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Updated: June 18, 2025
"I'll organize a search right away. Where are you calling from?" "Police headquarters at Sandbank." "Okay. Take it easy, and I'll send a whirlybird to pick you up," Tom promised. "And don't forget some clothes," Bud added with a chuckle. "Mel and I are getting chilly." "Right!" Tom hung up and gave Arv Hanson a quick briefing. Then he phoned the base airfield to dispatch a helicopter.
The next morning at the plant Tom called on Harlan Ames. He told of the sinister hoax by the caller who had passed himself off as Lester Morris. The security chief promised to investigate. "I'll tip off the police about Len Unger," Ames added. "If they can find him, we may be able to crack this case wide open." Tom telephoned Bud, Hank Sterling, and Arv Hanson to meet him at the helijet hangar.
Tom said the device would be carried in a small case, hooked to the diver's belt, with a single tuning-knob control. The "throttle" or speed control for the ion drive would be housed in the same unit. "I can't wait to try out the new diving gear," Bud said excitedly. By four o'clock Tom had the apparatus perfected, and turned it over to Arv Hanson for fast duplication.
There were bins along the walls, some partly full of oranges, and piles of wicker baskets. Another conveyer dome stood beside the one in which they had arrived; two men in white cloaks and riding boots sat on the edge of one of the bins, smoking and talking. Skordran Kirv introduced them Gathon Dard and Krador Arv, special detectives and asked if anything new had come up.
As the Sea Hound streaked alongside the Flying Lab, two figures in the seacopter's flight compartment waved to Tom and Bud. One was Hank Sterling, the blond, square-jawed chief pattern-making engineer of Enterprises. The other was husky Arv Hanson, a talented craftsman who transformed the blueprints of Tom's inventions into working models. "All set," Hank radioed. "Lead the way." "Roger!"
She gave me a kiss then that told me something of what was in her heart, and went away into the house. "Goin' t' surround us," said Arv Law "thet 's whut 's th' matter." "Mus' be ready t' rassle 'em any minute," said Asher Eastman, as he sidled over to a little group. A young man came out of the house and took his place in line with a big squirt-gun and a pail of steaming-hot water.
His only hope now was that a radio message from the jetmarine might have been picked up while they were gone. As soon as the seacopter was moored, Tom leaped ashore. The crewmen on the docks had no news to report, so Tom piled into a jeep with Arv and sped off to the Fearing communications center. Hank remained aboard the Sea Hound to secure all gear.
"I don't get it," Arv Hanson spoke up. "If they're in firing range, we should have detected them, shouldn't we?" Tom nodded grimly. "Whoever our enemies are, they must have perfected a way to make themselves invisible to underwater detection. "And we'll have to do the same!" he vowed inwardly. Aloud, Tom said, "I hate to run from those sneaks, but if we stick around, we'll be asking for trouble."
Soon after lunch, Tom, Bud, and Arv took off for Fearing Island. When they arrived at the base, the plastic coating with its myriad tiny "mikes" and "speakers" was speedily applied to a jetmarine under Arv's supervision. Tom, meanwhile, wired the control unit and also installed the analyzer sonar in the Sea Hound. "Want to be 'It' for another underwater game of hide-and-seek?"
After snatching a hasty lunch, Tom returned to work. Arv Hanson machined several parts and molded the plastic face mask to Tom's specifications. By evening the new device was completed. "Now for a test," the young inventor said to himself. Sandy Swift and Phyl Newton were eager to watch the test, so the next morning they drove to the plant in Phyl's white convertible.
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