"Hurray! That's what I say!" cheered Ned.
"That's what I have been at work on lately. I'll give you
a little history of it, and then you may come inside and
have a ride home."
"In that?" cried Mr. Damon.
"Yes. I can't promise to move as speedily as your car, but
I can make better time than the British tanks. They go about
six miles an hour, I understand, and I've got mine geared to
ten. That's one improvement dad and I have made."
"Ride in that!" cried Mr. Nestor. "Tom, I like you, and
I'm glad to see I've been mistaken about you. You have been
doing your bit, after all; but--"
"Oh, I've only begun!" laughed Tom Swift.
"Well, no matter about that. However much I like you,"
went on Mr. Nestor, "I'd as soon ride on the wings of a
thunderbolt as in Tank A, Tom Swift."
"Oh, it isn't as bad as that!" laughed the young
scientist. "But neither is it a limousine. However, come
inside, anyhow, and I'll tell you something about it. Then
I guess we can guide it back. The men are repairing the
break."
The visitors entered the great craft through the door by
which Tom had emerged.
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