Tom Swift and His Aerial Warship, or, the Naval Terror of the Seas by Victor [pseud.] Appleton
page 41 of 206 (19%)
page 41 of 206 (19%)
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"Oh, dear old dad!" exclaimed Tom affectionately. "I don't want to argue with him, but he's dead wrong!" "Then you are going to make a go of it?" "I sure am, Ned! All I have to solve is the recoil proposition, and, as soon as we get straightened out from this fire, we'll tackle that problem again--you and I. But I sure would like to know who put this in my red shed," and Tom looked in a puzzled manner at the empty fire bomb he still held. Tom paused, on his way to the house, to put the bomb in one of his offices. "No use letting dad know about this," he went on. "It would only be something else for him to worry about." "That's right," agreed Ned. By this time nearly all evidences of the fire, except for the blackened ruins of the shed, had been cleared away. High in the air hung a cloud of black smoke, caused by some chemicals that had burned harmlessly save for that pall. Tom Swift had indeed had a lucky escape. The young inventor, finding his father quieted down and conversing easily with Mr. Damon, who was blessing everything he could think of, motioned to Ned to follow him out of the house again. |
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