"I tell you, that Tom Swift is a wonder!"
"Bless my dictionary, he sure is!" agreed Mr. Damon.
Along the road, back toward the shop whence it had
emerged, rumbled the tank. The noise brought to their doors
inhabitants along the country thoroughfare, and some of them
were frightened when they saw Tom Swift's latest war
machine, the details of which they could only guess at in
the darkness.
"She'll butt over a house if it gets in her path, knock
down trees, chew up barbed-wire, and climb down into ravines
and out again, and go over a good-sized stream without a
whimper," said Tom, as he steered the great machine.
There was little chance then for Ned to see much of the
inside mechanism of the tank. He observed that Tom, standing
in the forward tower, steered it very easily by a small
wheel or by a lever, alternately, and that he communicated
with the engine room by means of electric signals.
"And she steers by electricity, too," Tom told his friend.
"That was one difficulty with the first tanks. They had to
be steered by brute force, so to speak, and it was a
terrific strain on the man in the tower.
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