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Appleton, Victor [pseud.]

"Tom Swift and His War Tank, or, Doing His Bit for Uncle Sam"


"I'm going through that, too!" cried Tom.
And he did, knocking it down and sending his tank over the
piled-up ruins, while the machine guns barked, coughed and
spluttered, as Ned and the others inside the tank held back
the firing levers.
Right through the opposite wall, as through the one she
had already demolished, the tank careened on her way, to
emerge, rather battered and dust-covered, on the other side
of what was left of the factory. And there was not much of
it left. Tank A had well-nigh completed its demolition.
"If there'd been a nest of Germans in there," said Tom, as
he brought the machine to a stop in a field beyond the
factory, "they'd have gotten out in a hurry."
"Or taken the consequences," added Ned, as he wiped the
sweat from his powder-blackened and oil-smeared face. "I
certainly kept my gun going."
"Yes, and so did the others," reported one of the
mechanics, as he emerged from the "cubby hole," where the
great motors had now ceased their hum and roar.
"How'd she stand it?" asked Tom.
"All right inside," answered the man.


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