Read Online Tom Swift and His Subocean Geotron by Victor Appleton II - Free Book Online
Authors: Victor Appleton II
Ads: Link
always robberies. We do not patrol there, and people are vulnerable."
"Cousin Ed’s more likely to be checked in to a comfortable hotel," Tom noted. "But the hotel never heard of him."
They walked on along the town’s main street, keeping to as much shade as they could find. Chief Jualéngro seemed thoughtful, and said at last:
"It’s true that there is only one nice hotel in Las Mambritas. But somewhat further down, near the beach—there is a little motel, a place for tourists who don’t care to sleep on the sand, but who can’t afford the niceties. The bungalows— casitas —may be rented for the season. It’s beyond the town line, and I tend to forget about it."
Tom nodded hopefully. "Let’s take a look."
"Today our patrol cars are all in use. Not far to walk, though."
"A walk is nothing for we three young men," boomed Nee. "And of course you are accustomed to it, madame."
She gave him a sharp look. "I never go there."
Bud leaned close to Tom and whispered, "But Ed does like adventure."
They began their trek, Chief Jualéngro slightly ahead. As they neared the edge of the town’s more modern district, Bud heard his pal moan quietly and noticed that he was shaking his head in wry disgust. "What’s the matter, Skipper?" Bud asked. "Leave the water running back on the Queen ?"
"When we pass that window up there, glance at the reflection—about a block back."
Bud glanced. "That man? Floral shirt?"
"He’s not a tourist."
"Trailing us?"
"Yeah, I think so," replied the young inventor. "He caught my eye. And you know something, flyboy? I’m sure I’ve seen him before!"
CHAPTER 7
A CASE OF UNKIDNAPPING
BUD BARCLAY slowed, drawing Tom back to allow Jualéngro and Ruykendahl to put in some distance. "Okay, tell me!" Bud hissed. "You mean you saw him in town earlier today?"
"I’m pretty sure he was in the lobby at the library, reading a newspaper, when we were talking to the staff. I didn’t pay attention. But I mean more than that, Bud," he went on in low tones. "I’m sure—well, I can almost feel that I’ve met him in a different context, a different place. Talked to him, even."
"But where?"
"My brain is working on it."
The two hastened forward and, without halting the group, told the Chief about the possible follower. " C’ba ! He surely has a big pair of audacities on him, trailing a uniformed officer. He can see that I’m armed."
Tom kept his eyes on Nee Ruykendahl’s face as he said, "He’s staying pretty far back, so I’d prefer to just keep walking for now. It may give us a clue as to what he has in mind."
"Yes, and indeed he may just be another tourist," agreed Jualéngro. "I love them, but they are bothersome like flies."
Bud noticed Tom’s gaze. He wonders if Nee and the guy are working together, the youth thought.
As they proceeded, now among old adobe-clad residences at the edge of Las Mambritas, the man behind dropped further behind, and suddenly he was no more to be seen.
"But be on your guard, boys," advised Nee. "In the jungles the prey that stalks you may circle around to the front."
At last, after a lengthy trek along the beach, they arrived at a sprawl of very elderly cottages and a sign in broken neon: Motor-Court Los Tres-Anos Especialidad.
"The years may be especial , but that sign has sure seen better days," Bud remarked.
"It has lost a good deal," stated Chief Jualéngro, "making the whole place a sour joke. In town we merely say ‘El Tres’ and look away."
There was something of an office, but nothing of an attendant at the counter—only an electric fan and a caged parrot, staring vacantly without greeting.
"Permit me to exercise some authority," stated Veracíta Jualéngro. She went behind the counter and leafed through the ledger she found there. "He was here!" she exclaimed. "Payment in cash—but this is weeks ago, upon arrival."
A young boy came rushing in. His indignation faded when he saw Jualéngro’s uniform. "Oh, Longstreet? Yes, the man
"Cousin Ed’s more likely to be checked in to a comfortable hotel," Tom noted. "But the hotel never heard of him."
They walked on along the town’s main street, keeping to as much shade as they could find. Chief Jualéngro seemed thoughtful, and said at last:
"It’s true that there is only one nice hotel in Las Mambritas. But somewhat further down, near the beach—there is a little motel, a place for tourists who don’t care to sleep on the sand, but who can’t afford the niceties. The bungalows— casitas —may be rented for the season. It’s beyond the town line, and I tend to forget about it."
Tom nodded hopefully. "Let’s take a look."
"Today our patrol cars are all in use. Not far to walk, though."
"A walk is nothing for we three young men," boomed Nee. "And of course you are accustomed to it, madame."
She gave him a sharp look. "I never go there."
Bud leaned close to Tom and whispered, "But Ed does like adventure."
They began their trek, Chief Jualéngro slightly ahead. As they neared the edge of the town’s more modern district, Bud heard his pal moan quietly and noticed that he was shaking his head in wry disgust. "What’s the matter, Skipper?" Bud asked. "Leave the water running back on the Queen ?"
"When we pass that window up there, glance at the reflection—about a block back."
Bud glanced. "That man? Floral shirt?"
"He’s not a tourist."
"Trailing us?"
"Yeah, I think so," replied the young inventor. "He caught my eye. And you know something, flyboy? I’m sure I’ve seen him before!"
CHAPTER 7
A CASE OF UNKIDNAPPING
BUD BARCLAY slowed, drawing Tom back to allow Jualéngro and Ruykendahl to put in some distance. "Okay, tell me!" Bud hissed. "You mean you saw him in town earlier today?"
"I’m pretty sure he was in the lobby at the library, reading a newspaper, when we were talking to the staff. I didn’t pay attention. But I mean more than that, Bud," he went on in low tones. "I’m sure—well, I can almost feel that I’ve met him in a different context, a different place. Talked to him, even."
"But where?"
"My brain is working on it."
The two hastened forward and, without halting the group, told the Chief about the possible follower. " C’ba ! He surely has a big pair of audacities on him, trailing a uniformed officer. He can see that I’m armed."
Tom kept his eyes on Nee Ruykendahl’s face as he said, "He’s staying pretty far back, so I’d prefer to just keep walking for now. It may give us a clue as to what he has in mind."
"Yes, and indeed he may just be another tourist," agreed Jualéngro. "I love them, but they are bothersome like flies."
Bud noticed Tom’s gaze. He wonders if Nee and the guy are working together, the youth thought.
As they proceeded, now among old adobe-clad residences at the edge of Las Mambritas, the man behind dropped further behind, and suddenly he was no more to be seen.
"But be on your guard, boys," advised Nee. "In the jungles the prey that stalks you may circle around to the front."
At last, after a lengthy trek along the beach, they arrived at a sprawl of very elderly cottages and a sign in broken neon: Motor-Court Los Tres-Anos Especialidad.
"The years may be especial , but that sign has sure seen better days," Bud remarked.
"It has lost a good deal," stated Chief Jualéngro, "making the whole place a sour joke. In town we merely say ‘El Tres’ and look away."
There was something of an office, but nothing of an attendant at the counter—only an electric fan and a caged parrot, staring vacantly without greeting.
"Permit me to exercise some authority," stated Veracíta Jualéngro. She went behind the counter and leafed through the ledger she found there. "He was here!" she exclaimed. "Payment in cash—but this is weeks ago, upon arrival."
A young boy came rushing in. His indignation faded when he saw Jualéngro’s uniform. "Oh, Longstreet? Yes, the man
Similar Books
