"Eh? Oh, yes, my dear. I was forgetting again."
There was a moment of merriment, and then, after the talk
had run for a while in other and safer channels, Mr. Damon
made the announcement:
"I think we're about there. We'll be at Tom's place when
we make the turn and--"
He was interrupted by a low, heavy rumbling.
"What's that?" asked Mr. Nestor.
"It's getting louder--the noise," remarked Mary. "It
sounds as if some big body were approaching down the road--the
tramp of many feet. Can it be that troops are marching away?"
"Bless my spark plug!" suddenly cried Mr. Damon. "Look!"
They gazed ahead, and there, seen in the glare of the
automobile headlights, was an immense, dark body approaching
them from across a level field. The rumble and roar became
more pronounced and the ground shook as though from an
earthquake.
A glaring light shone out from the ponderous moving body,
and above the roar and rattle a voice called:
"Out out of the way! We've lost control! Look out!"
"Bless my steering wheel!" gasped Mr. Damon,
"that was Tom Swift's voice! But what is he
doing in that--thing?"
"It must be his new invention!" exclaimed Ned.
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