOEL: Not too mention their own lives. >"Yes; but they can't, I'm afraid. They may be killed, or >so securely bound that they can't get loose!" TOM: He seems okay with this. >"Can't you get the Hawk there in time to stop her?" > >"I'm afraid not. By that time she'll have attained top >speed and it would be taking our lives in our bands to try >to make a flying jump, get inside, and shut off the motors." TOM: [Tom Swift] I'm too important to die. But, if you're game... CROW: [Ned] I'd love to, but, uh, I have Liberty Bonds to sell! >"Then the tank's got to smash!" said Ned gloomily. CROW: [Tom Swift] I'm not in the tank, so it's acceptable losses. >Tom did not answer for a moment. TOM: Wondering how he'd write this on his insurance claim. > He and his chum watched >the fleeing figures running away from the war engine. What >the plotters had done, as soon as they saw the aircraft and >realized that Tom had discovered them, was to start the >motors and leap from the tank, closing the doors after them. JOEL: Oh, so the doors *were* installed! CROW: That must have been the secret that Tom wanted to keep out of Germany's hands. >Whether or not they had left Koku and the others prisoners >inside remained to be seen. CROW: And like an egg, we'll see what oozes out when the tank is cracked open at the bottom of the cliff. >But the tank was plunging her way toward the steep bank of >the river, doomed, it seemed, to great damage, if not to >destruction. TOM: Joel, isn't there something wrong when the fate of the tank is made to be more important than the people inside? >"Oh, if we could only halt her!" murmured Ned. > >Tom Swift was busy with some apparatus on >the Hawk. CROW: Ripping out the speaking tube. > Ned heard the hum of an electric >motor which was connected with the engine, and >there soon sounded the crackle of the wireless. JOEL: Tom's logging on to check his e-mail. >"What are you doing? Signaling for help from those inside >the tank?" asked Ned, for the big machine was fitted to >receive and send messages of this sort TOM: Messages to save itself? >"I'm trying something more desperate than that," Tom >answered. CROW: Hopefully he's rigging Ned's seat to eject the banker into the tread- wheels of the tank, jamming them up and saving those within. >Again the wireless crackled, Tom working it with one hand >while, with the other, he guided the aircraft. Ned looked >downward with wondering eyes. CROW: Not a thought in his head. >The tank was still plunging her way toward the steep bank >of the river. JOEL: The inspiration for "Thelma & Louise." > If she tumbled down this, there would be >little left of the expensive and complicated machinery >inside. JOEL: [Appleton] Oh, and the people inside would be killed, too. TOM: Are you sure Nowak didn't have a hand in writing this? >"The rascals did their work well," mused Ned. "They've >probably gotten all the secrets they want and now they're >going to spoil all Tom's hard work. CROW: Yeah, it's not like he made blueprints to build another one. > It's a shame! If only--" TOM: [Ned] Those worthless workers inside would make an effort to break free of their bonds and save the tank! They're so lazy! >Ned ceased his musing. JOEL: His train of thought stalling in the station yet again. > Something was taking place down >below that he could not explain. CROW: The water in the river-- it was *moving*!! > The tank seemed to be >slackening her progress. More and more slowly she approached >the edge of the cliff. TOM: [Tank A] Maybe this isn't such a good idea. >"Tom! Tom!" yelled Ned. "You must have waked some of them >up inside JOEL: [Ned] How could they have been napping at a time like this, anyway? You should fire them all! > and they've thrown the motors out of gear! Hurrah! >She's stopping!" > >"I believe she is!" yelled Tom. TOM: [Tom Swift] My creation! She has achieved sentience at last! I will name her ... Bolo A! > "Oh, if it only works!" CROW: [dully] Be still my beating heart. >The tank was still moving, though more slowly. Still the >crackle of the wireless was heard. TOM: [Tom Swift] Damn cellular phones-- hello? Domino's? Did you get my order? >And then, just as Tom shut off his own motor JOEL: There's nothing Tom loves more than dead stick landings. > and let the >Hawk glide on her downward way in a volplane to earth, the >great, ponderous tank came to a stop, on the very edge of >the precipice at the foot of which rolled the river. CROW: Wait -- was that another of Appleton's tension scenes? >"Whew!" whistled Ned, as the aircraft rolled along the >ground near the war machine. "That was touch and go, Tom! >They stopped her just in time." JOEL: [Ned] I guess they don't need to be fired after all. >"You mean the wireless stopped her," said Tom quietly. JOEL: [Ned] Oh, then cut the deadbeats off completely. >"I'm very much afraid that if Koku and the others are alive >they're still prisoners in the craft." CROW: Why exactly is this a bad thing? >"The wireless!" gasped Ned, as he and his chum got out of >the Hawk. "Do you mean that you stopped her by wireless, >Tom?" TOM: Through it he was able to talk Tank A out of suicide. JOEL: [Tom Swift] But you *are* loved -- I love you more than my motor-cycle, my electric runabout, my wizard camera, my searchlight, my big tunnel.... >"That's what I did. It was a desperate chance, but I took >it. ALL: [flatly] Whoop-de-doo. > I had just installed in the tank a system of wireless >control, so she could be guided as some torpedos and >submarines are, by wireless impulses from the shore. JOEL: Oh for-- CROW: I don't believe it. TOM: This... is getting a little wacky. >"Only I'd never given the tank system a tryout. It was all >installed, and had worked perfectly on the small model I >constructed. TOM: [Tom Swift] This way nobody needs to be inside to steer it into battle! CROW: [Ned] But, then what's the point of making it so big if no humans are needed to operate it? TOM: [Tom Swift] ...oh. > And when I saw her running away, out of control >as she was, I realized the wireless was the only thing that >would stop her, if that would. It might operate just >opposite to what I wanted, though, and increase her speed." JOEL: Amazing that this just happened to be the only thing that he had left to test on the tank before shipment, isn't it? CROW: Who said he planned on testing it? >"But I took the chance. CROW: [Ned] You're so brave, Tom. > I set the airship wireless current >to working, JOEL: Switching over from "slacking off." > and tuned it in to coincide with the control of >the tank. Then, by means of the wireless impulse I shut off >the motors, which can he stopped or started by hand or by >electricity. TOM: Many years in the future, this became known to all as "technobabble." CROW: I can think of better things to call it. > I shut 'em off." > >"And only just in time!" cried Ned. "Whew, Tom Swift, but >that was a close call!" CROW: [Ned] Shouldn't we check inside to see if the others are okay? TOM: [Tom Swift] Later. Gush some more about my perfection. >"I realize that myself!" said the young inventor. "This is >a new idea and has to be worked out further for our newer >tanks." > >"Gee!" ejaculated Ned. "Out of date before got into use! JOEL: Give Appleton credit; this was written before computers turned that line into common parlance. >Now let's see about our friends!" CROW: So they flew off to visit with Mr. Damon and Mary. >It was the work of but a moment to enter the tank, TOM: Ha -- the fiends forgot to lock up when they left. > and, >after making sure that the machinery was all right, JOEL: Priorities first, right Tom? > Tom and >Ned made their way to the interior. CROW: Torches leading the way.... > In one of the smallest >rooms they found TOM: A chest, guarded by an orc -- oh, we said that already. > Koku and the others bound with ropes, and >in a bad way. Koku was so tied with cords and hemp as to >resemble a bale of Manilla cable. TOM: Tom and Ned enjoyed a hearty laugh at this before moving to help. >"Cut 'em loose, Ned!" cried Tom, and the bonds were soon >severed. Then came explanations. JOEL: For what? Appleton has painstakingly explained everything that happened three times already. >As has been told, JOEL: [Appleton] But I'll tell it again. > one of the plotters, CROW: German spies, yes... > whose identity was >not learned until later, came with the forged note. JOEL: Which one? > The >giant and Tom's men set out in the tank, and the machine was >stopped at a certain place where the plotter, who gave the >name of Crossleigh, CROW: It must be "later." > told them Tom was to meet his men. > >Out of ambush leaped Simpson and others, who overpowered TOM: The tank, bare-handed no less. >the mechanics, even subduing Koku after a fierce fight, JOEL: [Tom Swift] And what a fight it was, I tell you-- oh, wait. You're talking about Koku. > and >then they took possession of the tank, making the others >prisoners. TOM: Having no clue how to drive this experimental tank, they conjured the iron and steel fairies. >What happened after that could only be conjectured by >Tom's men, for they were shut up in an inner room. CROW: Too bad Ned wasn't with them.... > It >seemed certain, though, that the tank was taken to some >secret place CROW: Nobody's exactly sure how, but-- > and there painted to resemble the verdure. JOEL: Along with flames and racing pinstripes down the sides. > Then >she went on again, coming to rest where Tom and Ned saw hen TOM: And two ducks, three squawking geese, four corpulent porpoises.... >Meanwhile the plotters were gradually getting at the >secrets of construction, CROW: They discovered it was made of metal. > and they were in the midst of this >work when one of them saw the aeroplane. Rightly guessing >what it portended, TOM: Still practicing augury, I see. > they left hurriedly, JOEL: But were considerate enough to close the door behind them. > still leaving the >hapless men bound, and started the tank on what they thought >would be her last trip. TOM: Into a den of rust monsters. >"But you saved her, Tom!" cried Ned. "You saved her with >the wireless." JOEL: Like Old Faithful, Ned gushes every 15 minutes on the dot. >And word was sent back to Shopton by the same means to >tell Mr. Swift, Mr. Damon, and the others that Tom and his >tank were safe. CROW: [Appleton] Oh, and the men who were captured. Now, back to the tank-- > And then, a little later, when the bound men >had recovered the use of their cramped limbs, the tank was >backed away from the ledge and started on her homeward way, >Tom and Ned preceding her in the Hawk. CROW: Cue the fanfare. >Without further incident, save a slight break which was >soon repaired, TOM: By Tom, using the wireless while flying, no doubt. > Tank A soon reached her harbor again, and a >double guard was posted about the shop. JOEL: Any worker caught passing notes received two week's detention. >"And they won't get much more chance to steal her >secrets," said Tom that night, when the stories had been >told. CROW: And ridiculed. >"Why?" asked Ned. JOEL: If there were justice in the world, Eradicate would be offered command of the guards because he's the only one in the story who caught a German spy without his crawling into his lap. >"We start to dismantle her at once," Tom answered, [Tom chuckles.] TOM: Yeah, it's much harder to sneak small tank parts out than the whole tank itself. > "and >she goes to England to be reproduced for France." CROW: Better breeding grounds there, I guess. JOEL: This was written back when England had factories. TOM: Next you'll be saying they had a Navy. >"If only those plotters haven't stolen the secrets," mused >Ned. TOM: Given the cunning shown so far by Simpson and company, I doubt you have anything to worry about. >But if they had they got little good of them. For shortly >afterward government secret service agents rounded up the >chief members of the gang, TOM: Thanks to the new shipment of sauerkraut-baited traps. > including Simpson and Blakeson. JOEL: And for the record, this is the first and only time in the story that Blakeson is shown to be part of the German spy ring. >They, with Schwen, were sent to an internment camp for the >period of the war, CROW: And forced to eat non-German food! TOM: Serves 'em right! > and enough information was obtained from >them to disclose all the workings of the plot. JOEL: That'll take all of five minutes, even with Appleton writing. >"It was just like lots of other stunts the German spies >tried to put over on the good old U.S.A.," said Tom to Ned, CROW: And, once again, Tom Swift has made America safe for upper-class white male power-holders from... uh... upper-class white male power-holders, really. >the day after the dismantled tank was shipped to Great >Britain. "In some way the spies found out what I was making, TOM: [Tom Swift] Despite my tight security. >and then they got hold of Blakeson and Grinder. Those >fellows, CROW: Being enemies of Tom Swift, were naturally unAmerican to begin with. > who so nearly queered me in the big tunnel game >promised to make a tank that would beat those the British at >first put out, and they took some German money in advance >for doing it. JOEL: Suspicions started to mount when they tried to spend it here in the States. >"When they found they couldn't make good, the German spies >agreed to help them get possession of my secrets. They >worked hard enough at it, TOM: Climbing trees, trying to outwit Ned.... > too, but, thanks to you, Ned, and >to Eradicate, who gave us the tip on Schwen, we beat 'em >out" CROW: And Tom showed his appreciation of Eradicate's cool deception by having him continue to rake the yard and clean up the trash. >"And so it's all over, Tom?" TOM: God, I hope so. >"Yes, practically all over. I've given all my interests in >the tank to Uncle Sam. It was the only way I could do my >bit, at this time. CROW: [Ned] So you really are a coward, eh? > But I've something else up my sleeve." >And those of you who care to learn what the young inventor >next did may do so by reading the next volume of this >series. TOM: "Tom Swift and His Elbow." CROW: Are we sure this isn't a fanfic? It's got all the pretentious hallmarks of self-promotion and self-aggrandizement. >It was about a week after Tank A, as she was still >officially called, JOEL: The Allies hope that the Germans will be too busy laughing at the name to shoot. > had been shipped in sections that Ned >Newton called at Tom's home. He found his chum, with a >flower in his buttonhole, CROW: It's their secret code for "Meet me tonight by the flower bed." > about to leave in his small >runabout > >"Oh, excuse me!" exclaimed Ned. "This is Wednesday night. JOEL: I haven't gotten any smarter since this adventure, as you can tell. >I might have known. Give Mary my regards." > >"I will," promised Tom, with a smile." CROW: A bit of an ambiguous statement. [pause] TOM: So... that's it? All that talk about Tom going overseas really was bunk? JOEL: You want to read more? TOM: God, no. CROW: He might not have been calling it a "game" anymore, at least, once people starting shooting at him. TOM: Yeah, and then the Germans would join in! Thank you! [They exit the theater.] [1....2....3....4....5....6....SoL] [The trio are gathered behind the counter, looking disturbingly giddy. TOM is dressed again in his Tom Perfect role, while CROW once again sports the Ned costume. JOEL signals to Cambot.] JOEL: Okay, Cambot, hit it! [Music begins to play. TOM speaks over the intro.] TOM: Yes, folks, thanks to the American invention of 'adverbs,' you too can act like the boy inventor Tom Swift, Liberty Bond salesman and village idiot Ned Newton, escaped mental ward patient Mr. Damon, and all the other colorful characters of the recycled chromosome town of Shopton! And here's how you do it! [Sung to the tune of Tom Lehrer's "L-Y." JOEL and the Bots dance, cavort, and otherwise seem to have finally flipped their lids as they sing.] TOM: You're a top-rate engineer Building secret wartime gear How do you hide it from your chums who pass on by? Brazenly Brazenly Brazen... L-Y! CROW: You're climbing your favorite tree When a German spy you see How do you act when he gives you sauerkraut to try? Cluelessly Cluelessly Clueless... L-Y! JOEL: You're driving your big war tank With your machinist chum, Hank How do you drive through neighbors' wheat, corn, and rye? Callously Callously Callous... L-Y! TOM: You're running through old buildings With no clue who they're housing How does the judge act when he sentences you to fry? Cheerfully Cheerfully Cheerful... L-Y! CROW: With German spies all around And the forged notes that abound How do you know that Blakeson's behind all these lies? You don't You don't You don't... YOU DON'T! JOEL: Your best chum has been kidnapped And could be rotting somewhere in a sack How do you go about making sure he doesn't die? Leisurely Leisurely Leisure... L-Y! ALL: The Boche have your machine Whose secrets they want to glean How do you move to thwart the plans they wish to ply? Casually Casually Cas-u-al-L-Y! Nice try! [The music ends and they all laugh merrily. The red light starts blinking. JOEL swats it.] [COMFY CHAIR] [JOHN, still relaxing in his Comfy Chair, looks blandly at the camera. He holds a PDA in his hand, armed and at the ready.] JOHN: This how you spend your free time? [SoL] JOEL: John? TOM: [mumbling] Party's over.... CROW: Great -- I think our set of lights here have a loose wire or something. How come we keep getting the Depression Station with the host John of Babblesworth? [COMFY CHAIR] JOHN: Actually, I called you. I wanted to talk to you about some of the points you raised about the story. [SoL] TOM: This promises to be painful, Joel. JOEL: Well, hang on Tom. John, did you actually *read* this story? CROW: Willfully? [COMFY CHAIR] JOHN: Well, I kind of liked it. I mean, sure, it's badly written, the characters are clichd away from any semblance of life, there are moments that horrify you because of their pure wrongness, but it's got lots of technical descriptions and there's an engineer in it. [SoL] CROW: It does sound like your stuff, doesn't it? [COMFY CHAIR] [JOHN leans back into lecture mode and takes a sip from his coffee mug.] JOHN: Anyways, let's get underway. [He starts tapping through his PDA.] [SoL] TOM: Wait -- what's happening? [COMFY CHAIR] JOHN: [blissfully ignoring the question] Now then, back in the beginning, we have this except: >> Then Tom built an airship, > >TOM: To fight the Nazis. JOHN: Much to my delight I must note how utterly wrong you are, as the Nazis did not become a target of American war until World War II. [SoL] TOM: I'm being punished for something, aren't I? Was it those crayons I swiped from Crow last week? Has that act of cruelty finally caught up with me? CROW: Hah! Justice is served. [COMFY CHAIR] JOHN: Oh, and Crow, this next one applies to you: >>VICTOR APPLETON > >CROW: He's probably dead by now. Lucky bastard. JOHN: Now really, Crow, "Victor Appleton" is a pen name used by a stable of alleged "writers" who wrote the Tom Swift tales. [SoL] CROW: Uh, it's called a joke, John. TOM: [to the others] I think the trick in the future is to not ask questions. [COMFY CHAIR] JOHN: I'm glad you brought that up, for not too much later you had a question: >> You didn't say what you >>wanted it for, except that it was for a heavy duty gasolene > >TOM: "Gasolene?" JOHN: Spelling conventions in America changed shortly after World War I, in which America sought to diversify from the traditional British spellings. An old shard of this spelling can still be found in words like "kerosene." [SoL] CROW: [shaking slightly] John... we did not like this story the *first* time we were forced to read it! [COMFY CHAIR] JOHN: Lovely. Now, next on my list, we have... what's that noise? [The scene begins shaking more and more as a distant rumbling steadily grows louder and louder. JOHN glances over his shoulder just in time to see the hastily constructed set cave in on him as a large tank comes bursting through, grinding up the Comfy Chair like so much as Appleton-approved toothpicks. Oh, and John was probably ground up as well under the treads. Now, back to the tank; it comes to a halt a moment later. The hatch pops open and out comes a smiling FRANK.] FRANK: Wow, Swift was right -- that *was* fun, trashing through an abandoned upscale apartment complex! [He looks around.] FRANK: And sure enough, the Swift dictum that you don't need to check before ramming a fifty-ton machine through a place that people usually dwell in holds fast; I don't see anyone around-- [He breaks off and glances over the edge of the tank, stunned.] FRANK: Oh my God... someone left a perfectly good PDA lying there! Is this my lucky day or what? [SoL] [The Bots sigh happily.] CROW: Actually, my dear Frank, I do believe that this is *our* lucky day. TOM: I'd go so far as to say humankind has taken one step closer to true transcendence. [The red light starts to flash.] JOEL: And you, lone sir, what do you think? [GIZMONICS] DR F: Well, I have to give you boys credit. I thought for sure that would get you. At least I'm safe down here from any possible retribution from -- [Doorbell rings. Puzzled, DR. FORRESTER heads over to the vault door and opens it. NED steps in, smiling.] NED: Hello, Doctor Forrestor. Some guys in space told me you were interested in buying some Liberty -- ---FWOOSH!--- TOM: [V.O.] ...Forrestor's computer must have preventive programming to shutdown when dense fields, like Ned, come too close. Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and situations are trademarks of and [c] copyright 199X-2000 by Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved. "Tom Swift and his War Tank" was written back around 1918 by "Victor Appleton" is currently in the public domain. As always, John Nowak is [c] copyrighted by himself. Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc. or anyone else is intended or should be inferred. This was not, in any way, shape, or form, a personal attack on "Victor Appleton." In fact, it shows that things really haven't changed over the last century -- long before Mary Sue and Marty Sam were named, Tom Swift ruled the written worlds with an iron fist. We owe him so much. This tale was downloaded from the following URL: http://promo.net/cgi-promo/pg/t9.cgi?entry=954&full=yes&ftpsite= ftp://ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/ (note that is actually one unbroken line of text, not two seperate sites.) And this link will take you to their copyright section of the site's FAQ: http://promo.net/pg/helpex.html#What-books Further information about how they check the copyrights for public domain works can be found elsewhere on the site, as well as in the header of each of the works available. This MiSTing is [c] copyright 2001 by John Nowak and Matt Plotecher. "Thanks for reading!" said Matt, adverbially. >"Well, they haven't got her yet," said Ned. "and they're >not likely to now. Go on, Tom, if you feel able tell us in a >few words what happened. We've been trying to think, but >can't."