"Appleton, Victor - Tom Swift Jr 10 - And His Ultrasonic Cycloplane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Appleton Victor)

"Hold it, fly boy!" Tom interrupted with a smile. "Before you go any farther,
how'd you like to fly to New Guinea?"
"New Guinea!" Bud's mouth dropped open in sheer amazement. "That's way
down in the South Pacific near Australia!"
"I know. We just got an urgent order from a gold mine down there-in Dutch
New Guinea, to be exact." Tom waved a radiogram he had been reading.
21
22 ULTRASONIC CYCLOPLANE
"An order for what?"
"Half a dozen Swift solar batteries. The mine's generators keep breaking
down, due to the tropical climate. So now they've decided to use solar batteries
to power all their mining equipment."
Tom's solar batteries, one of his most successful operations, stored up
intense energy from the sun's rays in a small compact unit. The batteries were
manufactured on a production line in Tom's sky-wheel man-made satellite,
known as his Outpost in Space.
"The mine needs the batteries pronto and they're willing to pay for fast
delivery," Tom added.
Bud scanned the radiogram quickly. "Wow, what an assignment! How soon
do we take off?"
"Not we-I'll have to stay here and design those new engine mounts for the
cycloplane," Tom explained, grinning at his pal's eagerness. "But Hank Sterling
will go along to install the batteries and trouble-shoot the setup."
"It's a deal!"
Within two hours a cargo jet had been checked and fueled for the long
overseas flight. Waving good-by to Tom and the ground crew, Bud and Hank
climbed aboard.
"Have a good trip, fellows!" Tom shouted.
"Thanks! Cheerio!"
"And watch out for those head-hunters!" joked a mechanic.
A short time later came the signal for take-off.
DISTRESS SIGNAL 23
With Bud at the controls, the big jet roared down the runway and climbed
steeply into the blue. As the plane dwindled to a speck in the southwestern sky, a
voice boomed over the loudspeaker mounted above the communications
building:
"Tom Swift, please contact your secretary at once!" Tom hurried to the main
building of Swift Enterprises. Miss Trent, cool and efficient, greeted him at her
desk outside the big double office.
"A call from Police Headquarters."
Tom rushed into his office and grabbed up the phone. "Tom Swift Jr.
speaking."
"This is Chief Slater, Tom. We've picked up Jake the Cat. Want to help us
question him?"
"I sure do! Give me fifteen minutes to get there!"
In his low-slung silver sports car, Tom made good time to Police
Headquarters. In the chief's office, Jake the Cat sat handcuffed on a hard,
straight-backed chair under a bright light. The swarthy burglar, wearing a high-
necked jersey, looked as lean and agile as a trapeze stunt man.
"Has he confessed?" Tom asked, after the chief had introduced him to the