wave in front of the whale had subsided, he pressed the button.

If those watching him expected to hear a loud report, and see a
flash of flame, they were disappointed. There was absolutely no
sound, but what happened to the whale was most surprising.

The great animal stopped short amid a swirl of foam, and the next
instant it seemed to disintegrate. It went all to pieces, just as
had the dummy figure which Tom on one occasion fired at with his
rifle and as had the big packing-cases. The whale appeared to
dissolve, as does a lump of sugar in a cup of hot tea, and, five
seconds after Tom Swift had fired his electric gun, there was not a
sign of the monster save a little blood on the calm sea.

"What--what happened?" asked the captain in bewilderment. "Is--is
that monster gone?"

"Completely gone!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my powder horn, Tom, but
I knew you could do it!"

"Is that a new kind of whale gun, firing an explosive bullet?"
inquired the commander, as he came down off the bridge and shook
hands with Tom. "If it is, I'd like to buy one. We may be rammed
again by another whale."

"This is my new, electric rifle," explained the young inventor
modestly, "and it fires wireless charges of electricity instead of
bullets. I'm sorry I can't let you have it, as it's the only one I
have. But I guess no more whales will ram us. That one was evidently
crazed by the attack of the killer, and doubtless took us for