As Tom turned to go into the house, the unsettled look
still on his face, some one hailed him.
"I say, Tom. Hello! Wait a minute! I've got something to
show you!"
"Oh, hello, Ned Newton!" Called back the young inventor.
"Well, if it's Liberty Bonds, you don't need to show me any,
for dad and I will buy all we can without seeing them."
"I know that, Tom, and it was a dandy subscription you
gave me. I didn't come about that, though I may be around
the next time Uncle Sam wants the people to dig down in
their socks. This is something different," and Ned Newton, a
young banker of Shopton and a lifelong friend of Tom's, drew
a paper from his pocket as he advanced across the lawn.
"There, Tom Swift!" he cried, flipping out an illustrated
page, evidently from some illustrated newspaper. "There's
the very latest from the other side. A London banker friend
of mine sent it to me, and it got past the censor all right.
It's the first authentic photograph of the newest and
biggest British tank. Isn't that a wonder?"
Ned held up the paper which had in it a fullpage
photograph of a monster tank--those weird machines traveling
on endless steel belts of caterpillar construction, armored,
riveted and plated, with machine guns bristling here and
there.
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