Tom Swift and His Giant Robot by Victor Appleton II

Author:Victor Appleton II
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-03-18T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

DESERT THIEVERY

"MAN O MAN!" Bud managed to choke out. "Slim’s lucky to be unconscious!"

In actual fact, the makeshift transport wasn’t traveling very fast at all. But it shimmied and vibrated and rocked like a ship at sea, and the jet thruster—only a wan shadow of its normal self—growled and bellowed like an elephant in mating season, leaving behind a curdled trail of thick black smoke.

"You won’t have to take much more of this," Tom shouted over the cacophony of wind and machinery. "The fuel’s almost half-gone already! I’m afraid the Ghostland Express isn’t the most efficient way to travel."

At first the tracks were almost completely level. But a few minutes in, the boys found they were mounting a shallow incline as they neared a low ridge between some hills—and steadily slowing.

I just hope we’ve got enough oomph to make it over that ridge, Bud thought desperately.

As they neared the summit, the vehicle had slowed considerably, and the engine was already showing the first signs of fuel starvation.

"I’d tell you to open up the throttle, Tom," cried Bud. "But there isn’t any!"

Suddenly they were over the high point, and Tom and Bud shouted with glee and relief. The buildings of a small crossroads settlement lay directly ahead, about two miles distant. Even as the engine suddenly sputtered out, they were picking up speed on the downhill slope. Soon they were gliding along parallel to a two-lane highway, waving at the occasional curious driver.

Stopping was easy. Tom braced a length of metal against the rear handrail and angled it down to the earth next to the tracks. It dug into the dirt, and in seconds the short but heroic career of the Ghostland Express had come to an end.

Two hours later, Tom, sunburned and bandaged, sat with Bud inside his living quarters at the Citadel, regaling his father and sister, and Bashalli Prandit, with his survival story. "The state highway patrol called an ambulance, which carted Slim off to the nearest major hospital, which is in Roswell. I hear he’s doing fine, and a complete recovery is expected."

"But only because you boys acted with such ingenuity," observed Damon Swift. "We had barely begun the aerial search when the patrolmen put you through to us."

"Tom—Bud—we were all very frightened," said Bash in a quavering voice. "We could not imagine what had become of you."

"Oh, we could imagine, all right!" Sandy broke in. "We thought you’d all been gobbled up by crows!"

"As usual, it’s not quite clear that what happened had anything to do with ‘Oi-Pah’," said Tom. "There was no apparition this time. And the other times, the whatever-it-was did no harm."

Bud gave a skeptical snort. "Skipper, we were attacked just where you thought we’d be—as we got near Purple Mesa!"

"True," said Tom. Then he grinned. "On the other hand, we have been wrong occasionally when we jumped to conclusions with both feet!"

"Both state and federal law enforcement swarmed over the mesa when we alerted them that your jet was overdue," Mr. Swift pointed out.

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