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The young inventor nodded. "Yes, as soon as I've perfected all the gear I'll need which won't be long, I hope." Ames added, unhappily, that certain papers and news commentators had been making snide remarks about the Swifts' failure to match the Brungarians' submarine achievement. "I think Tom has that situation pretty well in hand," Mr. Swift remarked with a smile.
Then he hurried back to the car. Bud frowned upon hearing Tom's story. "Do you think he's on the level?" Tom shrugged as they headed out into the countryside. "I may be wrong, but the whole thing sounded fishy." "Now look!" Sandy said severely. "If we're going to enjoy this hike, we're not going to talk about Brungarians or inventions or that lost missile.
"Another message from Bud. He says the object dug up by the Brungarians was not the missile. It appeared to be the metal section of a ship's prow, from some hulk buried in the silt!" Tom was jubilant. "Terrific news, Dad! Our luck may be turning!" At the rocket base Tom detailed crews for the three undersea craft which were to take off on the expedition.
"Are the men Americans?" he asked. "I doubt it," Tom said. "They speak English well enough, but with a faint accent. Somehow, I have a hunch they're Brungarians." Ames whistled. "That could spell trouble, skipper." More than once, Brungarian rebel agents had engaged in brazen plots against America and the Swifts. "Let's hope I'm wrong," Tom said wryly.
"I've been thinking," the young inventor went on, "that it might be smart to have Mirov released." "Released!" Ames gasped in surprise. "But why, skipper?" "Well ... er ... as a good-will gesture," Tom said. "I think it might prevent future trouble with the Brungarians, don't you?" "I do not!" Ames exploded. "The idea sounds crazy!" "I don't think it's too crazy or too risky," Tom argued.
I'll join you later but first," Tom added mysteriously, "I have another job to attend to." Bud's curiosity was instantly aroused. "Don't tell me you have a new trick up your nautical sleeve to fox the Brungarians?" Tom grinned. "That's the general idea. I hope to give hydrolung divers the same protection that your jetmarine has." "You mean make them invisible to sonar?"
"Don't you ever give that brain of yours a rest?" "Oh, hi, Bud!" Tom looked around absent-mindedly. "I'm just trying to figure out a way to crack the Brungarians' antisonar system." "Good night!" Bud sank down on a lab stool. "You've come up with a way to make our own subs undetectable. Isn't that enough?" Tom shook his head. "Not if we want to keep track of those sneaks.
Instead, Cox went on, the mysterious craft had proceeded to a point about ten miles offshore where it rendezvoused with another submarine. "And get this, skipper!" Mack Avery put in. "The other sub was undetectable! We were close enough to get a peek at it, but we couldn't ping it on the sonarscope." "That figures," Tom said grimly. "Those frogmen were apparently Brungarians."
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