Read Online Tom Swift and His Triphibian Atomicar by Victor Appleton II - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Victor Appleton II
Ads: Link
in public being followed," Sandy added. "We’re very used to it."
Mirza took the bait. He edged toward the open door of the van. As he bent forward slightly to glance inside, Chow’s gnarled fist shot out in a whirling uppercut!
The punch caught Mirza on his outthrust chin. He tottered backward and Ed dived at his legs in a tackle that brought the man crashing to the ground. Before Mirza could bring his revolver into play, Tom wrested the gun from his hand.
"Don’t try any stunts!" Tom warned.
Said Bashalli mockingly, "The stunts are to be all on our side! Unfair, is it not?"
Mirza struggled like a madman, but Ed and Chow pinned him relentlessly to the ground by the power of muscle and unforgiving gravity. Tom quickly got a length of rope from the van, and Mirza was finally subdued and bound.
"Brand my tumbleweed soup!" Chow panted, when it was all over. "Back in the noose! Yuh’d think the critter would learn."
Mirza gasped out a torrent of abuse in his native language. Several times his listeners caught the word "Shaitan."
Tom asked Bashalli if she could understand any of it. "A little bit," she replied. "Most of which I shall not venture. I am too refined. As to the rest, it appears he is unhappy with you and rather upset. And he advises the devil to shift his curse onto your shoulders, Thomas."
"Let’s jest hope he ain’t listenin’," declared Chow nervously.
Tom made use of the van’s dashboard phone. Soon a State Police car arrived. The sergeant in charge tried to question Mirza, but the prisoner gave only raving, disconnected replies.
"Beware! The Amir’s ruby must be returned to Kabulistan, or hurled into the depths of the sea!" he stormed. "If not, the curse of Shaitan and his afrites will fall upon you!"
"I guess that’s all we’re likely to get out of Mirza," Tom murmured. "Might as well show him his cell, officer."
The sergeant agreed in disgust. "I’d say this guy belongs in a padded cell."
After Tom put some gasoline into the van’s tank from the police car’s emergency supply, he and his companions continued on to the Citadel.
"Tom, do you suppose Mirza really believes in that silly curse?" Bash asked a few moments later. "Or was the whole thing just an act?"
"If you ask me, he was just covering up to keep from answering questions," Ed Longstreet said flatly.
Tom agreed. "For all we know, he may still be working for Flambo!"
Sandy shuddered. "If that business about the curse was just an act, he deserves an Oscar!"
For a thoughtful moment Tom did not comment. Then he said: "Frankly, I’m not worried about any ‘curse.’ But there is something I wonder about. We would have left Taos a lot sooner if we hadn’t spent a long dinner chatting with Orton Throme."
"You’re thinking he might be in league with Mirza?" asked Ed in surprise.
"What I’m thinking is, that extra time allowed Mirza to do a number on our car after it got dark."
"Never did trust them artistic types!" snorted Chow. "No offense, Bashalalli. Jest mean the men."
The next day Tom reported the incident to Citadel security and by phone to Harlan Ames. He soon forgot about Mirza and the attempted burglary as he plunged back to work in his laboratory. A study of the new isotope’s atomic characteristics had sparked a different train of thought.
"Maybe I’ve been thinking too narrowly," he said to Bud Barclay. "Why think in terms of a miniaturized atomic reactor in the first place?"
Bud grinned. "Because otherwise you wouldn’t be able to call it an atomicar?"
The young inventor laughed. "But there may be an entirely different way to utilize atomic reactions to produce power." Tom explained to Bud that, some time previous, he had run across a report in an internet journal concerning a novel theoretical approach to using neutron decomposition to induce electric current. "In fact, we were given permission to repeat the article on our own website, ForeSite . This was back when I was trying to solve the power
Mirza took the bait. He edged toward the open door of the van. As he bent forward slightly to glance inside, Chow’s gnarled fist shot out in a whirling uppercut!
The punch caught Mirza on his outthrust chin. He tottered backward and Ed dived at his legs in a tackle that brought the man crashing to the ground. Before Mirza could bring his revolver into play, Tom wrested the gun from his hand.
"Don’t try any stunts!" Tom warned.
Said Bashalli mockingly, "The stunts are to be all on our side! Unfair, is it not?"
Mirza struggled like a madman, but Ed and Chow pinned him relentlessly to the ground by the power of muscle and unforgiving gravity. Tom quickly got a length of rope from the van, and Mirza was finally subdued and bound.
"Brand my tumbleweed soup!" Chow panted, when it was all over. "Back in the noose! Yuh’d think the critter would learn."
Mirza gasped out a torrent of abuse in his native language. Several times his listeners caught the word "Shaitan."
Tom asked Bashalli if she could understand any of it. "A little bit," she replied. "Most of which I shall not venture. I am too refined. As to the rest, it appears he is unhappy with you and rather upset. And he advises the devil to shift his curse onto your shoulders, Thomas."
"Let’s jest hope he ain’t listenin’," declared Chow nervously.
Tom made use of the van’s dashboard phone. Soon a State Police car arrived. The sergeant in charge tried to question Mirza, but the prisoner gave only raving, disconnected replies.
"Beware! The Amir’s ruby must be returned to Kabulistan, or hurled into the depths of the sea!" he stormed. "If not, the curse of Shaitan and his afrites will fall upon you!"
"I guess that’s all we’re likely to get out of Mirza," Tom murmured. "Might as well show him his cell, officer."
The sergeant agreed in disgust. "I’d say this guy belongs in a padded cell."
After Tom put some gasoline into the van’s tank from the police car’s emergency supply, he and his companions continued on to the Citadel.
"Tom, do you suppose Mirza really believes in that silly curse?" Bash asked a few moments later. "Or was the whole thing just an act?"
"If you ask me, he was just covering up to keep from answering questions," Ed Longstreet said flatly.
Tom agreed. "For all we know, he may still be working for Flambo!"
Sandy shuddered. "If that business about the curse was just an act, he deserves an Oscar!"
For a thoughtful moment Tom did not comment. Then he said: "Frankly, I’m not worried about any ‘curse.’ But there is something I wonder about. We would have left Taos a lot sooner if we hadn’t spent a long dinner chatting with Orton Throme."
"You’re thinking he might be in league with Mirza?" asked Ed in surprise.
"What I’m thinking is, that extra time allowed Mirza to do a number on our car after it got dark."
"Never did trust them artistic types!" snorted Chow. "No offense, Bashalalli. Jest mean the men."
The next day Tom reported the incident to Citadel security and by phone to Harlan Ames. He soon forgot about Mirza and the attempted burglary as he plunged back to work in his laboratory. A study of the new isotope’s atomic characteristics had sparked a different train of thought.
"Maybe I’ve been thinking too narrowly," he said to Bud Barclay. "Why think in terms of a miniaturized atomic reactor in the first place?"
Bud grinned. "Because otherwise you wouldn’t be able to call it an atomicar?"
The young inventor laughed. "But there may be an entirely different way to utilize atomic reactions to produce power." Tom explained to Bud that, some time previous, he had run across a report in an internet journal concerning a novel theoretical approach to using neutron decomposition to induce electric current. "In fact, we were given permission to repeat the article on our own website, ForeSite . This was back when I was trying to solve the power
Similar Books
