TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
BY VICTOR APPLETON II
No. 3 in the Tom Swift Jr. series.

From the inside cover:
The third volume of the new TOM SWIFT JR. series takes the brilliant young 
inventor into outer space in a rocket ship oŁ his own design.
On Fearing Island just off the Atlantic Coast, Tom's space craft project 
attracts the attention oŁ the spies and agents of a foreign scientist whose plan is 
to rule the world and space.
Tom Swift's advantage over his competitors is that he has perfected a rocket 
fuel which can carry his ship into and out of orbital flight. But it takes all of Tom 
and Bud's ingenuity to outwit the ruthless efforts of the foreign scientist and his 
desperate gang of henchmen.
The flight through space makes thrilling reading-the more exciting because 
you know the details of the flight are scientifically accurate.
Readers of TOM SWIFT JR. AND HIS FLYING LAB, the first book of this 
new series, will recall the message that came in the shape of a meteorlike object 
falling into the Swift plant enclosure. In. this story another message from the 
same mysterious source proves very valuable to Tom as he is flying through 
space.


The Tom Swift Jr. series:
1 Tom Swift and his Flying Lab (1954) 
2 Tom Swift and his Jetmarine (1954) 
3 Tom Swift and his Rocket Ship (1954) 
4 Tom Swift and his Giant Robot (1954) 
5 Tom Swift and his Atomic Earth Blaster (1954) 
6 Tom Swift and his Outpost in Space (1955) 
7 Tom Swift and his Diving Seacopter (1956) 
8 Tom Swift in the Caves of Nuclear Fire (1956) 
9 Tom Swift on the Phantom Satellite (1956) 
10 Tom Swift and his Ultrasonic Cycloplane (1957) 
11 Tom Swift and his Deep-Sea Hydrodome (1958) 
12 Tom Swift in the Race to the Moon (1958) 
13 Tom Swift and his Space Solartron (1958) 
14 Tom Swift and his Electronic Retroscope (1959) 
15 Tom Swift and his Spectromarine Selector (1960) 
16 Tom Swift and the Cosmic Astronauts (1960) 
17 Tom Swift and the Visitor from Planet X (1961) 
18 Tom Swift and the Electronic Hydrolung (1961) 
19 Tom Swift and his Triphibian Atomicar (1962) 
20 Tom Swift and his Megascope Space Prober (1962) 
21 Tom Swift and the Asteroid Pirates (1963) 
22 Tom Swift and his Repelatron Skyway (1963) 
23 Tom Swift and his Aquatomic Tracker (1964) 
24 Tom Swift and his 3D Telejector (1964) 
25 Tom Swift and his Polar-Ray Dynasphere (1965) 
26 Tom Swift and his Sonic Boom Trap (1965) 
27 Tom Swift and his Subocean Geotron (1966) 
28 Tom Swift and the Mystery Comet (1966) 
29 Tom Swift and the Captive Planetoid (1967) 
30 Tom Swift and his G-Force Inverter (1968) 
31 Tom Swift and his Dyna-4 Capsule (1969) 
32 Tom Swift and his Cosmotron Express (1970) 
33 Tom Swift and the Galaxy Ghosts (1971)


ILLUSTRATED BY GRAHAM KAYE
GROSSET & DUNLAP
COPYRIGHT, 1954, BY GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA


CONTENTS
1 A Vanished Pilot
2 The Fuel Kicker
3 Following a Clue
4 The First Test
5 Sabotage
6 The Rocket Launching
7 A Crack-Up
8 Stowaways
9 An Inventive Escape
10 A Robot at Work
11 A Coded Threat
12 Dangerous Acid
13 A Startling Ascent
14 Emergency Orders
15 An Attempted Theft
16 Operation Shuttle
17 An Important Capture
18 Zero-Hour Interruption!
19 Sealed Instruments
20 Ghost Winds
21 An Unexpected Mishap
22 Messages from Space
23 Ominous Signs
24 An Attack
25 A Record Victory


ILLUSTRATIONS
He could easily be spun off into space!
Floodlights had been switched on the instant the robots had veered toward 
the intruding plane 
"Turn around! Quick!" the stranger growled
Leaping onto the ladder of the acid tank, Tom pursued the fanatical saboteur
With a catlike movement Tom hurled himself at Johnson
The strange convoy glided past the guarding robots toward the airstrip
As Tom watched in consternation, Bud exclaimed, "The rocket ship! It's 
launched itself!"
"That's Chow!" Tom cried suddenly
The crew leaped into action, shooting chemicals upon the flames that 
threatened the Star Spear
As Rotzog's ship closed in on the Star Spear, Tom opened the kicker wide



CHAPTER 1
A VANISHED PILOT

"SOMEBODY'S FLYING into our restricted area!" Tom Swift cried as an 
alarm bell broke the midnight stillness of his rocket laboratory on Fearing Island.
The blond, eighteen-year-old scientist, tall and rangy, laid two wrenches 
beside the freshly machined, titanium metal column-the heart of the rocket-on 
which he had been working. Turning to a husky, dark-haired youth standing 
beside him, he said:
"Hurry, Bud! Switch on the patrolscope!"
Tense with excitement, Bud Barclay reached up to the wall and flicked a 
switch beneath a large screen. Three green points of light were moving clockwise 
in a large circle. Suddenly one of them made a beeline toward a small white dot.
"Our drone planes are after the pilot!" Bud exclaimed.
Each of the pilotless jets carried an amazing mechanism called the landing 
forcer, an invention of Tom's. This instrument, directed from a beeper box in the 
control tower, could capture and steer intruding planes to Fearing's airstrip.
"This might be an attack to wreck our rocket base!" Bud cried.
"Let's get moving!" Tom urged, dashing toward the door.
As the boys ran from the building Tom took a quick glance at two rocket 
ships which stood out against the night sky. One was a pilotless dummy for a test 
run; the other was a needle-nosed giant in which Tom and Bud hoped to conquer 
space.
The wailing of the siren system shrieked over the sandy island. Immense 
floodlights had been switched
robots had veered toward the intruding plane
4 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
on the instant the robots had veered toward the intruding plane. The glare 
nearly blinded the boys as they stared upward over the center of the island.
"It's a small cabin plane-in a terrific power dive!" Tom cried.
"The interceptor drone has made contact," Bud said elatedly. "It's forcing the 
plane down!"
Leaping into a jeep, both boys sped past the two multistage rockets.
"Say, Tom," Bud asked, "you don't suppose that pilot was making a suicide 
attempt to wreck the rocket ships?"
"Possibly," Tom replied. "Certainly all licensed pilots know that this is a 
restricted area."
As the boys roared along the road to the airfield at the east end of the three-
mile-long island, the sound of the sirens tapered to a hum.
"They're landing!" Bud cried.
Tom stopped the jeep and the two boys jumped out. Dead ahead, the fiery 
red glow of the robot's light outlined the captive plane as both craft banked in 
side by side. Tom and Bud watched tensely as the drone, only half the size of the 
intercepted plane, taxied in with its prize.
The instant the planes stopped, Tom and Bud hurried forward. Tom forced 
open the cabin door and peered in. The next moment, he drew back and cried:
"The plane's empty!"
"Empty!" Bud echoed. "Maybe it's radio-controlled."
A VANISHED PILOT 5
"No, this is an ordinary commercial job," Tom replied. "Bud, I believe the pilot 
bailed out before the robot intercepted the plane!"
"There's a chance, then, that he's out on the water and may swim to the 
island!" Bud said.
"A very good chance," Tom replied grimly. "We'll search every bit of beach."
From the hangar he phoned the control tower to sound the alarm which 
would start an all-out search of the island and the surrounding waters.
"I'll take a copter up," Bud said, and ran toward one of the fast, new 
helicopters.
Speedboats roared into action from the north and south docks, and streaked 
away from the cone of light that covered the island. They started zigzagging, 
sweeping the choppy sea with their searchlights.
Meanwhile, on the south beach, Tom, carrying a walkie-talkie to keep in 
touch with his men, led a ground search party. It included Hank Sterling, chief 
engineer of the patternmaking division of Swift Enterprises, whose great skill was 
indispensable to the precision job of rocket building. Tom had moved most of his 
rocket staff from the Swift Enterprises plant on the mainland, a four-mile-square 
enclosure of modern laboratories and factories where he and his father carried 
on their experiments.
Hank scanned the sky. "The plane was coming in a southerly direction," he 
said, "so if my theory's correct, the pilot will be heading for this side."
"Right!" Tom agreed.
Tom Swift, the nation's youngest rocket expert,
6 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
had set up the robot defense on this Atlantic coastal island after entering the 
world-wide rocket building race. He hoped to be the first person to pilot a rocket 
into space and circle the earth in a two-hour orbital flight.
The International Rocket Society had formalized the contest by offering a 
one-hundred-thousand-dollar prize. When rocket research teams in several 
countries signified their intention to participate, the Defense Department had co-
operated by declaring the thumb-shaped island to be a restricted area.
"Some of you comb the ground a few yards inshore," Tom suggested. "That 
pilot could be hiding behind one of the low dunes."
"You're right," Hank replied. "Some of those spots provide real foxholes."
Tom's search party fanned out and extended the hunt westward. Bud was 
cruising a short distance offshore, beaming a giant searchlight downward from 
the helicopter.
Suddenly Tom's walkie-talkie crackled and Bud's voice came excitedly from 
the helicopter. "I've just spotted him! He's almost at the shore. Looks all in."
Rushing to the beach, the searchers followed the beam from the helicopter 
and spotted the swimmer. The man was trying to combat a heavy surf and was 
obviously tiring fast. As the stranger's strength failed, Tom kicked off his shoes, 
made a long dive into the waves, and with strong strokes soon reached the 
helpless swimmer.
Holding the stranger's head above water, he
A VANISHED PILOT 7
brought him to shore. The man, wearing only shorts and shirt, gave a great 
sigh, then collapsed on the sand. All efforts to revive him were unsuccessful.
"We'd better carry him to the infirmary and let Dr. Carman take charge," Tom 
commented.
Sterling offered to attend to him while Tom went to his room for dry clothing. 
After he had changed, Tom returned to the hangar to meet Bud. When the 
helicopter had been berthed, Tom proposed that the boys investigate the 
mysterious plane brought in by the robot.
"Sure thing," Bud replied. "There might even be a logbook that will tell us who 
this guy is. But what I can't understand is when and why he jumped."
"Because he figured that swimming in was the only chance he had of getting 
on the island," Tom said. "Our radar picks up boats, so he couldn't have used 
that method of landing."
When the boys reached the plane they found a logbook in one of the 
compartments in the panel board.
"Boston. Eleven p.m.," Bud read, looking over Tom's shoulder. "Edward 
Gates, pilot."
"Call the dispatcher there and check this, will you, Bud?" Tom said. "I'm 
going to alert Dad at Shop-ton."
Tom quickly telephoned a private number at the Swift Enterprises plant. He 
asked the operator to put the call through to his home. The elder inventor 
answered.
"What's the matter, Tom?"
"I think it's a sabotage attempt, Dad, but every-
8 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
thing is under control." Tom explained briefly and added, "Our enemies might 
strike at Shopton too. Better use extra guards."
"Okay, son. Be careful."
When Tom hung up, Bud was still on the line to Boston Airport. Checking the 
log, he was told that the time of departure listed was precisely the same as the 
dispatcher's record. Bud questioned the dispatcher further about the plane's 
occupant.
"I'd never seen him or his friend at the field before," the dispatcher said.
"His friend?" Bud echoed. "The log lists only the pilot, Edward Gates!" He 
told of the single rescue. "Did he have an unlisted passenger?"
"He may have."
The dispatcher was able to give only a general description of Gates and his 
unknown companion, but added that Gates spoke with a slight accent and was 
the taller of the two. Both were dark and of medium build. Bud thanked the man, 
hung up, and told Tom the startling news.
"Bud! On the double!" the inventor cried. "Get the search party out again! 
There may be another swimmer coming in. Or he may already be on the island. 
Warn the guards at the rocket ships and at the lab."
"Where are you going?" Bud asked, as Tom started off.
"Back to the beach."
"Not by yourself," Bud cried. "Hold on, inventor boy. You're too important 
around here to be bumped off."
A VANISHED PILOT 9
Tom paused while Bud gave instructions over the loud-speaker for a 
renewed search. Then, while the sirens wailed once more, the two boys jumped 
into the jeep and headed for the beach.
Bud, riding on the carrier behind Tom, gripped the spotlight and swung it 
slowly. The bright beam, shaken by the speeding jeep, moved jerkily along the 
dunes.
"Tom, look!" Bud cried suddenly. "I just caught a man in the spot beam. He 
threw himself down the minute the light struck him!"
Tom swung the wheel, and without slackening speed, hurtled the jeep toward 
the place where Bud was pointing. A hundred yards ahead of them, a dark-haired 
man, his shirt soaked and his trousers clinging to his skin, crouched in the sand.
CHAPTER 2
THE FUEL KICKER
TOM AND BUD jumped from the jeep and ran toward the half-hidden, 
bedraggled figure. The man held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"I know I'm on restricted ground," he said in a deep voice with a slight foreign 
accent. "But my life is more important than anything else."
The boys were a bit taken aback by this speech. If the man had made an 
honest error he had nothing to fear.
"Are you Ed Gates?" Tom asked sharply.
The stranger gave a start, then replied, "Why- uh-yes. How did you know?"
"From your log."
"My plane crashed on the island?" the pilot questioned as if he could not 
believe it.
"We brought it in," Tom replied, without explaining how. "Why were you flying 
in a restricted air zone?"
10
THE FUEL KICKER 11
"Something went wrong. I couldn't bank away, so I bailed out."
Tom and Bud exchanged quick looks. Had the stranger really flown toward 
the island by accident? The young inventor gave the flier his sweater and helped 
him into the jeep.
"We'll see that you get transportation to the mainland," Tom said. "Where are 
you from?"
"Cincinnati. I fly business planes for the Midwest Steel Corporation."
As the jeep approached the airstrip, Gates asked, "What happened to my 
plane?"
"Don't worry about your plane," Tom replied. "Aren't you interested in what 
happened to your passenger?"
Gates' face quivered. He gulped. "Passenger?" he repeated.
"Yes. You had another person aboard, although you neglected to log his 
name."
The pilot hesitated for several seconds before asking, "Was he picked up?"
"Yes," Tom answered. "But he's in bad shape."
Gates bent forward and clutched his head with both hands, as if overcome 
with remorse. He kept muttering, "It's all my fault, it's all my fault!"
"Why did you fail to enter your friend's name in the log?" Tom asked.
"Because he wanted to keep the trip a secret from his family," Gates said 
quickly.
"What's your passenger's name and where's he from?" Tom asked.
12 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"Arthur Drayton-a salesman from Chicago," the flier replied. "I've flown him 
several times."
"Have you your license and other credentials?"
"Right here," the pilot said, slapping his right hand against an oilskin pouch 
inside his soaking wet shirt.
"Good. We'll have a look at them soon," Tom said. "By the way, why did you 
both bail out? That wasn't necessary."
"We thought so. A plane came right at us, so we parachuted," Gates replied.
Since Gates apparently had not tried to dodge the robot, Tom's suspicions 
were aroused again. As they drove into the hangar, the flier appeared to be very 
nervous. His hand trembled as he passed over his credentials to Tom.
Everything seemed to be in order, except that there was no photograph of 
the man. When Tom queried him about this, he replied that he was having a new 
one made and had thrown the old picture away.
"I'll leave at once and take Drayton with me," Gates announced as soon as 
he had been given dry clothing.
Tom told him that the island's doctor was taking care of his friend Drayton, 
who would be moved to the mainland as soon as he was able to travel.
"But I want him to go with me," Gates said, growing belligerent. "You have no 
right to keep him here."
THE FUEL KICKER 13
"An unconscious man doesn't have much choice," Tom retorted.
Suspicious of the whole episode and wishing to get the stranger away from 
the rocket project, Tom insisted that Gates depart at once.
"Drayton may come to any time now," Gates objected. "I ought to get him to 
a specialist on the mainland."
Tom decided the matter by telephoning the infirmary. Dr. Carman reported 
that the strain of combating the rough surf had taxed the patient's heart and he 
must not be moved under any circumstances.
"I guess that settles it, Gates," Tom said with finality. "We'll gas up your plane 
if you need it, and you can go-with an escort."
Gates frowned as Tom whispered to Bud. The latter dashed off, and returned 
in a few minutes with a stocky blond man about thirty years old.
"This is Phil Radnor of our security police," Tom said, introducing him to 
Gates.
Radnor nodded, looked levelly at Gates, and said, "I'll accompany you to 
your destination."
"You'll what?" the other man gasped, turning scarlet.
"Routine rule of this place to escort unwanted visitors off the island," Radnor 
said. "Come on!"
Gates looked from one to another, then shrugged. With the intruder safely in 
the custody of Radnor, Tom and Bud walked off. Bud went at once to the small 
house which was headquarters for the boys and
14 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
for Tom's father whenever he came to Fearing. Chow, the Texas ex-chuck-
wagon cook who spent part of his time on expeditions with the young inventor, 
prepared the meals.
"Well, brand my rocket roost!" the chunky, good-natured cook exclaimed, 
opening the door. "Say, how kin you nighthawks do with so little sleep? Now 
down where I come from-"
"Yes, I know," Bud stopped him. "You mean you sleep all day and all night, 
too," he needled.
"Nothin* o' the sort," said the indignant cook. "Say, where's Tom?"
"He went to the lab to put the kicker to bed," Bud gibed. "Has to tie his 'baby' 
down for the night."
The kicker was a rocket-fuel energizer. It consisted of a yard-long section of 
ten-inch pipe, tapering at each end into the smaller piping of the fuel lines. The 
bulge was loosely packed with a metallic oxide catalyst and covered at both ends 
with platinum gauze niters.
Tom's invention, using an alcohol-liquid-oxygen fuel combination, was 
designed to absorb the hyper-powerful radiation of the sun and shoot this solar 
energy into the liquid-oxygen supply, converting it into highly explosive, 
poisonous, blue liquid ozone.
With the help of the kicker, Tom's fuel would be much more efficient than any 
other combination yet known. In addition to the enormous combustion heat of 
alcohol and liquid oxygen, he would get additional thrust from the decomposition 
of the ozone and would decrease mass ratio.
THE FUEL KICKER 15
Back at the laboratory, Tom was far from being sleepy. The excitement of the 
past hour had stimulated his thinking.
"This might be a good time to write up my daily record for Dad," he decided.
Tom, like all good scientists, kept a day-to-day record of his new ideas, the 
progress of his inventions, and his data and calculations. These records already 
filled several volumes. Part of it told the story of the building of his flying 
laboratory, Sky Queen, and his adventures while prospecting for radioactive ore 
in the Andes.
The record also logged his invention of a midget atomic submarine, the 
jetmarine, and the exciting times he and Bud had had in their encounter with 
Caribbean pirates.
Opening a small safe, Tom took out a thick, bound volume and a copy of the 
code both he and his father used. Since coming to Fearing Island, Tom had seen 
relatively little of his father. But he had kept especially detailed records about the 
rocket project, which Mr. Swift read whenever he visited his son.
"I feel confident now," Tom wrote in code, "that I'll be ready to launch the 
passenger rocket ship in ten days. I have made enough catalyst for the kicker, in 
spite of the rarity and the scarcity of the ingredients. Only the actual testing of the 
kicker remains to be done. If this test proves successful, I may have a chance to 
get the passenger rocket off ahead of our rivals."
Tom put the book and code away. Next, he un-
16 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
locked the fuel-kicker case and carried the instrument to his workbench.
The stillness of the night reminded him that it was late and that he was all 
alone. Tom suddenly became aware of what an easy target he would be for an 
unexpected attack. He got up and looked out the window. Seeing the guard 
walking his post near the main door, the young inventor shook off his uneasy 
mood.
He hooked in the pump that was designed to carry the liquid oxygen through 
the kicker. Next, he attached a flowmeter to the pump to register the speed of the 
liquid.
In rocket flight, oxygen would have to flow through the kicker at a rate of 
several thousand gallons per minute to satisfy the hungry motors. Should 
anything interfere with this flow, the rocket would cease to operate and founder in 
space.
After filling the unit with red-dyed water, Tom squatted in front of the glass 
window in the pump model to view the flow through the kicker. He flicked on the 
power and listened to the even whirring of the pump.
"It's perfect!" he murmured elatedly, as he watched the scarlet liquid bubbling 
through the unit.
Satisfied, Tom turned off the power. As the laboratory became deathly still 
again, Tom was aware of a slight noise in the adjacent lab. Thinking it might be 
one of the chemists back to shut off an experiment, Tom, eager for company, 
hurried into the room.
THE FUEL KICKER 17
The bright light of his laboratory revealed the intruder's face. Gates!
"Halt!" Tom shouted. Gates raced into the corridor with Tom after him. But 
before Tom lunged through the doorway, he pressed a button to sound the 
alarm. As it clanged, he looked up and down the corridor. There was no sign of 
the intruder.
"Gates must have ducked into the chemical-supplies room to hide," Tom 
decided. "There's no other possible place!"
Tom leaped into the dark supply room opposite his lab. Before he could snap 
on a light, a fist shot out and struck him. Tom lurched backward against a table 
with shelves. Flasks, condensers, and test tubes on it cascaded in all directions 
onto the concrete floor, shattering to bits.
Then everything became still. The only sound now was the drip of the acid off 
the shelves. A moment later Tom staggered to his feet and cautiously snapped 
on the light switch. No one was in the room but himself!
"Gates slipped out!" Tom groaned.
Realizing that the kicker now stood exposed as he had left it, Tom stepped 
quietly into the corridor. Then, treading as softly as he could, he entered his 
private laboratory.
Gates was bending over the kicker, trying to un* screw one of the pipes with 
a wrench.
Tom crept toward him noiselessly, tensing every muscle for a lunge at the 
intruder. Suddenly Gates straightened up and stared at the kicker. In its gleam-
18 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
ing surface he had seen the young inventor's reflection!
Tom leaped forward. At the same instant Gates swung around and hurled the 
wrench. Its handle hit Tom above his left ear.
He pitched to the floor, unconscious!
CHAPTER 3
FOLLOWING A CLUE
"TOM MUST BE in trouble!" Bud thought, as he jumped from bed and pulled 
on trousers and moccasins. "That warning was from the lab!"
As Bud dashed outside, he could see guards and sleepy-eyed engineers 
running to various posts. In the distance he could hear the whine of powerboats.
Bud ran straight to Tom's private workshop. There he found his friend lying 
limp, and for a horrifying second Bud thought that the young inventor was not 
breathing.
He bent down and grasped Tom's wrist lightly in his fingers. Feeling a strong, 
steady pulse, he whistled softly in relief. Bud broke a vial of aromatic spirits from 
the first-aid cabinet in the laboratory and waved it slowly under Tom's nose. 
Within a few seconds the young inventor's eyelids began to flicker. Bud lifted his 
friend onto a couch. Then Tom groaned, opened his eyes, and sat up.
19
20 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"The kicker!" were his first words.
To the boys' relief, the instrument stood where Tom had left it and a quick 
glance reassured them that Gates had not made away with any part of it. Over 
the loud-speaker system Tom explained what had happened, ending with:
"I guess the siren frightened Gates off. Otherwise, he would have taken the 
kicker."
At that instant the full import of what had taken place struck Bud. "Say, that 
double-crosser was supposed to take off with Radnor," he cried as the boys 
dashed outdoors.
"You're right," Tom said. "Before we do anything else, we'd better check on 
that. I have an idea Radnor got the same knockout treatment I did."
"No plane has taken off since the siren sounded," Bud told him.
As the boys stepped into the jeep, Hank Sterling hurried toward them. He 
said that the regular night guard at the laboratory building had been found 
slugged. No report had come in yet of his assailant having been captured.
Torn nodded and started the motor. He drove directly to the floodlighted 
airfield. Gates' plane still stood there.
Jumping from the car, Bud climbed up to the pilot's cabin. The boys' worst 
fears were confirmed. Radnor was slumped unconscious in his seat.
"We'd better get him to the infirmary quick!" Bud urged.
Tom lent a hand and they lifted the security offi-
FOLLOWING A CLUE 21
cer into the jeep. The young inventor drove Radnor to the island's small 
hospital, where Dr. Carman took charge.
"This has been a busy night," the physician remarked, beginning his 
examination of his latest patient. "Hm! Radnor is in serious condition from a blow 
on the head. I'm afraid, Tom, that you'll have to do without his services for a 
while."
Tom and Bud looked at each other, telegraphing the same message to each 
other. Gates was not going to escape punishment for his crimes!
Before leaving the infirmary, Tom asked how Drayton was. Dr. Carman said 
the man's condition was only fair and that they had not tried to make him talk.
"I think we'd better fly both Drayton and Radnor by copter to a hospital on the 
mainland tomorrow morning," the physician stated, then added, "Tom, let me put 
some antiseptic on that baseball you're wearing."
After a bandage had been taped over Tom's scalp wound the boys left the 
infirmary, wondering where to look next for Gates. They decided first to visit the 
security office to see if any escape avenues might have been overlooked.
"One thing's certain," Bud said, as he looked up at the circling robot jets, 
"Gates won't try to fly off."
At this moment a voice boomed over the loud* speaker, "Tom Swift, please 
report to headquarters."
"That's the chief radio operator. Something's doing!" Bud exclaimed.
22 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
The jeep roared off to the control tower. George Billing met the boys.
"I'm advising that you call off the search," Billing said. "A report just came in 
from a boat that went out looking for him. A seaplane with an antiradar device 
landed and picked up a man from one of our speedboats. It took off before the 
searchers could get to it. I'm sure that's how Gates got away."
Bud remarked, "Gates mingled with the boat patrol to avoid being picked up. 
You have to hand it to the guy-he's clever!"
"And has clever friends," Tom said. "This whole deal was planned. They 
expected Gates to lose his plane, so they arranged for him to be picked up by the 
seaplane. All this must mean that he's an impostor and doesn't fly for the 
Cincinnati company at all."
"You mean he stole the plane?" Billing asked.
"Yes," Tom replied. "He probably slugged the real Gates and took his 
credentials."
The radio operator's fists knotted with anger.
"We'll get him!" he declared. "I'll radio the mainland police, the Coast Guard, 
and the Air Patrol immediately. Our men are towing the boat in now."
At Bud's insistence Tom went to his quarters. But he was not allowed to 
tumble into bed at once. Chow, who always seemed to have the right kind of food 
on hand, brought piping hot hamburgers and milk to the boys' room before they 
were even undressed. The cook insisted upon hearing the story of the night's 
adventures while they ate.
FOLLOWING A CLUE 23
"Well, brand that sneakin' varmint!" Chow exclaimed. "Things are gettin* 
pretty bad when livin' ain't safe even way out on a desert island in the Atlantic. 
Nary a critter to bother you. Nothin' but sand an* water, an' then coyotes like that 
hombre have to come slinkin' in here!"
Chow said good night and clumped off to his own room next to the kitchen.
The next morning, when Bud asked Tom what he was going to work on that 
day, the young inventor said that his first job would be to find out if the pilot who 
called himself Gates had been traced. Several calls to nearby seaplane bases 
yielded no information as to where Gates' rescue plane had landed.
But shortly before noon the Boston Airport called back to say that the plane 
which had landed at Fearing had been stolen, together with the rightful pilot's 
credentials. During the night, the real Edward Gates had shown up to claim his 
plane and the theft had been discovered. They had waited to call until the rightful 
owner could prove his identity. The identity of the strange pilot now became an 
even more baffling enigma.
Tom told the airport official that he would send the stolen plane to the 
mainland, then went to the infirmary. Upon learning that Drayton was better, he 
went in to see him.
"Good morning," Tom said, trying to conceal his agitation. "I understand that 
you're being removed to a hospital on the mainland. Before you go, would you 
mind telling me something more about yourself and your pilot friend?"
24 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"There isn't much to tell," Drayton answered. "When I heard from a man in 
Boston that Gates was flying back to Cincinnati, I invited myself along."
"But he didn't go to Cincinnati," Tom reminded Drayton.
"No. He said he was coming here first-thought I might like to get a look at 
your rocket project. Then the next thing I knew he was telling me to bail out."
"And to throw your clothes and credentials in the ocean?" Tom asked.
"I didn't want to," Drayton replied, "but I couldn't swim with my clothes on."
Tom watched the man intently as he informed him that the plane was stolen 
and the pilot a phony. Drayton seemed shocked, but merely said:
"I know nothing about that. I'd never seen the fellow before, so if he's a fake, 
that's a case for the police, I suppose."
Drayton's story sounded plausible, yet Tom was suspicious. He would 
recommend to the police that they keep an eye on him. As the young inventor 
was about to leave the infirmary, Dr. Carman called him into the office. Closing 
the door, he said in a low voice:
"Tom, something our patient mumbled over and over again while he was 
unconscious might interest you. He kept repeating, 'Arthur Gray, you were a fool 
to get caught.' If this fellow isn't Drayton, maybe he's somebody named Arthur 
Gray."
"Or the guy who escaped may be Gray!" said Tom.
FOLLOWING A CLUE 25
The more he thought about it, the more Tom became convinced this was the 
truth. Though the young inventor was eager to get back to his work on the rocket, 
he felt that the menace to the project should be cleared up first. An idea flashed 
into his mind and Tom went straight to the boat basin.
"Which speedboat did our visitor take last night?" he asked the attendant. "I 
want to examine it."
As the craft was being pointed out to him, Bud joined his friend. "What's up 
now, skipper?" he asked, and Tom gave him the latest news.
"See that dark mark along the bow? I believe it's paint scraped from the 
seaplane that landed here," Tom explained.
He bent over and began to whittle it off with a pocketknife, dropping the 
shavings into an envelope.
"What good is that going to do you?" his puzzled friend asked.
Tom looked up. "It's sometimes possible to trace a buyer of paint. 
Manufacturers have been asked to include some secret invisible chemical in 
small amounts in their paint so that it can be identified by police if necessary. The 
FBI gave me the list. Come on over to my lab, Bud, and I'll test these scrapings."
Reaching his chemical worktable, he exposed the scraps to an ultraviolet 
fluorophotometer.
"Look at those miniature polliwogs!" Bud exclaimed. "Is that what you 
mean?"
"Yes," Tom replied. He opened a desk drawer
26 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
and excitedly took out a chart. "Here it is. Worthy Paint Company!"
The boys started phoning, first to Worthy, then to a Philadelphia seaplane 
builder. From him they learned that the aluminum seaplane which had carried the 
intruder from Fearing Island was one of twenty sold to a Boston distributor only a 
month before.
Next, Tom telephoned the distributor and discussed the problem with him. 
When he had finished, the young inventor's eyes glistened. Reporting the 
conversation to Bud, he said:
"The dealer went through the whole list. All of the sales seemed above 
suspicion but one."
"What was strange about that one?" Bud asked.
"Well, the man bought three and paid cash. That was a lot of money for one 
man to be carrying around. Now get ready for a surprise. The man's name was 
Arthur Gray!"
"Good night!" Bud exclaimed. "Where was he from?"
"Hankton, Maine."
"Well, when do we start for Hankton, Tom?"
"Why not right now?" Tom replied. "We'll use the amphibian." From another 
desk drawer he took out several maps. "We can land in any of the coves along 
there. They are all open and pretty deep according to these charts."
The boys first sought out Hank Sterling to tell him of their plans. They found 
him discussing some wind-tunnel tests with Arvid Hanson, chief model-
FOLLOWING A CLUE 27
maker of Swift Enterprises. Tom asked Hank to take charge of the project in 
their absence. A few minutes later the two boys climbed into the plane and 
winged out over the eastern tip of the island, circled it once, then headed 
northeast.
Less than an hour later Tom banked and lost altitude. Flying close to the sun-
flecked waves, he hugged the shore.
"There'll be a red-striped lighthouse on the last point of land before we hit the 
bay we want," he told Bud.
"I see it!" the copilot cried. "Looks like a big barber's pole!"
Smoothly as a sea gull, the plane flew past the lighthouse and leveled toward 
the anchorage in one of the coves. A village of about ten houses hove into sight. 
At the end of a spit of land was a small dock.
Tom set the amphibian down about half a mile out and taxied in. As Bud 
made her fast to the dock, the boys saw a lobsterman, who was busy dumping 
his morning's catch into a square scow.
"Mighty fine plane you got there," the man observed without turning around.
"We like it," said Tom noncommittally, and asked if this was Hankton.
"That's what we call it."
"We're looking for a man named Gray," Tom said.
"The Grays is as thick around here as the pine trees," the fisherman said 
dryly. "You'll have to say which species you be after."
"Arthur," Tom replied calmly.
28 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"Oh, that one!" the lobsterman said. "He ain't a local variety. But he ain't 
exactly jest a summer person, either. He owns a pretty fair-sized house about 
quarter of a mile to the right up Cove Road. Looks like a hotel. You can't miss it. 
But ain't no one living there now as far as I know. Not a soul."
Tom was tempted to ask about the seaplanes, but fearing he would arouse 
the suspicions of the fisherman, he simply thanked the man, and the two boys 
walked along the dock to the street.
"Boy, it does look like a hotel!" Bud exclaimed, as a huge three-story 
weather-beaten frame house loomed on the right side of the wooded road.
"It's closed up-just as the fisherman said," Bud remarked.
The two boys walked around the place but saw nothing unusual.
"Let's go down this path to the water," Tom suggested, "and see if there's 
anything there."
They walked down the pine-needled slope which led to another cove. The 
path ended on a pier that extended about a hundred feet into the inlet. A sheet-
metal hut stood on the dock about halfway out.
"Let's see what's in that shack," Bud proposed.
The boys had just started forward when sudden footsteps sounded behind 
them and a gruff voice commanded:
"Don't ye move!"
CHAPTER 4
THE FIRST TEST
STARTLED by the ominous command to halt, Tom and Bud stood 
motionless. The strange voice growled:
"Turn around! Quick!"
The boys obeyed and pivoted to face an elderly man who carried a shotgun.
"Git goin' up that path!" he ordered, walking in a wide circle to get behind 
them.
"Just a minute," Tom protested. "We're not-"
"Hold your tongue, boy!" the man barked. "Mr. Gray's got me hired to keep 
strangers off his place. Now git goin'!"
Tom thought fast. "Haven't you heard the bad news about Arthur Gray?" he 
asked, looking at the caretaker over his shoulder.
"What's that ye say?" the old man asked as if he had hardly heard the 
question. Then, as its import
29
"Turn around! Quick!" the stranger growled
THE FIRST TEST 31
struck him, he added, "You're talkin' foolish, just to find out somethin'."
Tom said no more and started walking up the path. Bud, sensing his friend's 
strategy, winked at him and trudged along in silence beside him. The trio had 
moved only a hundred feet when the caretaker exclaimed:
"Hold on there!"
The file halted. The old man stepped in front of the boys.
"What's the matter with Mr. Gray?" he asked, peering at Tom.
"He narrowly escaped death," Tom replied. "That is, if we're talking about the 
same Arthur Gray. What's your boss look like?"
"Medium height, dark, has a gold-capped tooth in the front o" his mouth. He 
has the biggest hands I ever saw on a man his size, considerin' I never see him 
usin' them to do any work."
"He's the same Arthur Gray, all right," Tom said, as he and Bud tried not to 
show their elation at the easy identification. "He's in a hospital right now with a 
heart attack."
"You won't see him for a long time," Bud spoke up, hoping this bit of news 
might elicit even more information from the man.
"We thought by coming here we might find out about his family or friends-" 
Tom suggested, leaving the sentence unfinished and smiling at the caretaker.
After a moment's thought the old man set his
32 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
shotgun on the ground. Losing his look and tone of authority, he asked:
"Who be ye?"
"A couple of airmen," Tom replied. "Arthur Gray-bailed out of a seaplane near 
an island where we were staying and we took him to the hospital. To tell you the 
truth, we wonder whether he's on the up and up."
"I see. Well, ye look honest enough, an' old Asa Pike ain't one to be taken in. 
Tell ye what. There's no place for strangers to eat around here, so come up to 
my house for some victuals. I might have some-thin' to tell ye."
The boys thanked him and followed readily. In a few minutes they reached a 
shack in a pine grove. Asa Pike led them into his kitchen. A savory lobster stew 
was simmering on a kerosene stove.
Ten minutes later the boys were feasting on the best sea food they had ever 
tasted. Tom led the conversation to the topic of Arthur Gray by asking casually:
"Do many people fly seaplanes in here?"
"Mr. Gray done a lot of seaplane flyin'."
"Did he ever fly this type?" Tom asked, taking from his pocket a small 
photograph of the aluminum seaplane.
"That's exactly the kind!" Asa Pike exclaimed. "Land sakes! There was three 
o' them here about two weeks ago."
"Where are they now?" Bud queried.
"Can't rightly say," Pike replied. "They was flown
THE FIRST TEST 33
away from here by three fellers who gave me the jitters."
"Why?"
"Well, they'd been stayin' in the big house off an' on for a couple of days at a 
stretch while Mr. Gray was away. They only seemed to come here lookin' for 
mail. An' when it didn't come, they near to had a fit."
Tom asked Pike to describe the men. The first two were blond and he had 
never heard their names. But when he described the third man, whose name was 
Ed Johnson, the boys sat up and took notice. He was certainly the pilot who had 
stolen the plane and the flying credentials of Edward Gates.
"What kind of mail came here for these men?" Bud asked the caretaker.
"Some from New York, some from European cities," Asa replied. "Always air 
mail an' registered."
Tom asked the old man if he did not think it strange for such people to be in 
Hankton when apparently they had no interest in vacationing at the spot.
"Yes, I did," Asa Pike admitted. "But down here we figger on mindin' our own 
business. He pays me reg'lar for lookin' after his place, an' I can't prove he's 
done anythin' he shouldn't."
While Tom finished a second helping of the tasty stew, he came to a 
decision. He would take Asa Pike into his confidence.
"You're a loyal American," he said with a smile. "Bud here and I feel sure that 
Gray and Johnson and
34 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
their friends are up to something underhanded, possibly to do with a big 
project Uncle Sam is interested in. How would you like to help find out?"
Asa Pike's eyes bulged. "Me!" he exclaimed. "Ye a-deputizin' me, ye mean?"
"Oh, you don't have to unless you want to," Tom told him quickly.
"Ketch me sayin' no," the caretaker said. "Any-thin" to help Uncle Sam. Jest 
wait until I tell-"
"You must keep this under your hat," Tom cautioned him. "And now, can you 
think of anything else about the letters that might help us?" he asked.
Asa thought a moment. "The ones that wasn't addressed to Mr. Gray bore 
the name Marvin Hein," he recalled. "I guess that's all."
"Do you know which direction their seaplanes flew when they left here?" Tom 
queried, making a mental note of Hein's name.
"Northward," Asa replied.
"Better not say a word to anyone about our visit," Tom warned Asa Pike, 
adding, "We'll have to go now."
The boys thanked the friendly caretaker for his help, and Tom gave him their 
full names and the Fearing Island telephone number. He asked to be notified the 
minute anyone showed up at Gray's residence.
"I won't fail ye," Asa Pike promised.
The two boys headed for their plane at the fishermen's dock. The place was 
deserted; even the lob-sterman had gone.
THE FIRST TEST 35
"We picked a good time to drop in," Bud remarked, as they cast off and 
prepared to taxi out to the open bay.
"As soon as I've checked the solar radiation effect on my rocket-fuel kicker," 
Tom said, "you and I are heading right back up this way, Bud."
The plane taxied out into open water, then Tom gunned the engines. The 
amphibian lunged forward and roared along the surface. A moment later it was 
air-borne, and by three o'clock Tom and Bud were back at Fearing Island, telling 
their story to Sterling and Hanson.
"Anything new here?" Tom asked when he had finished.
"I'll say," Hank Sterling replied. "The Midwest Steel pilot, Ed Gates, called up 
to arrange to get his plane back. He was beaten and robbed in a Boston hotel. 
There's no question that Johnson or Gray is the guilty one. Incidentally, our two 
patients were moved to a mainland hospital. Drayton never admitted to being 
Arthur Gray."
"I hope he's under police guard," Tom said.
"He is," Hank assured him. "Another message that came in is about your 
family. They're flying here in an hour." The patternmaker smiled. "Bringing Phyl 
Newton along-to keep Sandy company, I suppose."
Tom and Bud grinned, knowing that they were being needled. The four 
young people dated frequently, despite the heavy schedule of work Tom and Bud 
carried on.
36 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
Tom had sent for his flying laboratory, the Sky Queen, to be brought from the 
Swifts' main experimental center at Shopton. His father would fly the giant ship to 
Fearing Island. Sandy Swift, Tom's attractive blond sister who looked very much 
like him and was an expert flier, would pilot a second plane to take the visitors 
home again.
"I hope we get the rest of the day off, genius boy," Bud said slyly. "I haven't 
seen Sa-your family in nearly a month."
"No work from four p.m. until six a.m. tomorrow," the young inventor agreed.
"What's happening then?" Bud asked.
"You're piloting the Sky Queen as high as you can take her while I test out 
the fuel kicker."
At exactly four o'clock the Flying Lab roared in over the island. The flaming 
jet lifters lowered it onto a carpet of specially built, heat-resistant boiler-iron 
splash plate. A few moments later Sandy Swift made a perfect landing in a small 
jet plane.
"Hi, Phyl!" Tom and Bud cried, as the pretty brunette daughter of Ned 
Newton, Mr. Swift's close friend and business associate, opened the door and 
Was lifted down.
"Hello, Sis!" Tom called as Sandy followed.
"Good to see you." Bud grinned. "And how did your copilot do?"
Phyl made a face. "I'll stick to riding horses," she said.
Mr. and Mrs. Swift came down the ramp of the Sky Queen and received a 
warm welcome from the
THE FIRST TEST 37
boys. The older inventor and his son closely resembled each other. Mrs. 
Swift, who was dainty and pretty, was intensely interested in their inventions, but 
frankly admitted that she understood little about them.
"How is the rocket project going?" she asked.
"Very well, Mother," Tom replied. "We'll show you the one Bud and I are 
taking into space."
Mrs. Swift shivered a little but said she was ready for the tour. The group 
drove toward the launching area. Tom's mother and the girls were amazed to see 
how built-up the island was.
"I had no idea it was so complete," Mrs. Swift commented, as they passed 
the dock area with its numerous boats and the playfields for tennis, baseball, and 
other sports.
Then came the long barracks, the construction building, and finally the very 
modern-looking laboratory building.
"We'll show you the interiors after a while," Tom promised, turning the car up 
a road in the very center of the island. "The launching area is directly ahead."
Before the visitors loomed two gigantic rocket ships about a quarter of a mile 
apart. Each was painted silver gray with a red nose and at the base were three 
red fins on which the rockets seemed to be poised.
"The one farther over is the dummy," Tom explained, driving up to the 
launching area of the passenger rocket.
38 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
Set on an enormous concrete platform, it was enclosed all the way up to the 
nose with light-metal scaffolding. A small open elevator operated within the 
scaffolding.
"May we go all the way to the top?" Sandy asked excitedly.
"Don't see why not," Tom responded. "Bud, you go up with the girls. There's 
not room for all of us."
The three climbed up the ramp to the elevator shaft and were soon whisked 
to the nose.
"You're one hundred and thirty feet up," Bud announced. "Halfway to Mars 
before we even leave the ground."
But his audience did not smile. Instead, Sandy said, "I know Tom has taken 
every precaution- covering the inside and outside of this rocket with Tomasite to 
withstand the enormous heat from atmospheric friction. But how do you know 
your bodies can stand the shock of the fearful speed?"
"Our hydraulic, shock-absorbing suits will protect us. Don't worry, Sandy."
"That's all right for you to say," Phyl spoke up. "But I've read that if a rocket 
should leak, in the vacuum of space, a person's blood starts to boil and he-he 
explodes! Oh, Bud, do you and Tom have to go on this terribly dangerous 
venture?"
Bud smiled. "It's nice to know you'll be worried about us. But keep your chins 
up, girls. We'll be okay."
When Sandy said that she would like to see what the rocket motors looked 
like, Bud lowered the ele-
THE FIRST TEST 39
vator car down to the launching platform underneath the ship. Both girls 
gulped at the maze of fuel pumps, pipes, tanks, numberless propulsion motors 
and platforms.
"This rocket is in four stages and each stage is complete in itself," Bud 
explained. "The bottom section, or first stage, directly above us drops off first, 
then the next and the next. Finally, Tom and I will be in our own flying stage. Now 
let's go back up to the pilot canopy in the nose. I want to show you Tom's latest 
safety device."
They huddled in the narrow elevator. Bud pressed a button and the conveyor 
shot to the top stage. In some ways it resembled a plane, but the girls knew that 
during the early part of the flight, Tom and Bud would be strapped to a board 
tilted at a 45-degree angle from the upright rocket. Therefore the controls had 
been built to be within easy reach of this position.
"See this panel?" Bud asked. "It's Tom's foolproof control. If the first three 
stages don't drop off by themselves, this electronic attachment will cause an 
explosion and off they go!"
Sandy and Phyl looked around, awe-struck. This passenger section seemed 
like such a tiny ship in which to make a trip through space. Commenting on this, 
they learned that it weighed seventeen tons, or only two percent of the rocket 
ship's total weight.
"But that's all we need," Bud declared. "The two bottom stages get the rocket 
up into space. The third is to get it in orbital motion. Our payload-stage mo-
40 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
tors are only used for braking on the return trip."
"But you don't have any windows in here!" Phyl exclaimed. "Aren't you going 
to be able to see anything?"
Bud smiled at her evident disappointment and said, "We do have two 
portholes, but it can be pretty dangerous to take a peek."
He walked over to the wall and opened a circular steel shutter, exposing a 
good-sized porthole in which was set an extremely thick pane of orange-colored 
glass.
"Tom tells me that the glass in there will absorb most of the ultraviolet light, 
but even so we won't dare look toward the sun.
"You see," he continued, "the blanket of air around the earth protects us from 
most of the harmful radiation, but out in space the sun's rays are so strong 
they're deadly. That's why we have these shutters for the viewing ports. But since 
we have another one on the other wall, we'll be able to look out most of the time 
from one of them. No, we won't miss a thing," Bud concluded.
"I thought it was dark as night up in space," Sandy remarked.
"True, when you're out of the planets' atmospheres. But we might pick up the 
lights of spaceships from Mars, for instance," Bud replied. He grinned. "So it will 
be easy to avoid a crash."
Sandy and Phyl were very sober. The more they saw, the less convinced the 
girls were that they
THE FIRST TEST 41
wanted to have Tom and Bud hurtling off into space.
"Cheer up!" Bud laughed on the way to the ground. "This evening we're 
going to have fun and forget the rocket."
"Good," said Phyl. "When do we start?"
"As soon as we find Tom."
The young inventor, meanwhile, had been having an interesting talk with his 
father about communicating with a group they thought lived on Mars, who had 
sent a message to the Swifts. A huge, meteorlike object, obviously planned by a 
keen intellect, and bearing mathematical symbols had made a pin-point landing a 
short time ago at the Swift Enterprises plant at Shopton.
After weeks of work by the two inventors, the symbols had been interpreted 
as a message saying that these planet dwellers had conquered the problem of 
space travel. But they were unable to invent a means of penetrating the dense 
atmosphere of Earth and wanted the Swifts to send them a solution.
"How are you coming along on your answer to these space beings, son?" 
Tom's father asked.
"Slow, Dad. It's less difficult to invent a rocket ship than try to talk to 
mysterious people through mathematics."
"Yes," Mr. Swift replied. "I haven't had any success, either. And after we work 
out the message, to whom are we going to send it and how? We wouldn't want to 
direct a missile aimlessly into space."
Tom smiled. "It might be easier to try contacting
42 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
our unknown science friends by transmission when Bud and I are up in the 
rocket."
The conversation ended when Sandy and Phyl arrived with Bud, and the 
"evening of fun" began. Three sets of tennis, with Tom and Phyl the victors, 
preceded a swim. Then came dinner and dancing. Finally it was time for Sandy 
to pilot her parents and Phyl to Shopton.
"We'll be back to see you take off in the rocket ship," Sandy said as she 
waved good-by.
"Indeed we will," Phyl called.
At five o'clock the following morning Chow served the boys breakfast, and by 
six they were in the Sky Queen, ready for the test of the rocket-fuel kicker.
Tom had installed his invention on top of the great plane and also a highly 
sensitive thermopile to record any effect of solar radiation on the liquid oxygen. A 
wire led from the instrument to a thermograph in the laboratory. This would show 
Tom what was taking place up above.
"I guess we're ready," he said eagerly over the intercom telephone to Bud 
who was at the controls, with Hank Sterling beside him.
With a roar the Sky Queen was air-borne, climbing, climbing. The altimeter 
raced from left to right. At eighteen miles above the earth Tom asked Bud to hold 
the plane stationary.
"Why here?" the copilot asked.
"Well, the short-wave-length radiation we are looking for doesn't reach the 
ground. It's filtered out by the atmosphere between twelve and twenty miles
THE FIRST TEST 43
above the earth. We won't get all of it here at this altitude, but enough to 
predict how well the kicker will work."
Tom adjusted the thermograph potentiometer to zero deflection and checked 
the circuit once more. Then, turning to Bud, he said, "I'm all set to throw the 
switch."
His voice was tense with anticipation.
CHAPTER 5
SABOTAGE
SLOWLY at first, then with ever-increasing speed. Tom manipulated the 
knobs that sent a flow of liquid oxygen into the kicker. The influx was at its 
maximum when Bud arrived to watch the experiment, leaving Hank at the 
controls.
Suddenly the quill on the thermograph began to vibrate. A moment later it 
moved up several degrees.
"It works!" Bud shouted, clapping Tom on the shoulder. "Look at her inching 
up!"
The young inventor stared at the thermograph, his heart thumping wildly. 
Part of his dream was a reality! He had solved the problem of rocket fuel! Now to 
install the kicker in his spaceship!
It did not matter that the quill had not advanced any farther. In a rocket the 
absorption of rays would be much greater. Quietly Tom said:
"We'll go down now."
44
SABOTAGE 45
Bud began to feel the awe of the situation. Without a word he turned and 
went back to the pilot's seat.
Hank Sterling sent his congratulations to Tom, who joined the others in a few 
minutes.
"No reason why we can't send the dummy rocket ship up tomorrow!" he 
exclaimed. "It won't take many hours to install the kicker and everything else is 
ready."
Upon reaching the ground, the three young men found the entire personnel 
of Fearing Island assembled to meet them. When the engineers and ground crew 
heard the good news, compliments were showered on Tom.
The young inventor grinned, thanked them, and remarked that his real work 
was just beginning. He would install the kicker in the dummy rocket.
"And I have another plan too," he said. "I'll rig a powerful receiver into the 
dummy rocket that may pick up messages sent out by space travelers on a 
holiday from Mars. One might even be directed on purpose toward our rocket! 
The transmitter will relay the message down here."
Tom's listeners seemed to be equally divided in their belief in this theory. But 
those who did not share the young inventor's hopes smiled tolerantly. During the 
good-natured argument that followed, Hank Sterling noticed, however, that the 
lips of one engineer, named Eskot, curled disdainfully. The head patternmaker, 
irritated by the man's attitude, walked over to him.
46 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"What's the matter with Tom's idea, Eskot?" he asked.
"Why-uh-nothing. How come you asked?"
"I didn't like the look on your face, that's all," Hank said.
"My face?" Eskot spoke as if he did not understand. "Oh, you mean a look of 
pain? I did have a pain. Indigestion. Eggs don't agree with me. Shouldn't have 
eaten them this morning."
Hank Sterling walked off, not entirely satisfied with the explanation. The man 
would bear watching! He personally took it upon himself to trail Eskot all day, but 
the engineer went about his work and talked in a manner that showed nothing 
but intense loyalty to Tom and the whole Fearing Island project.
"Guess I was wrong," the patternmaker told himself, putting the incident out 
of his mind.
The next morning Tom awakened at dawn. Thoughts of the exciting 
launching program ahead of him kept running through his mind and he could not 
fall asleep again. The young inventor dressed quietly and stole out of the house.
He went at once to the giant dummy rocket ship and greeted the two guards 
on duty. They reported that a dozen engineers had worked all night putting the 
finishing touches on the project.
"What do you mean?" Tom asked quickly. "Everything was set when I went 
to bed."
The guards merely shrugged. They knew nothing about the intricacies of the 
rocket or its preparation for flight.
SABOTAGE 47
Tom was worried. He had left no instructions for further work. Even the 
elevator had been removed.
Panic seized him. Turning on the lights inside the ship, he glanced from left 
to right. Everything seemed to be in order in the first stage.
Quickly Tom climbed the small wall ladder to the next stage. He went on to 
the third, but found no evidence that any of the machinery had been tampered 
with.
Finally he came to the most vital part of the rocket-the fourth stage which 
was to return from its space flight and bring records of all kinds so that Tom 
would know how to proceed with his passenger rocket.
"No! Oh, no!" he cried involuntarily as he gazed around.
The transmitter was completely wrecked! And most of the recording 
machines had been put out of commission!
Tom stood dumfounded for several seconds, then he sprang into action. 
First, he must capture the saboteur. More than likely there was a leak in his 
security system. One or more of those engineers who had volunteered to work all 
night was the culprit.
"Working to wreck my project," Tom decided grimly. "He-or they-thought I'd 
never find out. The rocket would go off all right and maybe come back, but 
without any data!"
Carefully Tom Swift wrapped several hacked-up sections of the instruments 
in a handkerchief so that they could be examined for fingerprints. Finding a
48 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
small hammer, which probably had been used in the fiendish act, he picked it 
up with a pair of pliers from his trousers pocket.
Holding on with one hand, Tom went slowly down the ladder. When he 
emerged, he asked the guards for the names of the engineers who had worked 
during the night. The men had kept no record, but between them they recalled 
the entire group.
"Tom! What are you doing up at this hour?" a voice behind him asked. Tom 
turned to see Hank Sterling coming in his direction.
"You're just the person I need," Tom said and asked his friend to accompany 
him to the laboratory.
Once inside the building, Tom blurted out the whole story.
"Was Eskot one of the men who worked there last night?" Hank asked.
"Yes, he was. Why did you mention him?"
Hank Sterling told of his suspicions as he helped Tom lift the fingerprints. 
There proved to be three sets on the hammer, but only one of these appeared on 
the transmitter and recording-machine samples.
Carrying the sets to the main office, Tom and Hank at once compared the 
fingerprints with those on file of James Eskot.
"They match!" Hank exclaimed. "I was sure they would!"
He and Tom were puzzled about the other engineers who had worked late 
and they decided to question each one. But Eskot would come first.
"We can nab Eskot right in his bunk," Tom said.
SABOTAGE 49
"I'd like to have one of our security men whisk him off the island before the 
others are even awake."
"We should be able to-it's only six o'clock!" Hank added.
Stepping to a telephone, Tom called Harlan Ames at the apartment 
connected with the control tower where the security group lived. He explained 
that the technician on the fuel-storage detail probably was a spy. Tom also gave 
the names of the other eleven who had presumably worked during the night on 
the dummy rocket ship.
"Hank and I will get Eskot," he said. "You and your men hold the others."
"We'll be right over," Ames promised.
Tom joined Hank who already was crossing the scrubby lawn of the crew 
barracks. He opened the door and they tiptoed to the big dormitory where several 
men lay asleep in metal beds.
"Eskot's next to the last on the right!" Tom whispered.
Suddenly a figure rose from the bed and jumped out a window.
"It's Eskot!" Hank shouted. "He must have seen us coming!"
"Look! He's running for that jeep!" Tom cried.
He and Hank also jumped out a window, but by this time Eskot was already 
roaring out over the clamshell road to the fuel-storage enclosure two hundred 
yards away.
"What's he up to?" Hank asked. "He can't escape from the island."
50 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"No, but he can pull more foul play," Tom answered. "I believe he may be 
planning to blow up the tanks. We must stop him!"
"The wind's shifted," Hank cried as they raced on. "If Eskot blows up the 
storage tanks, the whole launching area will go."
With the speed of desperation, the two dashed toward the concrete-walled 
enclosure. But as they approached, Eskot brought the jeep to a screeching halt 
and leaped out. A second later the man was inside the enclosure. With this head 
start, the chase looked hopeless.
"We'd better not go in," Hank advised. "Eskot might blow us all to bits!"
Tom would not admit defeat. He was sure that Eskot had not formulated a 
complete plan yet. There was still time to stop his devilish aim!
"I'll go in alone, Hank," Tom called.
"I'm going with you," Hank said.
Four experimental fuels were stored in separate tanks at each corner of the 
huge square enclosure. As Tom looked about, trying to spot Eskot, he saw the 
saboteur run from the side door of a tool shed toward the ladder of the storage 
tank which contained fuming nitric acid.
Tom could see that the man's hands were full of highly combustible sawdust-
enough, the young inventor knew, to blow the acid tank sky-high if dropped into 
it!
CHAPTER 6
THE ROCKET LAUNCHING
IN A LEAP Tom sprang high onto the ladder of the acid tank. Eskot was 
almost at the top and the young inventor worked upward at a furious rate to 
overtake the fanatical saboteur. He gained on him quickly.
Eskot stepped onto the metal catwalk and reached for the pressure vent 
through which he was intending to throw the deadly handful of sawdust.
At the same moment Tom hurled himself headlong, striking the man from 
behind. The sawdust scattered in the breeze.
Screaming oaths at his captor, Eskot began to fight with tigerlike ferocity. He 
scratched and clawed, at the same time trying to hurl Tom over the railing of the 
catwalk.
Hank Sterling had started up the rungs of the ladder to assist, when suddenly 
Eskot made a misstep while trying to avoid a lightning thrust of Tom's.
51
52 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
One foot groped the air and for a split second Eskot tried to regain his 
balance.
The effort was futile. He cracked his head on the railing and sprawled 
unconscious on the catwalk.
As Tom straightened up, Hank clapped a hand on his shoulder. No words 
were spoken, but Hank's gesture expressed his praise of Tom's exploit.
Together, they carried the unconscious engineer to the jeep and drove him to 
the infirmary. Tom asked Dr. Carman to keep the man a prisoner and make a 
note of everything Eskot said both before and after regaining his faculties. Tom 
arranged for a guard to stay near the traitor's bed.
As Tom and Hank left the building, the young in-
Leaping onto the ladder of the acid tank,
THE ROCKET LAUNCHING
53
ventor said, "Let's find Ames and see what he and his men have learned 
from those other engineers."
The whole group was still in the barracks, talking excitedly. Each engineer 
had told the same story: Eskot had shown them an order, apparently forged, 
stating that the twelve were to make a final test that evening on the first three 
stages of the rocket.
"Presumably," said Ames, "Eskot wanted a cover-up for himself. When no 
one was looking, he slipped into the payload stage and wrecked the transmission 
and recording machines. What are you going to do, Tom?"
"Install the models that are locked in my lab." A faint smile appeared on 
Tom's face as he added, "It's fortunate Eskot didn't know about them."
Feverish activity was the order of the day on Fearing Island. A group of 
Tom's loyal co-workers, intent on making up for the damage caused by Eskot, 
went
Tom pursued the fanatical saboteur
54 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
over every inch of the dummy rocket ship, checking for damaged equipment 
elsewhere than in the nose. But they found none.
Others removed the broken instruments while still a third crew, under Tom's 
direction, installed a new set of recording devices. By late evening the dummy 
rocket ship was ready for flight.
As Tom relaxed for the first time in eighteen hours, he thought of Eskot, and 
immediately ordered a heavy guard to be placed around the ship. Wondering 
whether the treacherous engineer had regained consciousness and had 
confessed, Tom hurried to the infirmary.
Dr. Carman reported that the saboteur seemed to be suffering from shock 
more than from any physical injury.
"Even when Eskot is awake," the physician said, "he's not rational. Come 
and listen to him."
Tom followed the doctor to a private room where a nurse sat, pad and pencil 
in her hand. She reported that the patient had murmured the same words over 
and over again.
"He's starting now," she said, as Eskot stirred restlessly on the bed and 
began to mumble.
"Tell . . . Hein ... I carried out . . . his orders! Yes . . . Johnson ... I got it 
straight!"
The hoarse voice died away and Eskot lapsed once more into a deep sleep. 
But the names he had whispered caused Tom to grip the doctor excitedly by the 
arm.
"Eskot is tied up with the gang that's trying to wreck our rocket project!" he 
exclaimed.
THE ROCKET LAUNCHING 55
"Well," said Dr. Carman, "you've collared a dangerous member."
"But there are more where he came from and there may be more on the 
island right now," Tom replied. "We can't relax our vigilance, doctor. Who knows 
when something else may happen? I think I ought to launch the dummy rocket 
ship at once."
"Tom, you'd better take it easy," the physician pleaded. "Get some sleep-and 
give your men a few hours' rest."
"I guess you're right."
That night the tall, silent rockets were so well protected by the contingent of 
guards that no enemy could possibly have gotten near them. As dawn broke, the 
island was awake again.
Fuel trucks piped the last gallons of liquid oxygen and alcohol into the 
dummy rocket ship. Mechanics and engineers bustled about, disconnecting fuel 
lines.
Tom Swift was in the nose section, with Bud Barclay watching the young 
inventor give his flight plan a last-minute inspection. This was an automatic pilot 
in the form of an unwinding, perforated tape which ran through an electric brain. 
Metal pins would drop into the punched-out holes and make contact with various 
controls.
"So you expect this piece of plastic to act as guide during the trip and bring 
the last stage of this rocket right back to the island?" Bud asked dubiously.
"I sure do," Tom replied. "And when it lands, not even the robot jets will have 
to guide the rocket in."
There was a buzz on the intercom. Tom switched on the receiver.
56 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"Everything is clear," came Arvid Hanson's voice. "Any further instructions?"
"None. I'll be right down."
The young inventor made a final check. Then he glanced at his watch and 
set the tape in action. It would run blank for exactly fifteen minutes.
"Flip on the transmitter, Bud," Tom ordered, as he himself started a dozen 
recording machines in motion.
Then quickly the two boys descended the ladder and stepped outside. The 
rocket ship was sealed.
"We'll go right to the tracking room," Tom said.
They hurried to the high covered platform and watched the sensitive 
recording equipment which would follow the rocket in its flight. Here stood also 
the computer that was to receive messages from two oscilloscopes in the 
rocket's nose.
Every man who was not needed at another post had come to watch the 
launching. Among them was Chow in his very loudest red-and-green plaid shirt. 
He edged close to his boss and at once began to ask questions.
"Tom, when will that there kicker cut in?" he began.
"It's set to go into action at an altitude of forty-one miles," Tom replied.
"Forty-one!" Chow exclaimed. "Brand my nightmares, why do you wait so 
long?"
"Well, below forty-one miles there just isn't enough sunshine, Chow."
The cook heaved a great sigh. "Well, you should
THE ROCKET LAUNCHING 57
have gone down to Texas then. There ain't no place where there's more 
sunshine than Texas," he said.
Hank Sterling moved to the public-address-system microphone and looked at 
his watch which had been synchronized with Tom's.
"All personnel leave the launching area at once!" his voice boomed. "X minus 
two minutes!"
Two mechanics ran for cover. The area was deserted. In the control office, 
Harlan Ames flicked the interceptor switch to neutralize the drones.
"X minus one minute!" Hank Sterling announced.
Every crewman on the tracking level crouched at his post as the seconds 
ticked toward zero. Electric movie cameras at several points were grinding the 
dramatic take-off footage. The men who were to operate the radar plotting 
equipment nervously tested the points of the pen recorders.
Tom stood as rigid as a statue. In one minute he would know whether the 
tape recorder would set the machinery in motion to send the rocket on its space 
journey.
"X minus twenty seconds!" Hank's voice was tense.
Tom gripped the railing of the platform, his eyes fixed on the poised rocket.
"X minus one!"
A multicolored cloud of gases burst from the takeoff motors and the giant 
rocket ship lifted itself clear of the ground. The fiery explosions shook the island.
"She's away!" Bud cried.
A cheer went up from the onlookers as the rocket ship moved slowly at first, 
then zoomed upward. It
58 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
became a pin point and finally disappeared into the sky.
Tom glanced from dial to dial. All was going well. A sudden jagged mark 
appeared on the white paper strip.
"The base stage has been jettisoned with its parachute!" he cried. "Now for 
the kicker!"
The young inventor kept his eyes glued to the dial. For several seconds there 
was no activity. Finally the needle flickered, crept forward, and became still. Then 
it trembled steadily for ten seconds.
"The kicker's getting it now!" Tom cried. "Getting plenty of solar radiation!"
The needle showed a regular pulsation.
"Bud!" Tom cried. "Come here! Watch this while I write down the figures. 
Note the number of degrees the temperature rises above the black line!"
"Does the line indicate the temperature without the kicker?" Bud asked.
"Yes," Tom grunted. "See what it's doing now!"
Bud peered at the dials. "It's streaking past the old mark!" he cried. "Now it's 
stopped rising!"
"What's the reading?" Tom asked excitedly.
"I can't believe we've hit 4900 degrees beyond the old mark!" Bud 
announced.
"This is fabulous!" Tom exclaimed. "We'll have power enough to take us 
anywhere in the universe!"
"When do we push off?" Hank asked.
"Next Friday," replied Tom.
"Next Friday!" Bud retorted. "I thought you needed another ten days."
"I did, too," Tom said. "Until I saw this."
THE ROCKET LAUNCHING 59
"Boy, I can't wait!" Bud burst out. "Imagine, Tom, we'll be the first ones to do 
what kids have been imagining all these years!" He chuckled. "You're going to 
put 'Gyro George and his Space Raiders' right out of business!"
Hank Sterling and Arvid Hanson came to the platform and Tom asked them 
to record the testing figures while he stepped over to the oscillograph.
"Oh, man!" he cried.
"What's up?" Bud asked.
"There's a triangle coming up!" Tom responded, as he watched one impulse 
after another appear to form the symbol.
This was followed by a still larger triangle surrounding the smaller one, then 
several other mathematical forms. Tom jotted them down.
"Say, genius, I asked you a question," Bud prodded him.
"It's true! They're after us again!" Tom exclaimed.
"Who? Johnson's gang?" Bud asked apprehensively.
"No. The space beings," Tom said with great excitement. "The same ones 
who carved the symbols on what we first thought was the meteor. This is a 
follow-up message, asking our help to get them to Earth."
"Did the message come direct-or by way of the rocket?" Hanson asked.
"I don't know," the young inventor admitted, "but I think from the rocket."
"Second stage has been jettisoned!" Bud called.
60 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
At the same moment a new set of symbols began to appear on the 
oscillograph. As Tom copied them, he tried to figure their meaning. From his long 
study in translating the first group, these symbols were easily deciphered.
"What now?" Bud called.
Tom grinned. "Those Martians-or whatever they are-have sent a message of 
congratulation!"
"Honestly?"
"That's the way I interpret it."
Bud gave a shout. "Boy, you're the first person on this earth to get a 
message like that! Hey! There goes the third stage!"
It was exactly twelve minutes since the second stage had broken off. Now 
the tracker showed that the rocket was going into free flight.
"She ought to start back now!" Tom said, holding his breath.
"She has! She has!" Bud exclaimed a minute later.
The indicators showed that the nose section was arcing back toward the 
earth. Would the rocket carry through on the flight plan? Or would it crash 
somewhere, perhaps in a thickly populated area?
CHAPTER 7
A CRACK-UP
AS THE TIME approached for the rocket to become visible, all eyes on 
Fearing Island scanned the sky.
"We should see stage four within five minutes," Tom muttered, his fingers 
clenched tightly in the palms of his hands.
He glanced at his watch again-it was seven thirty. He heard a commotion in 
the crowd and then a shout. He looked up again and there it was-a pin point in 
the sky.
"It's coming!" Bud almost screamed the words.
Straight toward them the rocket hurtled, spitting long tongues of blue flame. 
Involuntarily, everyone prepared to run. Then, as if by magic, its speed 
decreased. Hundreds of feet above the watchers, Tom's invention actually 
slowed to a snail's pace and glided in to a stop not ten yards from where it had 
taken off.
61
62 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
Now, only one third its original length, the rocket stood there as mute 
evidence of Tom's success. The young inventor ran to it and gazed fondly at the 
stubby red-and-silver ship that had traveled so speedily to where no man yet had 
been. For a short while Tom hardly heard the acclaim he was receiving, but 
finally he became aware of the shouts of praise, and acknowledged them with a 
pleased grin.
"As soon as this baby cools off," he said, "we'll inspect the recordings."
An hour later Tom broke the seal and with Bud hurried inside. First he 
inspected the kicker.
"It's in perfect shape, Bud!" Tom exclaimed.
One by one, the boys read the various charts. Each report boosted their 
fondest hopes.
"I guess you and I have nothing to worry about now in regard to our trip in the 
passenger rocket," Tom said at last. Then he sobered. "Unless someone else 
gets ahead of us in the race."
"Or unless Eskot's friends manage to stop us," Bud added.
Tom reflected on this for a second and said thoughtfully, "Bud, I think you've 
really made a point there. Sabotage couldn't beat us for good, but it certainly 
could slow us down enough to put us out of the race. Just to be on the safe side, 
I think I'll call Dad to make some spare rocket sections while he still has the 
equipment and jigs set up."
Tom had hardly spoken when a guard came to tell him that there was a long-
distance telephone call for him. Thinking the caller must be his father, wanting
A CRACK-UP 63
news of the rocket-ship flight, Tom was amazed to hear a strange voice say 
"Hello."
"Yes?" Tom replied.
"This is Asa Pike up in Hankton, Maine."
"Oh!" Tom said. "How are you?"
"Listen!" the caretaker of the Gray estate said. "I'm callin' to tell ye to git up 
here as soon as ye can. Marvin Hein an' Johnson, that pilot what escaped from 
your rocket base, will be here this afternoon."
"What time, Asa?"
"Two o'clock."
"We'll see you!" Tom replied. "Thanks for letting me know, and keep this 
quiet."
"You betcha."
Tom hurried back to Bud and told him they were taking off at once to see 
what Hein and Johnson were up to in Maine.
"I'll warm up an amphib," Bud offered, as his friend went to tell Sterling and 
Ames of their plans.
"Take it easy," Ames advised. "If there's any sign of trouble, call the FBI. 
Don't you get in the middle of it."
"Okay, Harlan. But before I report these men, I want to be sure that they're 
the fellows we're after."
Bud had the amphibian ready when Tom came running across the sand to 
the dock. Tom hopped into the pilot's seat and they were soon winging north from 
Fearing Island.
"Who do you think is the big boss of the gang- Hein, or Gray, or Johnson?" 
Bud asked.
"None of them. Probably someone we've never
64 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
heard of," Tom replied. "And my hunch is that he's in the employ of a nation 
which isn't entered in the rocket race."
"But why?"
"We know about the Australian group and the English team, and that a new 
rocket society in Sweden is building a ship. While we don't exactly know what 
their plans are, we're sure that they are not trying to steal somebody else's know-
how. This gang we're up against probably hasn't been able to solve the fuel 
problem, so they're out to steal a formula."
"Suppose they succeeded, Tom," Bud remarked, "and did get a rocket into 
free flight. They'd be able to establish a space platform out in the two-hour orbit 
and rule the world from it."
"You're right, Bud," Tom said soberly. "And what's more, I believe that's 
exactly their objective!"
Thinking about this terrifying problem the two fliers remained silent. But just 
after the amphibian had flown past Boston Harbor, Tom pointed out a 
mountainous fog bank lying ahead.
"That's bad news!" Bud cried. "Guess we'll have to climb over it."
"I'll call the Weather Bureau and ask about the fog," Tom replied.
The bureau reported that the treacherous "soup" had closed in over the 
whole coast line from Nova Scotia down and extended several miles inland. It 
would not burn off for hours.
Tom switched off the radio and took the plane above the dense vapor. When 
they reached the area
A CRACK-UP 65
where he planned to come down, Tom began to lose altitude. The fog was so 
thick that the boys could not see more than two feet ahead. Tom set the 
automatic pilot.
"By dead reckoning we're almost there," he observed presently. "I have a 
hunch we're just a bit to the east of our cove and about ten miles out in the bay."
"Think you'll be able to set her down in this stuff?" Bud asked.
"It's too risky on instruments," Tom said, worried. "But look, Bud!"
Up ahead a rift in the fog showed the water below. Tom instantly banked 
through the hole. A moment later the hull bit into the cold, sullen Atlantic.
"You did it, Tom!"
The two boys breathed sighs of relief as the amphibian churned through the 
water. They had gone only a hundred feet, however, when there was a fearful 
ripping sound outside the plane.
Both boys were hurled to the floor of the cabin, and the amphibian was 
jerked about as if it had been hooked by a giant grapple. It flopped over on one 
side, and the cabin began to fill with sea water. Tom cut the engine and reached 
up to open the door.
"Come on, Bud!" he cried. "We'll have to get out of here quick!"
His friend nodded, braced himself, and boosted Tom through the open hatch.
The plane was settling fast.
"Give me your hand!" Tom yelled.
66 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
He reached down and grabbed the wrist of the heavier boy who was already 
in water up to his chest.
"Our amphib's sinking!" Bud groaned. "Now what are we going to do?"
The fuselage disappeared a moment later and with a hissing sound the craft 
rushed under the swirling surface.
There had been no time to get out the life preservers. The boys tore off their 
jackets and shoes, and floated on their backs for a moment to get their bearings.
"Whatever happened?" Bud exclaimed.
"We ran against something-no idea what," Tom gasped.
"Listen!" Bud commanded.
A powerful boat engine was throbbing nearby.
"Ahoy there!" Tom called.
Not until the boat had come almost within reach of the boys were the men in 
it able to see them. They were fishermen who had heard the plane but were 
unaware of the crack-up.
"You sure came at just the right time," Bud remarked as he and Tom were 
hauled aboard.
The jovial weather-beaten captain told them that they had run afoul of the 
heavy fishing nets.
"That's why we were snapped forward so hard," Tom observed.
"Sorry about your plane," the skipper said, "but I'm glad you fellows are okay. 
The nets are covered by insurance, so don't worry about them."
After thanking the veteran fisherman for the res-
A CRACK-UP 67
cue, Tom said, "All I'm worried about right now is where we are and how 
we're going to reach the place we started out for."
"Almost into the Bay of Fundy!" the captain replied.
"Far from Hankton?"
"Forty land miles," the skipper told him.
Tom groaned. He looked at Bud and exhaled heavily.
"I guess that takes care of our meeting," Bud said.
"You're supposed to be in Hankton at a certain time?" the captain asked.
"Before two o'clock," Tom explained.
"It's only 10:45 now," the captain said, looking at his watch, "and we sure 
aren't going to do any fishing without nets. This is really a speedboat converted 
into a fishing trawler. But she's fast. We'll get you to Hankton in about two hours 
and a half."
"Great!" Tom cried. "Can you do it in this fog?"
"Know the way by heart." The captain laughed. "Men," he said to his crew, 
"how about fixin' these fellows up with coats and shoes? And help 'em dry their 
other things."
The boys were quickly taken care of, then went to stand near the captain 
who was piloting. The speedboat was soon knifing the water at twenty knots. As 
noon approached, the sun created a bright glow through the thick haze.
"It's breaking some," the skipper observed.
"A little fog will be better for carrying out our plans," Tom murmured to Bud.
68 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"Assuming it didn't ground Hein and Johnson somewhere else," his friend 
rejoined.
"If this fog lifts a bit more," the captain remarked, "we can hold our speed all 
the way in!"
It did lift considerably for the last three miles. As the craft streaked in wide 
open, the fishing dock and the two adjacent coves of Hankton loomed up ahead.
"Bud!" Tom whispered. "Two aluminum seaplanes are here!"
"I see the one at the main dock," Bud said in a low voice. "Where's the 
other?"
"At Gray's dock," Tom replied. "The point of land is hiding it now."
"Where do you want to land?" the skipper asked.
"The main dock-dead ahead," Tom replied. He decided that it would be the 
least suspicious place to come ashore.
The boat made a neat approach and touched without a tremor on the 
opposite side of the dock from the suspect seaplane.
"That was a fast run," Tom said. "We're here ahead of schedule. We sure 
appreciate your help."
"We owe you two coats and two pairs of shoes," Bud said. "We'll send 'em up 
by Christmas!"
The boys waved good-by to their rescuers, then started cautiously along the 
dock toward town. The place seemed to be deserted.
Suddenly they saw Asa Pike appear from a side street. He stumbled toward 
the boys.
"Something's happened to him!" Bud cried.
CHAPTER 8
STOWAWAYS
AS THE BOYS raced up to Asa Pike, he limped toward a pile of lobster pots. 
Motioning for silence, he beckoned them to follow him around the pile into a 
weather-beaten shed.
When they had crowded into the small shack, the old man related that Hein 
and Johnson had entered Gray's house while he was trying to telephone Tom a 
second time.
"You see, they came in early, on account o' the fog, I guess, an' I wanted to 
warn ye," Asa went on. "So I started to call ye. All of a sudden Hein comes an' 
grabs the phone out o' my hand."
"Then what happened?" Bud asked.
"They locked me in the root cellar an' went upstairs," Asa continued. "I finally 
managed to break out through a weak board. The outside doors were locked, so 
I had to sneak in the house an' jump out of a window. I near busted my leg."
69
70 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"Too bad," said Tom sympathetically. "Better not use it for a while. Are Hein 
and Johnson still at the house?" he asked quickly.
"Yup. Heard their voices after I jumped."
"Good. Bud and I will go right up there and investigate," Tom said. "But you'd 
better wait in the general store, Asa. It'll be safer for you, in case of any trouble. 
Can you make it alone?"
"I kin git to the store all right," Asa said. "But ye fellers better do some fast 
thinkin'. I'm sure from what those two men said that they'll be flyin' away pretty 
quick. They got their mail."
He explained that Johnson's plane was the one at the public dock. Hein had 
brought in the other.
"Come on, Bud!" Tom urged. "Asa, if we don't sec you again on this trip, let 
us know anything else you find out."
"You betcha."
With Tom in the lead they ran toward the public dock where one of the 
aluminum seaplanes was moored. As Bud sprinted along, he called:
"What are we going to do?"
"Stow away!" Tom replied. "We'll hide in the luggage compartment."
"And fly with Johnson, maybe to the gang's base?" Bud asked.
"Exactly! As soon as we've spotted their hide-out, we'll try to take over and 
head back home with our prisoner!"
"Then go back and capture the rest, you old bloodhound?" Bud grinned.
STOWAWAYS 71
Tom nodded as he climbed down the wooden ladder to the seaplane's 
pontoon and entered the cabin. Bud followed. A few moments later Johnson 
came walking rapidly down the dock. Tom and Bud slid feet first into the luggage 
compartment behind the pilot's seat, closed the door, and stretched out on the 
floor.
"Wow! We just made it!" Bud said.
Johnson's clattering strides stopped. Squeaking sounds indicated that he 
was descending the ladder. Tom and Bud felt the plane shudder slightly as 
Johnson stepped onto the pontoon. They waited tensely, hoping that he would 
not open the compartment door.
Johnson immediately started the engines. The seaplane taxied away from 
the dock and skimmed across the water. In a few minutes it was air-borne.
The pilot flicked on the radio which crackled noisily. He tuned it a bit finer, 
then called Hein.
"Everything okay here, Marv. How about you?"
"Same here." The answer was followed by a low chuckle. "Lucky we got 
away before that guy Swift showed up. He must have wised up Asa Pike, 
somehow."
"Well, we're rid of 'em all now," Hein remarked. "No need to pick up any more 
mail. And now that we have some sort of an idea of how Swift's fuel kicker works, 
it won't take Rotzog long to figure out how to build one."
Inside the luggage compartment Bud gripped his friend's arm. So these 
spies, working together, had
72 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
stolen the secret! And their probable leader was someone named Rotzog!
The radio was switched off and the boys lay in darkness listening to the dull 
roar of the motors. Tom wriggled over on his side to see a tiny pencil of light 
entering their otherwise dark prison. A faulty rivet had apparently become 
dislodged.
He managed to work his way over to the wall, and by placing his face right 
against the metal plates, he could look out through the rivet hole to see an 
endless stretch of tall timber and a sprinkling of tiny lakes. A brilliant sun 
shimmered on the water's surface. Tom guessed that they had ridden about a 
hundred miles inland.
"We must be in the Canadian woods!" he whispered, feeling sure that he 
recognized the terrain.
For another half-hour the plane flew at high altitude and then it speedily 
began to descend.
"Be ready to do what I tell you, Bud!" Tom whispered. "I'm going to take 
Johnson by surprise!"
"Okay!" Bud said softly.
During the long ride, Tom had been formulating a plan. He removed his belt 
and asked Bud for his.
Suddenly the radio silence was broken. They heard Hein say:
"Ed, I'll go in first."
"I'll be right on your tail," Johnson replied.
The plane went into a sweeping bank.
"I must work fast!" Tom told Bud. "When I yell your name, take over the 
controls!"
"Right."
STOWAWAYS 73
As quietly as possible Tom opened the compartment door. With a catlike 
movement he hurled himself at Johnson, looping one of the belts down over the 
arms of the startled pilot. At the same instant he switched off the radio. His move 
was just in time to prevent Johnson's outcry from being heard by Hein.
"Bud!" Tom yelled, jerking Johnson sideways from the seat.
As the man fell to the floor, Bud slipped into Johnson's place and put on the 
automatic pilot. Then he turned to help Tom.
Johnson, who had been caught unawares, was quickly bound and gagged. 
Tom forced him into the luggage compartment, then called:
"Bud, turn on the radio again. We don't want Hein to become suspicious. I 
noticed their special wave band is marked 14X."
Tom crawled back. Bud had leveled the plane, and now at a thousand feet 
the boys could clearly discern the entire shore line of a large lake, deep in the 
wilderness.
Since the radio was on, neither boy spoke a word but Tom pointed. Scattered 
in several small clearings along the water front were buildings and tanks of 
various heights. On the top of one tank were painted the words:
EXCELSIOR OIL CO.
experimental station
Bud turned the plane sharply to the right in order to give the boys a better 
glimpse of the place. But
74 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
the plane had already overshot the clearings and the trees blocked their 
view.
"What's the matter?" Hein called suddenly on the radio. "Are you in trouble?"
The boys stared at each other. How to answer? Hein, who had already 
landed on the big lake, radioed his question again.
"Okay," Tom replied, trying to imitate Johnson's voice. "Just taking a look at 
something,"
Hein called back and suggested that Johnson waste no time coming in. Tom 
and Bud grinned. It had worked! Now for another look at the clearings, then 
streak off with their captive!
Tom took over, but a moment later a new movement on the lake arrested his 
eye. A delta-wing sea jet came from under cover and taxied across the water.
With a catlike movement Tom
STOWAWAYS
75
"We'd better get out of here fast!" Bud yelled before he realized that the radio 
was on. He groaned in dismay. He had ruined Tom's plan!
Instantly Hein began giving instructions to the jet pilots to intercept the 
seaplane. Tom nosed the plane over into a steep dive as he saw the jet climbing 
almost vertically to intercept him. He opened the throttle wide, decreased the 
dive angle, and roared toward the far end of the huge lake.
"I'll go back along the treetops," Tom decided.
hurled himself at Johnson
76 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
Over the radio Hein's voice commanded, "Land here immediately or you'll be 
strafed!"
Disregarding the warning, Tom stayed in the power dive and thundered 
toward the water. The jet flipped over and tried to catch the seaplane's underbelly 
with short bursts of gunfire. The bullets sprayed the cabin, some of them burning 
small holes into the aluminum wings.
"They really mean business!" Bud groaned.
Approaching the water, Tom pulled out of the dive, cut the power, and 
leveled off toward the trees. The jet, drawn far out of position by the passes it 
had made, now came sweeping in again to make another run.
Suddenly the port engine sputtered. Then it coughed and died.
"Get ready for a crash!" Tom cried. "I'll brake her all I can!" With that, he 
lowered the flaps.
Looking ahead, he saw the timbered shore line looming at the end of the 
narrow cove they had just entered. The jet, losing its target behind the high pine 
trees, peeled off and disappeared.
But the seaplane, still traveling too fast to land on the water, skimmed along 
the length of the cove and plowed crazily into the rocky shore!
CHAPTER 9
AN INVENTIVE ESCAPE
TOSSED ABOUT violently in the cabin, both boys were stunned by the 
crash. Tom was the first to recover and crawled to where Bud lay, still dazed.
"Bud!" he cried, gently slapping his friend's cheek. "Come on, boy! We've got 
to get out of here. They'll be back to strafe us!"
Bud shook his head slowly in response.
"Okay, chief," he said, sitting up and managing a weak grin. "Lucky we're still 
in one piece!"
Quickly the boys got to their feet and looked at their captive. Johnson, too, 
apparently was only stunned.
"As long as he's not hurt, let's drag Johnson into the woods and leave him," 
Tom said. "We'll come back later and get him."
This accomplished, Tom plunged ahead.
"Where are you aiming?" Bud asked.
77
78 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"I think," Tom replied, "that the only way out of this trap is to get to that 
clearing ahead. I spotted it just before we crashed."
"Suits me," Bud said, and after looking around at the wilderness, added, 
"Lead the way, trail blazer!"
For the next hour the boys, ignoring their injuries, continued toward the 
clearing Tom had spotted. Finally Bud saw a path. They followed it and moments 
later emerged on a corduroy road.
"Well," Bud remarked, "the going won't be so tough now."
Their relief was short-lived, however. They heard the whir of an approaching 
helicopter and dived for cover. A bullet ripped into the floor of the forest only ten 
feet away!
When another shot struck directly in front of them on the road, Tom and Bud 
looked around frantically for a safe hiding place. Seeing a tumble-down shack a 
short distance from the road, they raced toward it.
Unfortunately, the shack proved to be a decoy. Suddenly a stranger with a 
rifle clutched in his hands came silently toward them from the shadows.
The man shot into the air. Then, pointing with his free hand, he motioned the 
boys to walk out to the road again. With no other choice they glumly obeyed. To 
their relief, the shooting had stopped. Evidently their captor had fired to 
announce that he had caught the intruders.
The helicopter lowered to treetop height and a heavy rope ladder was 
dropped. A short, dark man in a white flying suit appeared on the ladder below 
the
AN INVENTIVE ESCAPE 79
hatch. With a wave of his hand he gestured for Tom and Bud to climb up.
"We'll make a bargain," Tom called. "You let us go and we'll tell where one of 
your men is a prisoner!"
Silence!
"These fellows aren't very talkative," Bud complained. "Ouch!" he cried as 
their captor's rifle jabbed into his back.
Tom wondered why they were not interested in Johnson. "They must have 
picked him up!" he decided.
Still no word was spoken by the fliers as the boys climbed up to the cabin, 
where they saw two other men. The ladder was hauled up, and the craft, rising 
high above the trees, started back toward the clearings on the lake.
As they neared a wide peninsula that jutted into the lake, Tom saw a 
sprawling complex group of camouflaged fuel tanks and buildings that resembled 
his own experimental rocket project. It was almost as big as Tom's on Fearing 
Island. This was no oil company's experimental station!
Before Tom could nudge Bud to look at the place, blindfolds were tied about 
their heads. The helicopter was lowered and the boys were escorted oul They 
were marched in silence a few hundred yards. A door squeaked and they were 
abruptly yanked to a halt.
Their blindfolds were removed, permitting the prisoners to see that they were 
in a large room. Their
80 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
guard, without a word, turned on his heel, slammed the door and slid a bolt 
on the outside. They heard him stride away.
"These guys must be foreigners!" Bud whispered to Tom. "They probably 
didn't want to give away their nationality by talking!"
Tom nodded. "That's my opinion. And, if the gang has a test base this size," 
he said, "I suspect that they must have a super rocket like our own somewhere."
"Who are they then?" Bud asked. "And where's their main base?"
"Two man-sized questions!" Tom replied. "I wish I could answer them."
He surveyed their prison. It was a sparsely furnished, one-room building of 
strong wooden construction. Two windows, one in front and one in back, high in 
the walls, were barred.
"Boost me up to this front window, Bud, and I'll take a look outside," Tom 
said.
His friend swung him upward with an easy movement.
"We're at the edge of the woods," Tom reported in a whisper. "There's a big 
cargo seaplane at the dock being unloaded. Oh-oh, a bearded character's 
heading this way!"
"Let me see him!" Bud said softly, and they exchanged places.
The man, holding a rifle, stationed himself at the door of the shack.
Tom, meanwhile, quietly inspected the window.
AN INVENTIVE ESCAPE 81
The frame and the bars were made of aluminum.
"If I only had some mercury and a glass of water, we could get out of here!" 
he said, getting down.
"Sure," said Bud. "If I had a bomb, I could blow us out."
Tom smiled and continued his examination of the room. Suddenly he 
stopped.
"Just the thing!" he whispered excitedly. "That thermometer on the wall. Bud, 
ask the guard for a drink of water."
"But I don't see the connection," Bud said, giving his friend a puzzled look.
"I want to try a little experiment," Tom replied as he took down the 
thermometer.
Bud knocked and the guard opened the door. When it became evident that 
he did not understand English, Bud went through the motions of drinking. The 
man obliged with a bottle of water, and then barred the door again.
Tom climbed onto Bud's shoulders again, but this time at the rear window. 
The young inventor broke the thermometer tube and let the mercury drip against 
various sections of the aluminum frame. Bud watched in fascinated silence. "This 
mercury ought to cut through the oxide surface on the aluminum," Tom 
explained. "Now for the water."
Bud handed up the bottle and slowly Tom poured the water on to the place 
where the mercury drops had fallen. The aluminum began to dissolve. After 
several applications, the chemical had eaten through the frame.
82 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"Pst!" he signaled. "I've done it!"
"Honestly? Now what?" Bud asked.
"As soon as I pull these bars out, we're going to get away in that cargo 
plane!"
"How about the guard?" Bud asked as Tom easily pulled out the bars.
"We'll take care of him. Come on!"
Bud followed Tom through the window and dropped to the ground.
"I'll duck behind that big bush," Tom whispered. "You make a scraping sound 
to attract the guard. When he comes around here to investigate, jump him. I'll 
open the door and we'll lock him in."
When Tom was well hidden about ten feet from the building, Bud broke off a 
branch and swished it around on the ground. The guard heard the sound and 
came on a run. Soon he rounded the corner, muttering to himself.
Bud leaped on him and clapped a hand over the man's mouth. Before the 
guard could recover from the surprise attack, Tom had flung open the door and 
was back to help Bud. He tied one handkerchief firmly over the guard's mouth 
and with another bound the man's wrists together behind his back. The boys 
placed him on the cabin's cot and bolted the door.
"Now let's get out of here!" Tom urged.
Both he and Bud knew it would take only a little while for the guard to tear the 
handkerchiefs off. But the boys hoped that by then they would be safely away. 
Running at top speed through the woods, the
AN INVENTIVE ESCAPE 83
two did not pause until they came to a small rise about a hundred yards from 
the cargo plane.
"We can watch for our chance from here!" Tom whispered, and crawled 
forward to the edge of the underbrush.
There was a bustle of great activity at the docked sky freighter. The four-man 
crew, jabbering in a foreign language which the boys did not understand, carried 
box after box down the ramp to small trucks. Finally, the pilot waved to the truck 
drivers.
"They've finished discharging the cargo," Tom murmured. "Now if all of them 
will only leave!"
To the boys' relief, the pilot and his crew hopped onto one of the trucks and 
rode across the clearing toward what appeared to be a mess hall.
"This is it!" Tom cried. "Dig for the plane!"
"Okay, skipper."
They raced across the rough ground onto the dock. Only a short distance 
remained to be covered when Bud spotted a guard atop the hangar.
"Step on it!" he cried.
Tom scrambled into the big plane. Looking back only long enough to see Bud 
inside and hauling up the ramp, which also served as door, he continued straight 
through the empty cargo space into the pilot's compartment. Leaping into the 
seat, he fired the starter and pushed the throttle forward. The jet engines 
thundered into action. Without losing a second, Tom gunned the plane out across 
the water and it rose into the air.
As he headed the plane southward, Tom looked
84 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
down and saw a jet seaplane taking off. He opened up all three engines and 
the plane sped along on its course.
"Before that interceptor can catch up to us, we'll be back in civilization," Tom 
thought hopefully.
A sudden cry from the cargo space snapped the young pilot out of his 
musing.
"Tom! Tom!" he heard Bud calling faintly.
Putting the plane on automatic pilot, Tom started back to see what was 
wrong. When he reached the rear of the cargo space, he stared in horror. Bud's 
arm was trapped in the loading door.
A strong wind could tear the door off and blow his friend out!
Tom started forward to extricate Bud's arm when a blast of gunfire ripped into 
the starboard wing.
"Don't let 'em get us!" Bud pleaded.
"But your arm-" Tom said.
'Til-hold on-"
Torn between anxiety for his friend and the immediate urgency to escape, 
Tom paused for a split second. But another burst of fire sent him racing back to 
the pilot's seat, where he took over the controls. The pursuing jet was riding the 
freighter's tail!
Instantly Tom cut the motors and threw the plane into a yaw. The sudden 
braking effect which this maneuver produced forced the attacking jet to come up 
alongside the larger ship. In this position the enemy's guns could not be brought 
to bear on Tom.
Tom banked sharply toward the fighter plane un-
AN INVENTIVE ESCAPE 85
til his right wing tip was directly underneath the left wing of the other plane. 
Then suddenly he flipped up the right wing of the heavy cargo plane, to tip the 
tiny jet over on its side, and send it downward into a crazy spin.
By the time the enemy pilot regained control, Tom had the throttle wide open 
and was streaking out of range. Then he put the ship on automatic pilot, turned 
on the radio, and hurried back to Bud.
He was stunned to see Bud's head hanging downward, his knees sagging 
toward the deck. The boy was in agonizing pain!
CHAPTER 10
A ROBOT AT WORK
AS BUD fought bravely to retain consciousness-his eyes were closed and he 
was panting-Tom realized that his copilot might suffer a permanent arm injury.
From a block and tackle overhead he cut off a length of quarter-inch rope 
and tied his friend to a stanchion, so that when the door was released, Bud would 
not be sucked out.
Tom pressed the lever which controlled the door, but discovered that it was 
not working. Bud must have tried to pull the door shut by hand the last few 
inches, and his arm had become caught.
Perspiration stood out on Tom's brow. He had to act fast! Tying himself also 
to the stanchion, Tom pushed with all his might against the door. It did not budge.
He released the air pressure and then switched the control lever to the open 
position. As a fresh surge of compressed air hit the piston, Tom smashed into the
86
A ROBOT AT WORK 87
door with his shoulder. There was a sudden explosion of air and the door 
gave way.
He pulled Bud's arm in and locked the door as the copilot sank to the floor. 
Then he rushed back to the pilot's seat and took a quick look at the terrain.
Banking downward toward the river, he could see that he was approaching 
the city of Montreal. Tom radioed for medical assistance, then made a neat 
landing on the river. An ambulance was waiting to take Bud off the moment the 
air freighter stopped.
"Easy!" Tom called to the medicos, and explained what had happened to his 
friend, who now had lapsed into semiconsciousness.
They removed Bud at once to a hospital, Tom riding along in the ambulance. 
While he waited for news of his friend's condition, the young inventor telephoned 
the police and gave them the story. They impounded the freighter, and assured 
Tom that they would investigate the Excelsior Oil Company plant at once and let 
Tom know the result.
Next, Tom put in a call to Fearing Island. He spoke to Harlan Ames and 
reported the latest developments.
"Lucky you and Bud got out of that place alive," he commented. "Suppose I 
send a plane up to bring you back."
"Do that."
Ames held the wire so that he might hear the report on Bud. A nurse came to 
tell Tom that his friend had regained consciousness and could be released from 
the hospital in a couple of hours. His
88 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
arm had not been badly injured, thanks to Tom's quick thinking. Tom relayed 
the good news to Ames, then hung up.
An hour later, while seated in a lounge waiting for Bud, Tom was amazed to 
see the boy walk in, a doctor behind him. Bud's right arm was in a sling.
"Golly, it's good to see you!" Tom exclaimed. "I thought we weren't going to 
be able to take that rocket trip after all."
"I'm going on that trip if I have to be carried into the rocket!" Bud rejoined, 
laughing. "Only let's make sure the doors are shut next time."
But Tom noticed a grimace of pain cross his friend's face as his sore arm 
brushed against the wall.
"You're lucky not to have lost it," the doctor said. "See your own physician 
when you get home."
"We weren't going home," Tom spoke up, "but if- "
"What's the matter with Doc Carman on the island?" Bud said. "Let's go!"
The boys were driven to the airport where they saw one of their fast jets just 
coming in. Arvid Hanson was piloting it. As soon as he learned that Bud's arm 
would be all right in a few days, Hanson remarked wryly:
"I believe you fellows would be as safe up in space as you are on this 
planet."
Tom laughed. "Maybe safer."
He and Bud climbed aboard and headed for Fearing Island. When they 
landed a few hours later, Har-lan Ames hurried over to meet them.
A ROBOT AT WORK 89
"You're both all right?" he asked quickly.
"Sure," Bud replied. "Meet the magic-carpet boys. The minute Tom and I are 
captured, we fly away."
The others grinned, then walked over to the hangar.
"Any word from the Canadian police yet?" Tom asked.
"No word yet," Ames replied.
"Any other news?"
"Yes. Your father phoned that the interplanetary gyro was ready to be picked 
up. Hank Sterling went to get it."
"Good," Tom said. "Bud," he added, as his friend yawned loudly, "you'd 
better get some shut-eye."
"How about you? A tough day for you too."
"Oh, I'll come along," Tom promised. "I want to look over a few things before 
I turn in."
"Okay, night owl." Bud winked at Hanson. "Watch out for a new invention by 
morning. But be sure to call me if Tom decides to take off in the rocket. I think 
he's trying to shake me off."
He was driven away in a jeep by Hanson, while Tom went to the 
communications office to be on hand for news from Canada. Weariness finally 
overcame him and he lay down on a cot in one of the rooms. But at daybreak 
Billing awakened him.
"We have a report you'll never believe!" he began. "The Canadian police 
arrived at the rocket base within an hour after they got your call."
"And captured the whole gang," Tom broke in.
"Captured nobody. The place is a ghost town!"
90 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"What!" Tom burst out incredulously. "But how about their fuel tanks and 
other equipment?"
"Most of their gear was blown up or just abandoned," Billing replied. "And the 
personnel had vanished-every single one of them!"
"Have you any idea where they went?" Tom asked. "Did they leave any 
clues?"
"No clues, but most likely they flew over the North Pole in long-range super 
jets," Billing answered. "A lumberman reported seeing a large number of planes 
heading northeast. The police figure Hein's crowd knew that if they fled in any 
other direction they'd have been tracked easily."
"Sounds reasonable," Tom said. "What's next?"
Billing reported that a guard had been set up at the abandoned base and a 
study of the layout would be made.
Tom's disappointment was deep. The criminals had escaped again!
In a sober mood he lay down once more and for an hour turned the problem 
over in his mind. He dozed off finally, but was awakened by a buzzing sound in 
the next room. A signal! Jumping up, he rushed out.
"Maybe it's news of those rocket men," he thought excitedly.
But the summons was for a completely different reason.
"Sterling is calling," Hanson said. "He's in trouble. A strange jet is trying to 
force him down! They're in a dogfight right now!"
A ROBOT AT WORK 91
"Did you get his position?" Tom cried.
"Yes-only two hundred miles west of here!"
"I'll go to help him!" Tom announced. "And I'll need the fastest thing on the 
island. That's the Sky Queen. Anyway, I want to tow in Hank's attacker."
Without explaining further, Tom flipped on the loud-speaker and began to 
bark orders to the crew of the Flying Lab to warm up the mammoth ship. Then he 
requested that they roll one of the interceptor robots into the Sky Queen. Finally 
he called Hanson to accompany him.
"Be ready in a minute!" Hanson replied. "Roger!'r
The two met at the airfield and immediately climbed into the Sky Queen. As 
the needle-nosed drone was being fitted into the hangar of the Flying Lab, Tom 
gave Hanson instructions on what he was to do with the robot. Then Hanson took 
up a position at the remote-control unit near the small plane. This beeper had 
been made stationary in the hangar.
Tom had already rushed up to the second deck to prepare for the take-off. 
Only ten minutes had elapsed since the call for help had come!
The Sky Queen lunged upward in a fiery blast, and seconds later was 
streaking along through the sky on her way to intercept Sterling's attacker. Tom 
contacted Hank and learned that the fight was still on. A few minutes later, 
traveling at a twelve-hundred-mile-an-hour rate of speed, the Flying Lab arrived 
on the scene.
Far below, two small black dots were maneuvering
92 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
wildly. The Sky Queen bore down toward them.
"Okay, Arvid!" Tom called on the intercom. "Go
to work on him! Come up behind with the robot!"
The hangar door opened and Tom saw the released dummy plane shoot 
downward. Skillfully Hanson beeped the drone toward its mark.
"You're directly on the fellow!" Tom phoned down. "Veer him off to the right a 
couple of degrees! Get him away from Hank!"
"Okay!" Hanson responded.
Tom watched tensely as Hank's attacker, now desperate, made a sudden 
maniacal attempt to execute a pass at the other plane.
"He must have felt the forcer," Hanson reported. "I made contact for a 
moment, then lost him."
The strange convoy glided past the guarding
A ROBOT AT WORK
93
"Try again," Tom urged.
The enemy pilot was trying to come in from the right side. As he completed 
his turn for the new approach angle, the powerful landing forcer caught the plane 
in its electronic grip and rolled it violently away. Hank's jet streaked ahead, 
unmolested.
"We've got him now!" Hanson cried excitedly into the phone. "Are you going 
to ground him here, Tom?"
"No. We'll force him in at Fearing Island."
As the strange quartet of aircraft headed for the ocean rocket base, Hank 
Sterling radioed Tom.
"Thanks, Tom!" he said. "That robot sure is a honey. Why, it picked that 
plane off its course like an ace rifleman after a bird."
Tom was delighted himself with the performance of the pilotless jet robot. 
"Did you have a rough time with that fellow?" he asked.
robots toward the airstrip
94 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"He almost got me. I thought I could outfly him but couldn't. Have you any 
idea who he is?"
''I suspect it's part of a gang that's trying to wreck the rocket project," Tom 
replied.
"Good thing you arrived!" Hank continued. "This secret unit might never have 
gotten to your base."
"Is it okay?"
"Yes!"
"Well, you go ahead with it and land first," Tom advised, as they approached 
the Atlantic Ocean.
"Maybe we'll learn something from this fellow that we failed to get from Hein 
and the others," Tom mused, as they flew across the stretch of water to Fearing 
Island and circled for a landing.
The strange convoy glided past the guarding robots toward the airstrip. Hank 
Sterling had already taxied to the hangar.
Tom cut in the Queens landing jets and hovered to allow the two small craft 
to go in first. After they had reached the field, Tom lowered the Flying Lab.
As he approached the airstrip, the young inventor's pulse quickened. What 
clue to the enemy's identity would this latest captive reveal?
CHAPTER 1 1
A CODED THREAT
AS THE THREE planes landed, mechanics rushed onto the Fearing Island 
airfield and surrounded them. One group taxied the robot jet to a hangar, but the 
other men stood by awaiting orders.
Tom cut the jet lifters a notch and the Sky Queen settled onto the take-off 
disk.
As he dashed down the steps past the first deck, where Hanson was coming 
from the hangar, Tom called:
"Great job! You handled the beeper like a veteran!"
Hanson grinned. Together, they ran over to the captured plane where Ames 
joined them. The pilot sat in stony silence. He was black-mustached and thin, 
about forty years of age.
"What's your name?" Tom demanded, pushing back the plastic cowling.
The answer was a glare of hate.
95
96 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"I'll look for identification," Ames spoke up, and as soon as the pilot had 
climbed out of the plane he went through the man's pockets. But the security 
officer found nothing.
"There may be something in his plane," Tom suggested. "Take our visitor to 
the hangar office."
While Arvid Hanson and several others accompanied the prisoner, Tom and 
Ames climbed into the jet to make a thorough search. Ten minutes later they 
were about to admit defeat on every count exv cept fingerprints-and Ames felt 
these probably were not listed with the FBI-when Tom cried:
"Wait! Just a minute!"
He had noticed that the jet's fuselage was built of an aluminum sheathing 
over a laminated plywood shell. Upon investigation, Tom found that the 
combined thicknesses added up to only an eighth of an inch. Near the floor of the 
cockpit a black line of trimming ran along the wall.
As Tom inched his fingers over the area his nails suddenly caught on the 
trim. Over it was a thin strip of tape which he quickly tore off.
"Here's something!" he exclaimed, as his right forefinger touched the edge of 
a flat parchment packet tucked in between the inside wood and the metal hull. 
Tom snatched it out.
The pouch held three items: two air charts with routes marked in red ink and 
a hastily scribbled note. It seemed to be written in code, but the last word fairly 
jumped off the page at Tom. It was Rotzog.
Elated by his find and sensing its top-secret nature,
A CODED THREAT 97
Tom thrust the pouch into his inner pocket. He and Ames hurried to the 
young inventor's office where Tom spread out the three papers on a desk. 
Starting with the charts, they noted that one traced a route from Fearing Island to 
the abandoned rocket base in Canada.
"This links our visitor with the spies all right!" Ames exclaimed.
Tom picked up the other map and whistled.
"Ames!" he cried. "Billing guessed right about where those planes probably 
went. This course runs on the great circle from the rocket base all the way to the 
Bering Sea!"
The agent's eyes followed the red line that tracked north of Quebec, across 
Hudson Bay and Great Bear Lake, past the Yukon and far out over the Bering 
Sea. It ended at an infinitesimally small island, charted but nameless, in the 
Aleutian chain.
"That might be their main rocket base!" Tom cried. "Now we're getting 
somewhere! I'm going up there to take a look!"
Ames laid a hand on Tom's shoulder. "If you'll accept some friendly advice," 
he said, "you'll stay right here and get your own rocket into space. Let the police 
handle those fellows."
"You're right," said Tom, "and we don't have any time to waste, but Bud and I 
both have personal scores to settle with that bunch."
"Remember this," said Ames. "The rocket project of these rivals may be on 
the level even if it's secret. The crimes of the group that have been bothering
98 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
you may be instigated by the national backers and not known to the 
scientists who are building the rocket."
"That's good logic," Tom conceded as he turned his attention to the coded 
note.
Using a code book he took from the drawer, Tom, with the security man's 
help, pored over the note signed by Rotzog, trying to decipher its message.
"It must be in a foreign language," Tom finally decided. "We'll have to get the 
FBI to help us."
The young scientist walked to the videophone, flicked on the New York 
circuit, and got Rick Dalton, his Northeast telecaster. Holding the paper up before 
the camera, Tom asked him to photograph the message from his screen and go 
at once to the FBI office to have it decoded.
"Call back as soon as you can," Tom urged. "I'll hold our prisoner here until 
we hear from you."
"Okay, Tom!" Dalton replied, and faded off the screen.
In the meantime, Tom had the equipment from Shopton moved to his 
laboratory. If he felt after a thorough test that the new interplanetary gyro was 
better than the one which had been installed in the rocket, he would make the 
switch.
Bud arrived, and for two hours the boys busied themselves with delicate 
adjustments of the intricate equipment. Before Tom had a chance to run a final 
check, he was summoned to the videophone.
"I have the code translation for you and wait until you hear the message!" 
Dalton cried.
A CODED THREAT 99
He flashed a typed version of the note on the screen. It read:
INTERCEPT ALL TRIPS OF SWIFT ROCKET MEN. AVOID ISLAND. MEET 
AT CARP ON FOURTEENTH FOR FURTHER ORDERS. ROTZOG.
"The FBI is already working on the case," Dalton reported. "Anything else 
you want done?"
"No," Tom replied. "And thanks for the quick work."
"Who is this Rotzog?" Bud asked after the videophone was shut off. "Maybe 
he's the same one who was sending the letters to Hein and Johnson. Well, at 
least it's fairly certain that we've got the label of the to\. man!"
"The label, yes. But how about the location?" Tom mused. "I wonder if Carp 
is one of the islands in the Aleutian chain." He looked in an atlas but failed to find 
it. "Probably the secret name for their base," he decided.
Tom went on to say that there might be an international angle to the problem. 
Perhaps a foreign group had helped themselves to an island owned by the 
United States. He now went to interview the prisoner. The man with the thin 
mustache was amazed to hear what had been learned since his capture. 
Nevertheless, he refused to admit a thing.
"I'll have the FBI come for you and your plane," Tom told him, then returned 
to his work.
Bud was uneasy. Finally he admitted that he was
100 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
worried. When the stranger did not report to his superior, Rotzog probably 
would assign others to intercept all trips from the island and redouble his efforts 
to wreck any rocket launchings.
"Can't you invent an 'and' something or other for safety?" he asked Tom. 
"Oh, I know we've grabbed the intruders each time so far, but I'm jittery."
Tom smiled. "I'll think up something," he promised. "What you need, Bud, is 
action. How about a little trip in the Sky Queen?"
Bud's eyes glowed in anticipation. "Where? Carp?"
"No, straight up. We still have to test my combination cosmic-ray altimeter 
and stellar sextant in the air."
This sensational invention of Tom's, with which the rocket pilot could know at 
all times his interstellar navigational position, ranked second only to the kicker.
"I thought you wouldn't need it," Bud remarked. "You have that super-duper 
flight tape recorder."
"Yes, but if something should go wrong with that, it would be mighty handy to 
know exactly where we are."
"I'll say," Bud replied. "If I get lost in space and never can fly back to this 
earth, it might help to know what stars I'm kicking around with."
Tom gave his copilot a friendly jab and they started for their quarters to eat 
lunch. To their surprise, Chow was not at the cottage and no preparations had 
been made for the noonday meal.
A CODED THREAT 101
"Where do you suppose he is?" Tom asked. "It's not like our Texan to be 
absent."
Suddenly Bud grinned. "I think I know. Come on!"
He led the way toward a cove in the island's coast line. "I'll bet Chow's talking 
to his electric eels."
Tom laughed. While on a trip to South America the Texan had caught two of 
the strange eels which shock their prey into insensibility. Chow had decided that 
hereafter he would use them to do his fishing for him. Accordingly, he had 
brought the electric eels to Fearing Island and constructed a weir for them in the 
cove.
The fence was strong and had held well, but up to the moment no large fish 
had entered it to be shocked. Chow, still hopeful, visited his project at every low 
tide, no matter what time of day or night it occurred.
They saw the chef about fifty yards off shore in water up to his middle. He 
looked very unhappy as he waded toward the shore.
"What happened?" Bud cried. "Fish bite you?"
"Shucks, no!" Chow called back. "Ain't no fish here!"
"No fish!"
"Even lost my eels!" Chow added mournfully.
"Where's your boat?" Tom asked, knowing that the Texan always went out in 
a rowboat.
"Lost my oars an' I fell out o' the dang-busted boat tryin' to capture my eels. 
Then the boat got caught in a current an' off she went!"
102 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
Chow trudged onto the beach. Quarts of sea water oozed and trickled from 
his clothing and shoes. The boys howled with laughter.
"Well, brand my sea lights!" Chow said. "I thought you fellows would be sorry 
not to have a fish dinner." Reaching the house, he heaved a great sigh. "I'm 
afraid my menu for today is ruined," he lamented.
After the disappointed cook had changed into dry clothing, he prepared pork 
chops and a corn pudding, and topped the meal off with an apple pie he had 
made earlier.
Though the boys praised his skill, Chow was glum. He asked if Tom was 
going to South America soon and if he would bring him some more electric eels.
"Afraid not," Tom replied. "But if you want anything from a hundred thousand 
feet off the earth, I might oblige you. Bud and I are taking off right away for a little 
experiment."
"With those folks from another planet?" Chow asked eagerly. "You mean you 
got that lil ole gadget figured out so's you kin talk to 'em?"
Tom told him that the "gadget" was to be radio impulses in the form of 
mathematical symbols. They would convey a message to the space beings.
"A message about what?" Chow asked.
"It's clear," Tom replied, "that the only reason these people haven't visited us 
is because they don't know how to penetrate our atmosphere without being 
crushed to death."
"What's the matter with "em?" Chow asked.
A CODED THREAT 103
"I think they may have very light bodies," Tom said, "and be highly 
paramagnetic."
"What's that?" the cook demanded. "See here, Tom, you ought to talk 
English to me."
Both boys laughed, then Tom explained, "The space beings may be affected 
by magnetic lines of force. In that case they would be paralyzed if caught in the 
earth's magnetic field."
"Then they sure better stay off o' this lil ole magnetic planet," Chow declared. 
"We kin git along without 'em anyhow." But suddenly the Texan grinned. 
"However, if you see any o' these queer folks, give 'em my regards."
Chow turned and went into the kitchen. As the boys left the cottage, Tom 
said:
"I hope it won't be long before I can deliver Chow's message. You know, 
Bud, it burns me up that Dad and I can't figure out an answer to those space 
people. To think that they can communicate with us and we can't formulate a 
reply!"
"If you and your dad could concentrate on the problem long enough-" Bud 
got no further, for Tom suddenly snapped his fingers.
"I know how to solve part of the puzzle," he said excitedly.
CHAPTER 12
DANGEROUS ACID
FAMILIAR with Tom's sudden inspirations, Bud waited a full minute before 
interrupting his friend's thoughts. Then he asked Tom how he intended to solve 
the mysterious space beings' problem of penetrating the earth's atmosphere.
"I'll send them an explanation of how to build a degaussing shield to protect 
their bodies."
"Good idea," Bud said. "But how could you ever do that with geometric 
figures?"
"It'll be a lot of work, but I'll do it some day," Tom declared. Then, talking 
more to himself than to Bud, he said, "I might use an arc to represent the shield-"
At this moment the loud-speaker system boomed out the message that Tom 
Swift was wanted at the communications office.
"Bud, you warm up the Flying Lab, will you, while I go see what's wanted," he 
requested.
"Righto," Bud replied, and drove off in a jeep.
104
DANGEROUS ACID 105
When Tom reached the radio room, Billing and Ames were there reading a 
message.
"You must have news," Tom remarked.
"We sure have," Ames replied. "That first spy you caught-Drayton who turned 
out to be Gray-made a full confession to the FBI."
"He squealed on Rotzog?" Tom cried unbelievingly.
"That's right," the security officer answered. "Billing just took the message. 
Rotzog's a crazy scientist, kind of a man without a country. Has a pile of money. 
Nobody knows where it comes from and it's always in cash. He pays his men 
well."
"To spy and steal inventions?" Tom asked.
"That and much more. Gray declares Rotzog claims he's going to rule the 
world from a space platform he's building."
Tom asked if the FBI had caught Rotzog, and was disappointed to learn that 
Gray insisted he did not know where Rotzog was, nor the location of his rocket 
ship. Gray had received all his orders from Hein and had never seen Rotzog.
"Gray and Johnson," said Ames, "began working for the outfit only recently 
and did not know much about the spy work it carried on. But one thing Gray was 
definite about. And, Tom, you can take a bow. Rotzog isn't afraid of any rocket 
builder in this world except you."
Tom smiled and said, "I'll reserve decision on it being a compliment until I 
find out more about Rotzog."
"Well, then, here's bad news," Billing said.
106 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"Rotzog has declared he'll stop at nothing to keep your manned rocket from 
getting into space!"
"So that's it," Tom said, frowning.
"Yes," Ames replied. "And ever since I heard that, I've been figuring out new 
security measures for the island. I thought Rotzog's outfit merely intended to try 
stealing your inventions, but now I'm worried that he means to destroy you!"
Tom was very thoughtful. He also was puzzled. Why wasn't Rotzog worried 
that another entrant in the rocket race might keep him from realizing his dream of 
being master of the world? When he expressed this thought aloud, Ames at once 
said:
"That's easy. You're the only rocket builder who has solved the secret of 
harnessing the sun's energy to do your work for you. With it, you could be master 
over this earth."
"No, thanks." Tom's grim look turned to a smile. "There are too many nuts 
like Rotzog on this planet! I couldn't handle all of them!"
He talked with Ames and Billing for several minutes about added security 
measures. It was decided that every plane used by the islanders would carry a 
ray distorter, an invention of Tom's which had beaten a gang of mysterious 
pirates. The ray distorter was highly effective against paralyzing supersonic ray 
guns. The inventor also ordered enough distorters to be set up on the island to 
shield it completely from aerial attack of this sort.
"I'm going up now in the Sky Queen to test the new dual-duty cosmic-ray 
altimeter and stellar
DANGEROUS ACID 107
sextant," Tom told his friends. "I'll have a distorter rigged on top of the Flying 
Lab before it takes off."
Calling the hangar, he told Bud to wait until this was done. An hour later the 
installation had been made and the giant plane was ready for flight. Tom, Bud, 
Hanson, and Sterling went aboard. Tom cut in the jet lifters.
The ground vibrated as the enormous craft ascended vertically from the 
runway. Surging upward with incredible speed, it pierced the early afternoon 
haze and disappeared from the sight of those on the island.
When the altimeter needle read ten thousand feet, Tom switched to the 
forward thrust jets and the Queen arrowed into a graceful arcing climb.
Putting the plane on gyro pilot, Tom invited the others aft to the laboratory to 
inspect the instrument he had invented. As they entered, he said:
"This navigational equipment is designed only for the rather short distances 
that we expect to travel at first. When we really get out into space we'll depend 
more on the radius indicator."
"How does this invention differ from the ordinary aneroid altimeter that we 
use now?" Hank Sterling asked.
"An altimeter which depends on measuring atmospheric pressure won't work 
at very low air pressures," Tom replied. "This instrument picks up the noisy 
cosmic rays from the sun. The nearer the sun, the noisier the waves."
"How accurate is it?" Hanson asked.
108 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"Within a few feet," Tom replied. "Frankly, this part of the instrument is not 
my own brain child. The idea has been kicking around for some time."
"You dreamed up the navigation part of it?" Bud asked.
"Yes," Tom answered. "I took the principle of solar radiation and applied it to 
the stars. This instrument in the black case picks up the waves from three stars 
and the rocket's position is recorded on the dial-instantly."
"Let's see it work," Hank Sterling urged.
Tom flicked the toggle switch. A whirring sound began and the needle on the 
dial moved instantly to seventy-eight thousand feet. Another switch was snapped 
and five dots appeared on the upper dial.
"The black one at the bottom is the earth," Tom explained. "The three red 
ones are stars."
"The small one must be the fix-the position," Hanson said.
"That's it," Tom replied. "The point of intersection of the lines from the three 
stars."
"How do you know which stars are showing on your screen?"
"Each first-magnitude star sends its own distinct sound," Tom explained. 
"Listen."
Three slightly different beeps were coming from the instrument. From a chart 
Tom identified them as Deneb, Vega, and Altair.
"The greatest feature of this whole thing," Tom continued, "is that the 
instrument can be built into the automatic pilot."
DANGEROUS ACID 109
"You mean," Hanson exclaimed enthusiastically, "that it makes navigation 
and steering a single operation?"
"That's right," Tom replied.
"Amazing," Hank Sterling commented. "And it certainly appears to be in 
perfect working order. Tell me, Tom, have you given it a name yet?"
Tom smiled ruefully. "No. I have a harder job naming some of these things 
than I do figuring them out. Have you any ideas?"
"How about calling it the Spacelane Brain?" Arvid Hanson suggested.
"That sounds like a good name for either the invention or the inventor," Hank 
spoke up. Then, turning to Tom, he added, "I'm all in favor of it. What do you 
think, Tom?"
"It sounds good to me," the inventor answered. "The Spacelane Brain it is."
He turned back to his instruments and entered several readings in the log. 
Without looking up, Tom asked the others if they had noticed the altimeter 
reading.
"Better than eighty thousand feet," Hanson exclaimed. "You know, this is 
closer to Heaven than I've ever been!"
"And maybe as close as you'll get, eh?" Hank needled.
Tom grinned and said, "Let's start down."
The trio went back to the pilot's compartment. They had just seated 
themselves when the Sky Queen trembled slightly.
1TO TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"That's a funny thing to happen all of a sudden!" Bud exclaimed. "It's been 
smooth flying weather up till now. Not a rough spot the whole way."
"The shock seemed to come from aft," Tom said, "not outside. Do you fellows 
want to come with me while I investigate?" He looked at Sterling and Hanson. 
"Bud, keep her on the same heading," he directed his friend.
After checking the panels and seeing that all the jets were okay, the young 
scientist and his friends retraced their steps aft.
"We'll look in the lab," he said. "The trouble might have originated there."
Tom slid back the heavy door of the soundproofed laboratory. A cloud of 
sickening fumes poured out into the passageway. Tom recognized them at once.
"It's hydrofluoric acid!" he cried. "I'll get gas masks!"
The acrid fumes were already burning the tissue in his throat as he ran, 
coughing, to get the masks from a corridor closet.
"Someone must have loosened that acid container," he said to himself as he 
pulled out the masks. "It never could have spilled otherwise!"
Running back to the laboratory, he handed two masks to his friends and 
quickly adjusted his own.
"Come on!" he urged. "If we don't neutralize that stuff, it'll eat a hole right 
through the ship. And if our pressure system fails and our air runs out at this 
height, we're finished!"
CHAPTER 13
A STARTLING ASCENT
AS TOM RUSHED into the laboratory with Sterling and Hanson, he saw that 
a large quantity of spilled, fuming acid had already eaten a hole in the floor and 
penetrated to the lower deck of the plane. It could very well have carried to the 
vulnerable fuselage!
He dove for a locker, grabbed three packages of slaked lime, and handed 
one package to Sterling and one to Hanson.
"Sprinkle this around before the whole deck's chewed away!" he shouted 
through his mask.
Gripping the package, Tom turned and dashed down the passageway to the 
ladder. He slid open the door to the compartment below and nicked on the light 
switch. The acid was at work on the floor here too!
But the area it covered was small and Tom quickly poured the neutralizing 
lime onto the spot. As he
m
112 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
watched to be sure the damage had been checked, he wondered how 
Sterling and Hanson were making out. There was still a possibility that some of 
the acid had fallen into a crevice in the framework and was eating into the hull.
One thing was sure: The Sky Queen must get back to a livable altitude as 
soon as possible! Rushing to the intercom, he cried:
"Bud, dive to the island as fast as you dare!"
Without asking why, Bud obeyed instantly. As the plane lunged downward, 
he sensed from Tom's voice that the lives of its occupants depended on his skill.
From the tightness in his stomach and the weightless feeling in his arms, 
they must be moving about as fast as anyone had ever flown, Tom thought, as 
the diving speed accelerated.
"What's our altitude?" he asked Bud on the intercom.
"Twenty-eight thousand."
"Still mighty dangerous!" Tom thought. "If the fuselage should spring an air 
leak-" He closed the door and started for the ladder but grabbed the telephone 
instead.
"What's it reading now, Bud?"
"Fifteen thousand."
"That's better!" Tom breathed a little more freely in his mask. "Better ease 
her out of the dive, Bud," he said.
As the Sky Queen lost air speed and swept into a graceful downward arc, 
Tom went to check up on the damage in the laboratory. The slaked lime had
A STARTLING ASCENT 113
done its work well, and a few minutes later the plane settled down on the 
airstrip.
While the Sky Queen was being thoroughly aired, Torn questioned every 
member of the crew in charge of the big ship to find out how the hydrofluoric acid 
had become uncapped. He learned that the accident was due to the careless 
handling of the container by one of the young men while installing it. The man felt 
so guilty that he offered to resign, but Tom would not hear of it.
"I'm relieved to know that it wasn't sabotage," the young inventor said.
In the meantime, temporary repairs were begun on the Flying Lab. It would 
be flown to Shopton later for a more complete job.
Toward evening, after the tested altimeter-navigational equipment had been 
installed in the rocket, Tom received a radiotelephone call from his father.
"Everything okay at home?" Tom asked quickly.
"Yes. Fine. But I've just received news from Washington that is rather 
disturbing," Mr. Swift said. "One of our rivals is nearly ready to launch his rocket."
"Good night!" Tom cried. "Well, we'll have to speed things up here. Bring 
Mother and Sandy and the Newtons out to the island day after tomorrow. Bud 
and I will try to take off at two o'clock."
"Listen, Tom," Mr. Swift said gravely, "I want you to win the rocket race 
among nations, of course, but not at the risk of your life. Everything must be 
foolproof before you take off for space!"
114 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"I've seen to that," Tom assured him, "with my anti-G neutralator. And by the 
way, how is work progressing on the other passenger rockets?"
"On schedule," the older inventor replied. "After your first flight, we'll know 
whether to make any changes."
Tom immediately called a conference of his top men and relayed his father's 
message.
"It'll mean extra work to head off this rival Dad speaks of," Tom told them.
"We'll see to it that you're the first one to reach space!" Sterling declared, and 
there was unanimous agreement on the part of the others. "I know it will depend 
on how fast we can all pull together," he added. "What do you say, fellows?"
"Let's go!" Hanson urged. "We'll work all night if necessary."
Feverish preparations continued for several hours until Tom called a halt. But 
everyone was up early the next morning and the work continued. As the noon 
hour approached, Bud urged Tom to go home with him for lunch and a little rest.
"After my morning's work," he said, "I could eat a whole side of beef topped 
off with an apple pie."
"If you do, you'll put a lot of excess weight in that rocket," Tom needled him.
To their surprise, it was a fish dinner that Chow set before them. The 
irrepressible Bud winked at Tom and then began to tease the cook.
"Chow," he said with a sober face, "I take it that you got a new batch of 
electric eels?"
A STARTLING ASCENT 115
"No. I caught this here haddock with a lil ole fish pole," he confessed.
Bud feigned a look of disgust. "Chow, you didn't use a rod!"
The cook grinned sheepishly. "Guess I kin do better with an ole fish pole, 
anyhow. By the way, Tom, has that there rocket o' yours got a name?"
"Yes. It's going to be christened the Star Spear. And she's practically ready 
for orbital flight."
"What does orbital mean?" Chow asked, wrinkling his brow.
"Orbital means a track," Tom replied. "A thing to go around on-a more or less 
circular path."
Bud added, "A rocket in orbital flight is like a baseball swinging at the end of 
a string. The path of the ball in relation to your fist will be its orbit."
Chow doubled up his fist and swung his arm in a circle. "I get it. Go on."
"In the rocket we turn off the motors at a certain altitude," Tom said, "and 
keep on flying along our orbit."
"Hm," Chow grunted. "But after you turn off the motors, what's goin' to keep 
the lil ole rocket goin'?" The cook scratched his bald head. "Why don't she slow 
down an' tumble right back to the earth?"
"Its centrifugal force exactly balances the pull of the earth," Tom answered. 
"And there's no mass of air, as we know it here, to interfere with the rocket and 
slow it down."
"I sure can't figger that," Chow said. "An' you fellows better not count on it 
either. Take along
116 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
enough gas to get back!" He turned and left the room.
When the boys finished eating, they hurried back to the launching area, 
where great tanks of nitric acid and liquid oxygen were being brought alongside 
the towering rocket.
Technicians were loading camera equipment into the ship. The radarmen 
were checking the tracking instruments on a high platform near the edge of the 
area. Tom rode up to the pilot's canopy and installed the tape recorder. He had 
added a new device. The tape could not only be set to start a flight but would 
start automatically if the rocket should take off prematurely.
"When do the recording instruments go in?" Bud asked Tom as he returned 
to the launching platform.
"They're the last thing to be installed," Tom answered. "Members of the 
Rocket Commission are coming out to see them before the instruments are 
sealed up and put in the nose. And they're bringing a couple of their own."
As Tom watched in consternation, Bud exclaimed,
A STARTLING ASCENT
Bud wanted to know what still had to be installed before \N the following 
afternoon. Tom named several items and said that the most important was his 
father's dust collector.
"This invention is designed to catch specimens of mineral particles in space 
that are perhaps not known on earth," Tom explained. "Dad thinks they might be 
very useful to us."
"How are you going to hold onto this dust at the rate of speed we'll be 
traveling?" Bud asked.
Tom smiled and said that the dust would be collected on an electrified field 
between special copper plates arranged just inside a small opening in Ł the 
rocket's hull.
"Dad has made the plates so
117
"The rocket ship! It's launched itself!"
118 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
foolproof," said Tom proudly, "that the heat from the sun can't fuse the 
particles to the plates."
Next, Tom went off to inspect the various tanks of fuel before ordering that 
they be stowed in the four stages of the rocket.
High on the framework, a painter was busy putting on the name. The first 
word Star was finished. As Tom stood gazing at it, Hanson walked up and told 
him that several of the men wanted to give the two space pioneers a party that 
evening in honor of the great event.
"Better wait until we've accomplished our mission," the young inventor 
suggested with a smile.
As soon as Tom and Bud reached their room, they became serious. The 
enormity of the trip they were about to make took complete possession of their 
minds and little was said. By morning, however, the boys regained their high 
spirits and were eager to start.
"If it weren't for the Rocket Commission and the other visitors, we could leave 
right now," Tom said enthusiastically.
"I suppose we'll need a send-off," Bud replied.
With everything in readiness at nine o'clock, Tom asked Harlan Ames to 
station himself inside the rocket to prevent any possibility of a last-minute 
sabotage attempt.
"The Star Spear is sealed from this moment," Tom told him. "No one has any 
authority to come aboard but Bud and myself and anyone with us. The ship is
A STARTLING ASCENT 119
ready to go! Don't recognize any passes. None will apply from now on. 
Okay?"
"Right!" Ames replied. He stationed two men on the ground while he himself 
went to the pilot's canopy.
Tom looked at his watch as he stepped off the launcher catwalk. At the same 
time, an announcement came over the loud-speaker that the Rocket Commission 
representatives would arrive soon after ten o'clock. The Swifts and Newtons 
would follow shortly afterward.
"Let's go down to the airstrip and meet them," Tom proposed to Bud.
The boys jumped into a jeep and drove off. They had gone only three 
hundred yards when from behind them came a strange roar. Tom jammed on the 
brakes and both boys turned to look.
They stared dumfounded, then gasped in horror.
A gigantic cloud of hot, colored gases was billowing over the launching area. 
And roaring straight up was a streak against the sky.
"The rocket ship!" Bud exclaimed. "It's launched itself!"
"And Harlan Ames is aboard!" Tom cried fearfully.
CHAPTER 14
EMERGENCY ORDERS
WATCHING in consternation as the rocket ship raced skyward out of control, 
Tom was unaware for a moment of what had happened on the ground. Now, 
looking around, he saw men sprawled in various positions. A few started to rise 
but several, apparently injured, lay still.
"This is terrible!" Bud remarked, his voice barely audible.
Tom nodded as he turned the jeep and rushed back to the scene of the 
accidental launching. By now the base was in an uproar.
"Bud, take care of those poor fellows," Tom directed. "I'll see what I can do 
for Ames."
They jumped from the car, and Tom ran to the radar tracking platform where 
Jones, the operator, stood as if paralyzed with fright. The streaking rocket was 
already a small speck in the atmosphere. Tom whirled the gun-sight director at it 
and got an
120
EMERGENCY ORDERS 121
immediate firm fix on the spacebound runaway. Turning to Billing in the radio 
shack a few feet away, he shouted:
"Try to contact Harlan Ames. Don't stop trying for a second!"
"Check!" Billing replied.
"If Harlan only had a chance to flatten himself out during the take-off!" the 
young inventor murmured hopefully. "Otherwise, he'll be torn to pieces!"
Tom beckoned to the radarman, telling him to switch the tracker from manual 
to automatic. The giant radar dishes twitched as they aligned themselves to pick 
up the rocket.
"If Harlan survived the take-off, I'll send him directions on what to do," Tom 
said.
"What will they be?" Jones asked.
"As soon as we reach Harlan, I'll tell him to cut off the alcohol line to choke 
the motors of the first three stages, then to dump the liquid oxygen for them."
"Can he do that?" Jones asked.
"Yes, easily," Tom replied. "In that way he won't go up more than a few 
hundred miles. At least he won't get lost in space!"
A shout sounded in the radio shack. "Tom, Tom! We've reached Ames!" As 
the young inventor rushed into the shack, Billing added, "He's in bad shape."
Tom spoke into the transmitter. Giving Ames words of encouragement, he 
asked him to listen carefully for instructions on how to get back.
122 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"Can you hear me?"
"Yes," came a weak reply.
"Can you move your arms?"
"Yes, a little. Thank heavens your anti-G invention is working. But I think I'm 
going to black out."
"Hold on for a minute," Tom pleaded, "and you'll be okay."
He then told Ames what buttons to press to cut off the motors and jettison the 
first three stages.
"Watch your altitude," Tom concluded, "and when the last stage is gone, race 
the flight tape to the mark for that height on the return trip. It's in green. Roger."
Tom, as well as the others, stood tense and silent. There was a deathlike 
stillness everywhere in the launching area. Then the receiver crackled three faint 
words:
"Base stage gone!"
"Thank goodness." Tom breathed a little easier.
Again utter silence. Finally, the welcome announcement was heard that the 
second stage was dropping through the air with its parachute.
"Third stage released!" said the barely audible voice.
"If Harlan can only reset that flight tape-!" Tom prayed for success, acutely 
aware that a lag of a few seconds in synchronization would represent the 
difference between a safe landing and catastrophe. All eyes were riveted on the 
radarscopes. The pip remained constantly in view. Tom glanced at the tracker to 
watch the plotting graph as it recorded the
EMERGENCY ORDERS 123
return arc of the rocket. Ames was down to a twenty-mile altitude. A few 
seconds later the reading was only fifteen miles.
"I hope the braking jets have cut in," the young inventor murmured.
"Ames seems to be drifting inland," Jones cried, as the radar dishes swung 
around so that they were facing westward. "The rocket's not going to land here!"
Tom knew now that Harlan Ames' fate depended on the landing-weight 
distributor. This invention of Tom's kept the rocket upright if it had to land on a 
hillside. The tail contained four equidistant magnesium cylinders that extended 
past the motors to act as supports.
Suddenly the radar contact was gone. "We've lost Ames in the mountains. 
He must have gone down somewhere in the Adirondacks!" Tom exclaimed.
He took the bearing of the last radar beam and jotted the figures on a scrap 
of paper. At this moment Bud rushed back to find out what had happened to 
Ames and to report that none of the injured men was in serious condition.
"Harlan's down. We'll hunt for him. Get the Sky Queen ready, will you?" Tom 
asked Bud. "We'll need several men."
"Okay."
Tom ran to the communications office and got in touch with the head of the 
New York State Police. After Tom told the chief the advisability of keeping 
information about the rocket a secret, he agreed to
124 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
co-operate. His men would hunt for it, take care of Ames, and guard the 
fallen rocket ship from prying eyes until Tom could get there.
As the young scientist was about to leave, a plane and a high-powered 
speedboat arrived. The first contained the visitors from Shopton, while the boat 
discharged members of the Rocket Commission. All were thunderstruck to hear 
what had happened.
"Have you any idea what set off the rocket?" Mr. Swift asked his son, taking 
him aside.
"Ames might have started the flight tape accidentally," Tom replied. "But the 
odds certainly are against that."
"Could it have gone off by itself?" the older inventor suggested. "I thought the 
safety devices were foolproof."
"They were foolproof," Tom replied in a steady voice, "and errorproof too, but 
they weren't quite fiendprooil"
He took a step closer to his father and said quietly, "The rocket didn't take off 
because we made any mistake. I'm sure of that. This was a cold-blooded attempt 
on our lives. I can't be sure how it was done until we can examine the rocket, or 
talk to Ames-it may be we'll never know. But one of Rotzog's men may have 
contaminated the alcohol fuel. Or he may have short-circuited the ignition system 
by remote control, since it's operated electronically."
"That's no doubt the answer," Mr. Swift agreed. "And it's most unfortunate, 
but I'm confident that Rotzog won't defeat you."
EMERGENCY ORDERS 125
"Thanks, Dad. Now I'd better go find out what I can. Will you show the 
commissioners around? I'll see you all when I get back. The trip shouldn't take 
long. And by the way, I think we should keep this top secret if we can, don't you?"
"Yes. We'll stop all outgoing messages from here, and I'll keep everyone on 
the island until you return. They were expecting to stay until evening, anyway."
Bud had everything ready for the flight when Tom reached the airstrip. Dr. 
Carman was there, insisting that he wanted to administer to Ames himself.
The Sky Queen took off and was put to her greatest speed. A short time later 
she was cruising over the general area where Tom felt the rocket must have 
come down. By radio he contacted State Police headquarters and was advised 
where to look. A report had just come in from a forest ranger that something had 
hurtled to the ground some miles away from his shack. Bud and the crew 
combed every inch of woods with binoculars. Suddenly Bud cried out:
"I think I see the rocket standing straight up. Down on the shore of a pond. 
Yes. There's Star Spear painted on the side!"
Fervently hoping its lone occupant was still alive and not badly injured, Tom 
lowered the great plane to the water and set it down on a broad sandspit at the 
head of the lake. Everyone hurried out and scrambled up the shore to where the 
Star Spear stood. The rocket seemed to be intact.
Quickly Tom unbolted the flanges on the porthole and crawled through to the 
pilot's canopy. Dr.
126 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
Carman followed. Ames lay on the floor, but the sound of his deep regular 
breathing assured the others that he was alive. After a hasty examination, the 
doctor said that the man had suffered nothing more than a bad concussion. In 
fact, he would "sleep it off."
"When Ames awakens," Dr. Carman went on, "I doubt that he'll remember 
anything about the trip."
"You mean," Bud said, "that Harlan actually carried out Tom's instructions 
and didn't know what he was doing?"
"That's my opinion."
The security officer was lifted into the Sky Queen and put to bed. Tom heard 
a crewman say, "It's a miracle!" and Tom had to agree with this observation.
The young inventor directed the transference of the twenty-foot pilot stage 
into the plane's hangar. As the Flying Lab hovered overhead, cables were looped 
around the Star Spear and it was hoisted aboard.
As the Sky Queen started homeward, Tom sent a coded message to Fearing 
Island giving the latest news. A few minutes went by, then Bud remarked that the 
plane's course was not a direct one to the island. He questioned his friend about 
it.
"I'm flying to Shopton," Tom replied with a mysterious smile. "Then Tom Swift 
Jr. is going to do a little disappearing act."
CHAPTER 15
AN ATTEMPTED THEFT
BUD STARED at Tom. "Well, magician, why are you disappearing and where 
to?"
For answer, Tom said he believed that it might be a good idea if the Rotzog 
gang thought he had gone up in the rocket and would not return.
"I do too," Bud agreed. "But you're still going to build another rocket and 
make the trip, aren't you?"
"Of course. But if our enemies think I've disappeared, they may leave us 
alone."
"It sure gripes me," said Bud, "to think that now we can't win the rocket race 
among nations. I suppose we'll only be also-rans."
"Not if I can help it," Tom replied. "The Swift Enterprises and Fearing Island 
are going to work night and day to complete this project."
"I'm all for it, old-timer," Bud said enthusiastically. "What's my part in this 
operation?"
"To ferry the sections from the plant."
127
128 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
Tom confided that he felt some deception would be necessary to mislead 
Rotzog. "I have a stratagem in mind," he added, "but I'll need the Navy's 
cooperation to make it work."
By this time, the Sky Queen was over Shopton. A few minutes later Tom set 
the plane down on the airfield of the Swift Enterprises plant. He was greeted by a 
large group of men who had come to ask for full news of the rocket flight.
"So you've heard about it?" Tom remarked.
"All we know," replied an engineer named Walling, "is that several 
newspapers have been calling here every half-hour to know what's been heard 
from you. All calls to the island received the answer 'We're not giving out any 
information.' "
"Good," said Tom. "Next time they phone, tell them it was another test."
"But they think you were in the rocket, Tom," Walling said.
"Let them think so," the young inventor answered. "Give out no information."
He called a meeting of the entire Enterprises engineering personnel, and 
after telling the full story, pledged them to secrecy. Tom then told of his plan to 
speed up the assembling of another rocket.
Tom ordered the payload rocket taken from the Sky Queen and asked 
Walling and several other engineers to help him examine the rocket to see if it 
could be used again. Two hours later the group decided that no damage had 
been done to the Star Spear and that all it required was overhauling.
AN ATTEMPTED THEFT 129
"When do you think everything will be ready to ship to Fearing?" Tom asked 
Walling.
"By tomorrow night."
Grinning in anticipation, Tom telephoned the naval station located nearby. 
Just as he had completed arrangements for assistance, Bud strode into the 
office.
"Time out for lunch," he announced, bringing in txvo boxes he had carried 
over from the cafeteria.
As they ate, Tom said, "If we work fast, we can get all four stages of the 
rocket to the island tomorrow night while it's still dark."
"Isn't that pretty risky?" Bud asked. "There's a good chance the Rotzog gang 
will detect that you're running a shuttle to the island."
"I'm not going to fly the sections all the way out," Tom explained.
He revealed the main outline of his plan. The United States Navy had lent 
him several giant bares. These amphibious freight trucks were pooled in an 
isolated field in Fernwood, a tiny village near the coast, across from Fearing 
Island.
"I'll try to confuse Rotzog by using both the Sky Queen and the bares," Tom 
said.
"Sounds like a good idea," Bud mused. "Hope it works."
An hour later the Flying Lab and its passengers took off. By the time they 
arrived at Fearing Island, Harlan Ames was awake and declaring that he felt fine. 
But as Dr. Carman had prophesied, he recalled nothing of his flight subsequent 
to the initial take-off.
130 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
Ames had been knocked violently to the floor, hitting his head and numbing 
his arms.
"I didn't start the tape recorder," he answered in reply to a question from 
Tom. "The rocket just went off all of a sudden as if by magic."
Tom told his suspicions about Rotzog, and Ames whistled.
"He certainly means to destroy you, Tom. But he picked on the wrong guy!"
Arriving at the island, the boys found their guests and the Rocket 
Commission still there. After dinner, when the commissioners were ready to 
leave for the mainland, the others strolled to the docks with them. As each man 
climbed aboard he shook hands with Tom and his father.
The last one, a slender, hatless figure in an old trench coat, was Dr. Herbst, 
a physics professor from Deland University. He had just started for the boat when 
the water-front radar alarm system went off. Instantly Tom gripped the surprised 
professor's arms.
"Mr. Swift, what does this mean?" he exclaimed in a heavy, foreign accent.
Tom's father, equally amazed, could only answer, "I suppose the electronic 
eye reveals that you have in your possession a metallic object that you were not 
carrying when you arrived!"
The professor tried to break Tom's grip on his arm. He lunged forward, 
protesting that he was being dealt with in a most humiliating manner.
"Is this the way you treat guests from the Rocket Commission?" he asked 
haughtily.
AN ATTEMPTED THEFT 131
Bud jumped forward and the two boys tightened their hold. They pressed the 
man into an upright posture.
"I'll report this incident to the newspapers!" he cried. "I've never seen such 
rudeness. Why, I'll-"
"Just a minute, Professor," Tom retorted. "Maybe the eye made a mistake. 
We'll forget the alarm. Instead, suppose you just submit to a routine examination. 
It's possible you've forgotten that you picked up something by mistake."
The physicist stiffened again. His face whitened with rage as he sensed the 
ruse. Nevertheless he said:
"Very well, then. As long as this is just routine."
The boys released their hold and took a step back from Dr. Herbst. Instantly 
the man flashed his right hand under his jacket lapel, pulled out a small shiny 
object, and flung it far out into the bay!
"You won't find out what it was!" the professor cried vindictively.
Tom glanced at the other members of the Rocket Commission. They were 
speechless with astonishment.
Bud Barclay, who had watched intently as the object hit the water, instantly 
shed his coat and kicked off his moccasins. Then he dived from the dock. An 
underwater crawl stroke carried him in a matter of seconds directly to the place 
where the object had disappeared.
On the dock, the professor was protesting his innocence. Tom and his father 
had taken hold of him again and he was fuming just as he had been a moment 
before.
132 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"What was that object you threw out there?" Mr. Swift demanded.
"It was my own!" Herbst argued. "My personal property! I was afraid you'd 
confiscate my invention. It's a secret one I didn't want revealed!"
For a moment the man wore a look of triumph. But his expression changed 
suddenly as Bud appeared on the surface with his right hand thrust up out of the 
water. He was clenching something in his hand.
Bud swam to the dock, then climbed the ladder and handed the object to 
Tom.
"It's your new high-powered transistor," Bud said.
"What!" Mr. Swift cried. "Why, this is the most important part of your 
computer!"
Tom clutched the transistor and turned to Herbst. "Well, Professor, what 
have you got to say?" he demanded.
Completely shaken by the unexpected turn of events and the stares of his 
colleagues in the boat, Herbst suddenly collapsed. When he recovered from the 
shock, he submitted to questioning without protest.
He told the Swifts that a countryman of his had looked him up shortly after 
his appointment to the Rocket Commission. Innocently, at first, Herbst had 
revealed to him information about the rocket projects he had visited. His 
countryman had then persuaded him that it was his patriotic duty to gather as 
much secret data as he could get from Fearing Island, and, if possible, key parts.
AN ATTEMPTED THEFT 133
"Patriotism hardly requires you to stoop so low as to steal from a fellow 
scientist," Mr. Swift said icily. "What is the name of your fellow countryman who is 
responsible for this outrage?"
"I'm in fear of my life to tell," replied the man nervously. "I still have relatives 
in my own country and I was warned to keep silent-or else harm might come to 
them."
"We have no choice but to turn you over to the FBI. But it will go a lot easier 
with you if you confess."
The dejected man sat motionless for a few moments, staring at the floor of 
the boat. Then he looked up and said:
"The man who is responsible for this is called Rotzog."
"How long have you known him?" Tom asked.
"I don't know him at all," Herbst replied. "I was approached by a Mr. Hein. He 
seems to be some sort of henchman."
"We know about him," said Tom quietly. "Did he ever mention where the 
outfit's rocket-launching area is?"
"Then you know about the Rotzog group?" the professor asked in 
amazement.
"Yes."
"I know very little about the Rotzog rocket and I have no idea where it is. 
Please believe me," Herbst pleaded.
Tom and his father looked at each other and nodded. On the last point they 
agreed that the pro-
134 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
fessor was telling the truth. He was taken away to await the arrival of an 
agent from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
The rest of the Rocket Commission, almost too astounded to comment about 
their traitorous associate, rode off in the speedboat. Soon afterward, the other 
visitors left and the islanders settled down to a peaceful evening.
An hour later, however, the calmness was broken by news brought by an FBI 
agent. A large New York evening paper had carried a scoop saying one of their 
reporters had been tipped off that Tom Swift Jr. had been lost in a rocket 
launched prematurely.
"Good night!" the young inventor exclaimed. "Who gave out such a story?"
Harlan Ames said he would check its source. In a call to the city editor the 
security agent learned that a reporter in New York had picked up the tip from a 
foreigner near International Airport.
"If we want to find out more about the story," Ames said, "this reporter, Al 
Landry, will meet us at International in New York."
"I'm on my wayl" Bud cried.
CHAPTER 16
OPERATION SHUTTLE
FLYING a speedy jet, Bud took off with Harlan Ames for New York. Upon 
arriving at International Airport, the security man pointed out the hatless reporter 
who was waiting for them. Landry turned out to be a jovial young ex-football 
player who covered the airport news for his paper.
He introduced his companion as Hjalmar Koos and explained, "Mr. Koos is a 
language expert, who may be able to help us. He speaks fifteen languages. The 
man I talked to about Swift's rocket ship ought to speak one of 'em! If not, we'll 
get Koos' brother who knows the other fifteen!" he joked.
Koos smiled as Landry went on to explain, "This mustached fellow I 
mentioned has been coming to a quiet restaurant near here at ten o'clock each 
night. He always meets one or two men and they speak in a language I don't 
understand. But off and on, when they speak English, I've picked up stories from 
them
135
136 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
about other foreigners they seem to know. Since you're so much interested 
in these fellows, I thought Koos might eavesdrop on what they say among 
themselves in their own tongue."
"Say, it's almost ten o'clock now," Bud broke in excitedly. "Let's head for that 
restaurant."
By the time the three reached the place, they had settled on a plan of action. 
Koos was to remain outside until after the stranger entered and had been pointed 
out. Bud, Ames, and Landry obtained a booth, with Landry keeping out of sight.
A few minutes later a mustached man appeared at the door, and as Bud 
glanced questioningly at the reporter, he nodded slightly.
"That's the one!" Landry whispered.
The man walked to another booth and in a moment a waiter brought him 
coffee and buns. Presently another man, tall and heavy-set, entered the 
restaurant. At a nod from Landry, Koos followed close behind and seated himself 
at a table only a few feet from the foreigners' booth. As before, the waiter brought 
buns and coffee to the second stranger. Koos ordered the same.
Bud suggested to Ames that they follow the men when they left. But Landry 
tried to dissuade him.
"You'd better wait and hear what Koos has to say before you get into 
trouble."
Bud agreed that it was sound advice, but planned to be ready to leave at a 
moment's notice. He ordered a sandwich and milk.
It was only a matter of minutes before the suspect
OPERATION SHUTTLE 137
pair rose and left. Koos immediately headed for Bud's table.
"I understood them all right," he began in a low voice. "The one who came in 
first was very happy because the Swifts had not denied the story he had given 
Landry. He feels sure Tom really was in the lost rocket!
"The big fellow," Koos went on, "told the other that Rotzog thinks he can 
smash any American effort to launch a rocket, now that Tom Swift Jr. is gone!"
"What!" Bud cried, sliding out of the booth so fast he knocked over his empty 
milk glass.
With Ames at his heels, Bud rushed outside to question the Rotzog men 
further. But they were not in sight. Bud concluded that the two had ridden off in a 
car which was traveling down the street at a fast clip. Realizing that he and Ames 
could not overtake it in traffic, Bud returned to the restaurant with his friend.
Landry was sorry that he had kept them from contacting the suspects but 
promised to find out all he possibly could the next evening. He would let Bud 
know what he learned.
Before leaving the restaurant, Bud asked the owner if he were acquainted 
with the foreigners, but the man shook his head. One bit of information he did tell 
about them was discouraging. The men had mentioned to him that they would 
not be back- they were leaving New York permanently. Bud was disheartened, 
and as he and Ames flew back to Fearing Island, he said:
138 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"I hope Tom has better luck tomorrow night than we've had tonight."
Reaching the island, Bud related what had happened. Tom, instead of being 
downcast about the two suspects not being caught, said:
"Anyway, I'm still among the missing." He grinned. "And I'll stay there until 
you and I return from our rocket race."
Early the next evening Tom flew with Bud to Shopton where the four stages 
of the new rocket were ready for transporting. Tom and his father were to ride 
with Bud in the Sky Queen to carry the payload stage to Fernwood and stay with 
it. Then Bud, Arvid Hanson, and the crew would shuttle the plane and move the 
other three sections there one by one.
After the cabin end of the Star Spear had been loaded into the hangar of the 
Flying Lab, the gigantic plane headed for the little seashore village of Fernwood. 
Twenty minutes later it hovered in midair, several miles from the small hamlet, 
where there was a fleet of outsized amphibious bares parked along a lonely road. 
These were sixty-ton amphibious cargo carriers, almost wide enough to touch 
both curbs of a normal street. Their wheels stood ten feet high.
Bud set the Sky Queen down to a point about five feet above one of the 
tremendous wheeled boats. The rocket section was lowered into the bare with a 
single motion and covered with a tarpaulin.
Tom and Mr. Swift, hats pulled down, climbed
OPERATION SHUTTLE 139
onto the operator's seat next to the driver. The monster marine truck rolled 
toward the bay.
The bare continued along the road for a mile out to the ocean beach. Mr. 
Swift saw, to his surprise, that several Navy enlisted men and officers were 
grouped on the shore. Some of them climbed onto the vehicle before its square 
prow pushed into the bay. The craft carried its load with ease, picking up speed 
as it moved away from land.
The men introduced themselves and one of the officers said to Mr. Swift, 
"Pretty neat strategy your boy's pulling off here."
Mr. Swift smiled. "Yes, it is!"
About half a mile dead ahead was a brightly lighted Navy auxiliary ship lying 
at anchor. Great clusters of cargo lights hung about the booms, casting 
reflections out across the waves.
"What's going on here, Tom?" Mr. Swift whispered, as the Navy men left the 
bare to climb aboard the big ship.
"The ship is just a ruse," Tom replied. "We're not delivering anything to her. 
This is an old Navy trick. Empty bares have been running out to the ship since 
eleven o'clock last night."
The lights on the ship were suddenly dimmed. The bare slid past it in the 
darkness and headed for Fearing Island. On the shore of the island metal tracks 
had been put down to keep the carrier from becoming mired. When the bare 
reached land, the giant tires rolled onto the tracks and the heavily weighted craft 
lumbered ashore.
140 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
The main section of the Star Spear was safe!
"Here comes the next section!" Tom cried presently. "Bud's really got 
everyone on the Queen hustling."
As they started toward the beach to meet the bare, Tom and his father were 
startled by a scream, then a cry from the cove.
"Help! Help!"
CHAPTER 17
AN IMPORTANT CAPTURE
"THAT SOUNDS like Chow!" Tom said as the call for help was repeated.
He and his father climbed aboard a jeep that had been left parked nearby 
and raced in the direction of the cove. They sped past the boys' cottage and 
down to the dunes.
Mr. Swift and Tom jumped out and ran to the water's edge. In the glow from 
the car's headlights they could see vaguely a battle going on between two figures 
inside Chow's weir. One was a man, the other a strange-looking creature. First 
one was knocked under water, then the other.
"That's Chow!" Tom cried suddenly. "But what's the other thing?"
The Swifts stood by, ready to assist if necessary. In a few seconds, however, 
they smiled as the Texan came off the victor, dragging his opponent onto the 
beach.
141
142 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"Man alive, what have you got there?" Tom asked.
Chow's prisoner was a man but presented a very
strange appearance. He was covered from shoulders
'That's Chow!" Tom cried suddenly
AN IMPORTANT CAPTURE 143
to feet in a tight-fitting, one-piece suit of rubberized fabric and wore a glass 
faceplate, connected by a length of one-inch tubing to two metal cylinders that 
were strapped to his back.
"I sure don't know what I picked up," Chow said, shaking his head.
"This," Tom explained to him, "is a frogman costume of extremely advanced 
design. If we look in the water out there, I believe we'll find a propeller-driven 
underwater craft that this fellow used to get here."
"You don't suppose he's got a bomb with him, do
you, Tom?" Chow asked excitedly. "I remember readin' about rigs like this 
bein' used to blow up ships."
"He may have," Tom answered, "although I doubt it. But I'll bet that when we 
search him, we'll find something a good deal more interesting."
144 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
By this time the intruder had removed his helmet. Tom said to the stocky 
dark-haired frogman:
"What's your name? And what are you doing here?"
"My name's Will Ward, and you can see for yourself what I was doing. I came 
out from the mainland farther than I thought. I was getting pretty tired, so I 
decided to land and rest for a while. There's nothing wrong with that, is there? 
Now if you're finished, I'll leave."
"I'm afraid you can't leave until we've had a better look at you, and you've 
answered a few more questions," interjected Mr. Swift. "This is a restricted area 
and you have been trespassing. You'd better come along with us."
Will Ward stood defiantly where he was for a few seconds. Then, realizing 
that escape was impossible under the circumstances, he fell in with his captors 
and marched up to the security office. They were met by Harlan Ames, whose 
eyes widened at the sight of the interloper. As Ames took the man in tow to 
supply him with other clothes, Tom's father quietly asked his son:
"What do you make of this, Tom?"
"I think that man is Marvin Hein!" Tom announced. "He fits the description to 
a T that Asa Pike gave us up in Hankton. I think he's here to sabotage our rocket, 
and he chose the one way to get here that would avoid detection by both our 
radar and sonar defenses. It was just pure luck for us that he happened to swim 
into Chow's fishing weir."
AN IMPORTANT CAPTURE 145
"You mean I really caught a big fish, after all?" Chow exclaimed jubilantly. 
"Well, you sure got to thank my new lectric eels what you sent for, Tom. I was 
cartin" 'em down to the water, when what do I see in my flashlight but that critter 
flounderin' around in my trap. I figgered he sure didn't have no business there."
The Swifts smiled, then Mr. Swift became serious. "It's my opinion our visitor 
may have entered the country illegally," he said. "We'll suggest to the police that 
he be held on suspicion."
Within a few minutes Ames returned with a small flat metal case to which 
were attached four coils of thin insulated wire.
"Look what I found on Ward," he said, and handed the box to Tom.
The two inventors examined it. "Just as I thought," Tom said excitedly. "This 
is a relay circuit with a built-in timing device to ignite the Star Spear prematurely, 
after it had been fueled. This is probably how the rocket was set off when Ames 
was aboard. Once connected in place, it would be a cinch to hide this thing."
"The box itself," Mr. Swift remarked, "has a tiny distorter on it so our radar 
couldn't pick up the device. After the frogman was safe on land, he'd remove the 
distorter." Grimly he laid a hand on his son's shoulder. "Tom, I believe your life 
and Bud's have been spared. This stranger intended to put this device in your 
new rocket ship."
Tom turned to Chow. "I have you to thank for
146 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
thwarting our enemies' latest plot against us," he said.
The cook beamed, then became angry. "Let me get my hands on that 
sneakin' frog of a man!" He started out the door.
"That won't be necessary," Tom said, grabbing Chow's arm. "The authorities 
will take care of him."
Tom, accompanied by his father, Ames, and Chow, went to the room where 
the visitor was being detained. After the Swifts had revealed to him how much 
they knew, the man finally confessed that he was Marvin Hein. He had been on 
Fearing Island once before and installed the relay circuit in Tom's first rocket 
ship.
"But this is all I will admit," Hein continued. "I am pledged not to betray my 
leader!"
"Do you mean your country-as well as your leader?" Tom asked.
"I mean only my leader-Rotzog!" Hein replied. "He is the world's greatest 
scientist. He will build the first space platform and rule the world. Nobody can 
stop him!"
"Except Tom Swift Jr.!" exclaimed Chow, who was gloating over his part in 
the affair. "Tom's goin' to be the first fellow to get up among them planets an' win 
that there world-wide rocket race. An' nobody's goin' to stop him!"
Hein lapsed into stony silence and was removed to the mainland to be held 
on suspicion.
"But where Rotzog and his rocket are hidden still remains a secret," Tom told 
his father.
AN IMPORTANT CAPTURE 147
"Don't be discouraged," Mr. Swift advised. "I'd say all the breaks so far have 
been on your side. They've failed to hold anyone from your group and you've 
captured five of their men!"
Tom grinned. "Rotzog's next!"
The young inventor went off to meet Bud who was just coming in with the 
final rocket section. As Bud climbed down, Tom slapped him on the back.
"A swell job, fellow."
His husky friend grinned. "That was a neat operation you dreamed up, 
shuttle boy, but I sure feel like a worn-out ferryboat."
As the boys walked to their quarters, Tom told about Hein's capture.
Bud whistled. "So Rotzog has stopped sending small boys to do a man's 
errand. Now he sends his top men, eh?"
Tom was serious. "He might have wrecked this place," he remarked. "I've 
ordered a day-and-night patrol of the beaches in addition to our alarm system."
At eight o'clock the next morning the boys went directly to the launching 
area, where engineers had already started to assemble the replacement rocket. 
As soon as Tom was satisfied that the work was progressing satisfactorily he 
sought out his father.
"Dad, shall we rig up your dust collector now?"
This was the device which would gather bits of cosmic mineral matter. Mr. 
Swift believed that it would be of great value to scientists. The elder inventor 
shook his head.
148 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"The dust collector doesn't open automatically. I'm trying a new type of 
shutter on it. I'll contact you when the apparatus is ready to be installed in the 
Star Spear."
"Okay, Dad."
Tom went to his own laboratory where he replaced the cathode-ray tube in 
the oscillograph with another one which he knew to be more sensitive. As Bud 
walked in with Chow, he winked at Tom and said:
"At ten G's you and I will each weigh a ton."
The cook looked at the boys suspiciously, then said, "Say, Tom, what are 
these lil ole G's you all talk about? They sure got me bothered. It ain't natural. 
Sounds like gangster talk or the FBI."
Tom laughed at the way the puzzled cook wrinkled his forehead. "Sorry, 
Chow, you're wrong on both counts. The term G is a unit of measure, like a 
pound of something or a dollar."
"Of which I have too much of the first an' not enough of the other-at least till 
payday!" Chow sighed.
"The G factor measures the basic attraction the earth has for a unit mass at 
the earth's surface," Tom continued. Then, smiling at Chow, he went on, "Now in 
your case, Chow, you have more mass than Bud or I, so the earth loves you 
more than it does us, and hangs on to you tighter."
Chow snorted and said, "It kin hang onto me just as tight as it wants-the 
tighter the better!"
Tom and Bud laughed, and Tom resumed his explanation.
AN IMPORTANT CAPTURE 149
"Someday, Chow, bring a bathroom scale down to the plant and put it in the 
elevator. Weigh yourself, then press the button for the top floor.
"The faster the elevator starts, the more you weigh. Now, if the scale reading 
was twice as much as it was when you were standing still that would be a force 
of two G's. When the Star Spear takes off, Bud and I may weigh ten times as 
much as we do right now-that would be a force of ten G's."
"I catch your meanin'," Chow admitted. "An" I know I sure better stay here. I 
weigh too much already!" He laughed jovially. "Well, since I ain't fixin' to test how 
many G's a lil ole outer-space flapjack kin handle, there's no use o' this old 
cowpoke goin' with you."
After the chef had left the laboratory, Bud said, "What's next on the 
schedule?"
"Checking our space suits and fortifying the island still further."
Bud looked up in amazement. "Fearing's an electronic arsenal now. Even a 
vulture would fly for his life from this place!"
"But Rotzog is one bird who won't," Tom pointed out. "I'm installing a second 
group of robot jets to circle about those drones that are up there now."
"Sounds like action and I'm all for it!" Bud said enthusiastically. "Come on!"
CHAPTER 18
ZERO-HOUR INTERRUPTION!
THREE ROBOT JETS were loaded into the hangar of the Sky Queen and 
the great door was closed. Bud, at the controls, lifted the plane to ten thousand 
feet as Tom had directed.
"Check!" Bud telephoned to his waiting friend.
Tom clicked the button that opened the door, then sparked the first drone by 
remote control. It shot out into the atmosphere. The young inventor smiled as the 
perfectly calibrated automaton instantly began its circling pattern.
As it swept under him on its return flight, Tom released the second drone, 
and a few seconds later the third. They followed the others in faultless rhythm.
"Okay," Tom reported. When the door was shut, he said, "We'll go back for 
the other three jets."
"Roger."
After the second set of robots had taken their
150
ZERO-HOUR INTERRUPTION! 1ST
places in the two-mile-high protection area, Tom joined Bud in the pilots' 
cabin.
"Operation Down-to-Earth," Bud said, "is becoming more hazardous all the 
time. I'd hate to hit one of these robots and have it blow up in my face!"
As Tom watched his friend skillfully take down the Sky Queen, he remarked, 
"Rotzog is clever. I hope he can't find a way to break our barrier before we 
launch the rocket. I'll feel much safer when I'm four hundred miles up."
"What's your real opinion of that guy's aims?" Bud asked. "Do you believe 
what his men said about him?"
"I'm convinced," Tom answered, "that Rotzog is a modern kind of Alexander 
or Napoleon, or even a Hitler. But instead of trying to conquer the earth, he's 
hoping to become master of all space. I think he has a nearly completed space 
station that he's going to launch in sections, then go up to assemble them."
"But he can't do it unless he has the right fuel," Bud remarked. "If Johnson 
didn't get enough information about the kicker when he was snooping in your lab, 
to pass it along to Rotzog, maybe he isn't ready."
"I have an idea we'll soon know," Tom replied. "When we launch the Star 
Spear, Rotzog will come after us. Better keep this top secret, Bud, or there may 
be objections to our leaving."
"My lips are sealed, Tom." Bud grinned. "I'm just itching for a good old game 
of tag in space. And
152 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
by the way," he added, "the sooner we get launched, the less likelihood 
there'll be of one of our legitimate rivals beating us in the race. Any more news of 
the rival rocket that was supposed to take off pretty soon?"
"I'll check when we land."
It took over an hour to acquire the information. When it came, Tom was 
alarmed. One of the rockets in the international race was to be launched in the 
center of Australia at nine a.m. the day after tomorrow."
"That's six p.m. tomorrow here!" Bud exclaimed.
"Right! Bud, we're going to leave tomorrow afternoon!"
Ames, who was standing nearby, stared in astonishment. "Can you be ready 
by that time?"
In reply, Tom broadcast the word over the loudspeaker system, asking for an 
immediate report on the status of the Star Spear. One by one the answers 
trickled in.
"Entire electric system checked."
"Motors in perfect time."
"Fuel ready to be piped in."
So it went, with only minor details to be attended to. Fearing Island hummed 
during the balance of the day, with every worker confident that Tom Swift's rocket 
would win the race.
The young inventor telephoned to his mother asking that she and Sandy 
come for the launching.
ZERO-HOUR INTERRUPTION! 153
Next, he called the Newton home, then got in touch with the head of the 
Rocket Commission. Each group promised to arrive during the morning.
These details attended to, Tom and Bud now tried on the space suits which 
would be carried in case of emergency. They had been constructed from a tightly 
woven wire fabric of extremely high bursting strength. The suits were covered on 
each side with an impermeable layer of a new synthetic rubber, jointed together 
to permit movement, and were absolutely airtight.
Encased in these effective but clumsy garments, the boys would be able to 
survive exposure to the space void for a period of several hours, should a chance 
collision with one of the hundred thousand meteorites which fall to the earth daily 
damage the Star Spear.
"Let's hope we don't have to put the suits on," Tom said to Bud. "I want to win 
that race in the Star Spear!"
"Right! See you later." Bud went off to place the space suits in lockers 
reserved for them.
Tom's next move was to install another vital safety feature in the Star Spear-
a spare kicker. The present one might become poisoned by a trace of impure 
oxygen. But to make the replacement, Tom decided he would have to substitute 
improved couplings which would permit him to insert the new kicker in a matter of 
seconds. While doing this, it would be necessary to by-pass the kicker and use 
the
T54 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
main fuel line. This operation would consume huge quantities of the precious 
fuel and could not be kept up long.
"Repairs will have to be done with split-second timing," the young inventor 
said to himself.
Hours later he was satisfied with his work. Accompanied by several 
engineers, he went up to the payload stage where they installed the new 
couplings and fastened down the emergency kicker.
It had already grown dark when the job was finished. As the men descended 
to the ground, Tom saw Chow waiting for him. Good old Chow! He was going to 
see that the boys did not forget to eat!
The Texan served what Bud termed a lollapa-looza of a meal and Tom 
declared that he would not have to eat again before going around the world!
When the boys returned to the launching area, trucks were already arriving 
from the storage tanks with their loads of fuel. Tom and Bud watched the 
procedure. Presently Tom glanced up and saw the noselights of the circling 
drones. He thought he detected another sound from high above them. As he 
listened, another fuel truck moved toward the launching area. Tom was joined by 
Hank Sterling at the base of the rocket.
"I thought-" Tom began, but he never finished the sentence.
A bright flash had appeared suddenly in the dark sky, near the upper defense 
circle. Then there was another brilliant burst of light, just above the first.
A second later two jarring explosions rocked the
ZERO-HOUR INTERRUPTION! 155
island. The sirens started wailing. The floodlights flared on.
But even their intense glare failed to blot a blinding flash overhead as one of 
the low-level drones exploded. It blew to pieces directly over the airstrip, 
showering the rocket area with fragments.
Fires broke out in a dozen places at once!
CHAPTER 19
SEALED INSTRUMENTS
"ALL FIRE EQUIPMENT OUT!" Tom yelled over the tracking platform's loud-
speaker. "And turn off the floodlights!"
The watchman on duty in the power shack dashed to the control board and 
threw the master switch. As the island plunged into darkness, patches of fire 
burned brightly in a dozen or more places on and within the buildings.
The biggest blaze was roaring along the truck road where the loaded 
vehicles had been abandoned because of the explosions. Tom noticed the 
peculiar lasting way in which the flames burned on the ground and knew instantly 
what it meant.
"Bud!" he exclaimed. "This stuff is jellied gasoline! Napalm bombs have been 
dropped on us!"
A fire engine ground to a stop near the rocket. Its crew leaped into action, 
shooting chemicals upon the lively flames that threatened the Star Spear.
156
SEALED INSTRUMENTS 157
Tom grabbed two portable extinguishers from the fire truck and handed them 
to Hank Sterling and Bud.
"Follow me!" he yelled, removing one more from the apparatus and starting 
to run toward the truck road. The others raced along behind him.
"We've got to keep the flames away from the tank trucks!" Tom cried. "If the 
loaded ones blow up, we're done for!"
In the flickering light of the flames that seemed almost to touch the vehicles, 
the three could see a pumping engine working frantically in the area ignited by 
the exploding tanks. The truck drivers, who had fled to temporary safety, now 
returned to assist in quenching the flames.
Tom, Bud, and Hank ran toward three giant trucks which were dangerously 
exposed to the terrific heat of the spreading fire.
"You take the first one!" Tom yelled to Hank. "Bud and I will take the others!"
A hundred yards beyond, both sides of a second vehicle were threatened by 
flames. Bud leaped into the cab, and with Tom hanging on, drove the truck 
forward another hundred yards, ending the immediate danger.
Tom jumped off and ran to the last truck that had just left the storage tanks 
when the explosion occurred. Only seconds remained in which to save it, 
because a blob of napalm had fallen on the hood from which the fire threatened 
to engulf the cab.
The guard at the storage tanks had stuck to his
The crew leaped into action, shooting chemicals
SEALED INSTRUMENTS
159
post and a heavy spray was sweeping over the entire section, dousing the 
fuel containers with fire-fighting chemical. But should the truck explode, flying 
pieces of metal from it could pierce a tank like shrapnel and release the highly 
inflammable contents.
Reaching the truck, Tom decided on a bold move. He would back the flaming 
truck into the storage area within range of the extinguishers there. Shielding his 
eyes with his arm, Tom leaped into the cab, and with a prayer, pressed the 
starter button, slammed the truck into reverse, and roared backward down the 
road for thirty yards to where the extinguisher nozzles were emitting foaming 
chemicals.
Soon the flames that had come so close to devastating the island were 
entirely under control. The
upon the flames that threatened the Star Spear
160 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
rocket remained intact and the supply of the special fuels, to be used for the 
flight into space, was saved.
Dr. Carman was kept busy for an hour attending to minor burns and treating 
the stinging eyes of several men. At last all those not on duty for the night retired 
to their quarters.
In the meantime Tom, Bud, and Hank had rushed back to the rocket ship to 
see if its sensitive instruments had suffered any damage. A thorough checkup 
assured them that everything was in perfect working order. The attack had failed!
"It's mighty lucky you launched the upper defense drones!" Tom's father 
remarked as they finished their inspection.
"How many of them did we lose?" Tom asked the control-tower operator.
"Three of the top level and one of the regulars," the operator replied. "But I 
hate to think what would have happened if they hadn't stopped most of the 
bombs from dropping straight through!"
A few moments later the all-clear signal sounded and again the trucks took 
up their work. By four a.m. the fueling operation had been completed without 
further interruption and the weary boys turned in for a few hours' rest.
"You know, Tom, the peace and quiet of outer space is going to come as a 
welcome relief after the goings on around here," Bud said to his pal as they 
stretched out in their beds. "Rotzog has tried about everything on us but germ 
warfare. Do you suppose we'd better start boiling our drinking water tomorrow?"
SEALED INSTRUMENTS 161
"I wouldn't put that past him, either," Tom replied with a grim smile. "He'd 
resort to such tactics. But," he added resolutely, "I don't intend to give our 
enemies enough time to strike again."
"Glad to hear that!" Bud gave a tremendous yawn and a minute later both 
boys were sound asleep.
As dawn broke, the blinker on Fearing Island's short-wave system suddenly 
flashed on the black panel in the communications office. When no one answered, 
a buzzer sounded. George Billing leaped from his bunk in the next room to switch 
on the set.
The caller was Radnor, the security assistant, who, upon being released from 
the hospital, had gone to Washington to confer with the FBI and other authorities 
on the progress of the hunt for Rotzog and his rocket base.
"At last! At last!" came his excited but faraway voice. "I'm up in the Aleutians 
in a search plane. We've got news of Rotzog's hide-out!"
"Go on!" Billing urged.
Radnor's voice was not coming through clearly. It would fade, strengthen, 
and fade again. Billing strained his ears to put the message together.
"We're on our way to check on a report a fisherman brought in a few minutes 
ago," the agent continued. "The man tells us that he saw a giant rocket on a 
lonely island five days ago. It's taken him all this time to get the news to us by 
boat. Almost a thousand miles of open sea."
"What's the location?" Billing asked.
"We have the fisherman here in the plane," Radnor replied. "We should 
arrive at the spot within
162 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
an hour and a half. We'll call you. But get word to Tom that he mustn't delay. 
Rotzog will be a worse menace than ever if he should get away from us. He may 
even pick up our plane on his radar and zoom off. Our skipper figures we'll flush 
him out, because if he doesn't belong on the island he'll leave in a rush. So tell 
Tom to hurry! Over!"
Billing was tempted to reveal Tom's plans for taking off but kept silent. He 
switched off the set and buzzed Tom's telephone. Already awake, Tom 
answered.
"What is it?" he asked. After being told the news, he exclaimed, "I must take 
off immediately!"
Bud already was on his feet. "We'd better get everyone up!" he cried, and 
Tom nodded.
He gave the orders and dressed quickly. Within an hour the entire base was 
in action. Trucks carrying last-minute emergency items were unloading at the 
catwalk. Water and rations were being put aboard.
Mr. Swift hurried to Tom's side on the launching platform. "Mother and Sandy 
ought to be here any minute," he said anxiously.
"I certainly wouldn't want to leave without saying good-by to them," Tom said. 
"The Rocket Commissioners promised to be here at nine, and we can't take off 
before then, anyway."
Looking up suddenly at two incoming planes, he said, smiling, "They're both 
arriving ahead of schedule."
When the planes landed, the groups were amazed
SEALED INSTRUMENTS 163
to hear that the time for the launching had been moved up. Mrs. Swift was 
very quiet and Tom knew she was fighting tears. He put his arm around her.
"Don't worry, Momsy," he said, using his childhood name for her. "I'll be back 
before you get used to my being away."
"Be careful, son, and good luck," she managed to answer. Then, with a faint 
smile, she added, "We'll meet you in San Francisco. You know I don't like speed, 
but the Sky Queen is going to make the West Coast in less than two hours so we 
can be there when you come down."
Chow, who had been standing by, lifted his eyebrows. "Well, brand my 
geography lessons, I thought you were figurin' on goin' clean 'round the world, 
Tom-not landin' a couple o' thousand air miles or more from here."
"I'll circle the globe, all right," Tom said. "But don't forget that while I'm 
traveling, the earth will be turning at the rate of over a thousand miles an hour."
"You mean," the cook asked, "that in a little while San Francisco will be 
here?"
"That's about it. So actually Bud and I will start and stop at this point."
Chow consulted his watch and grinned. "We been expressin' along for 
several miles while we been standin' still an' talkin'?"
"Sure thing, Chow."
Tom now told his family and the three Newtons that he had arranged for the 
rocket to be christened
164 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
and had chosen his mother to perform the honors.
"Since it wouldn't be safe for you to get close to the Star Spear at the time of 
launching and break the traditional bottle on it," he said, "I've arranged something 
else. There's a certain button on the tracking platform for you to push. By remote 
control it will uncover the name and the symbol on the Star Spear."
Everyone expressed surprise about the symbol which had been added 
during the night and hidden by a magnetic disk.
"I've read," Tom went on, "that originally the bottles broken against the prows 
of ships about to be launched contained waters from the seven seas. My symbol 
represents the seven large stars of the Pleiades, where I hope to fly some day."
Tom did not reveal any more, and though his listeners were curious, they 
refrained from asking questions.
"I'll be very happy to christen your rocket ship, Tom," his mother said. "What 
do you want me to do?"
Tom led Mrs. Swift to the platform and showed her the special button she 
was to touch after the announcer called, "Minus one!" "And I believe," he added, 
"that minus one will be at ten o'clock."
Hearing his name called at this moment, Tom left her and went to speak to 
the three members of the Rocket Commission. They had come to seal their 
recording instruments in the nose section. Without these official proofs, Tom's 
flight would not be rec-
SEALED INSTRUMENTS 165
ognized by the international judges. The head representative, a tall, dignified 
man, aware that time was short, swung onto the conveyor and zoomed up to the 
nose section. Hurriedly Mr. Hopkins checked the tiny wires which had been 
threaded through the recording instruments, and then sealed the ends together 
through a soft metal slug by means of special pliers. It would now be impossible 
to open the instruments without detection.
Returning to the ground, Mr. Hopkins said to Tom, "The instruments are set. 
On behalf of the Rocket Commission I wish you a successful flight!"
As he turned away, Tom looked at Bud.
"Ready?"
"Check."
The two boys shook hands with all the men and in return received pats on 
the back and wishes of Godspeed. Hank Sterling said, "Win that prize!" Arvid 
Hanson whispered, "Watch out for Rotzog. He's not in the race, but he may still 
try to ruin you!"
Chow added, "Give my regards to them Martians an' find out what they eat 
up there!"
"I'll guard this island with my life while you're gone, Tom," Ames promised.
Tom and Bud now kissed Mrs. Newton, Phyl, Sandy, and Mrs. Swift good-by. 
They all wished the adventurers well, but as Tom's mother walked to the tracking 
platform he could see that she was trembling.
Tom bade his father farewell last of all. There was a long, firm handclasp as 
silent messages were con-
166 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
veyed from the eyes of each. Finally Mr. Swift said:
"I'm proud that you are carrying on my work so admirably."
Tom and Bud entered the rocket and rode the conveyor belt to the pilot's 
canopy. When the conveyor was removed, the openings through the center of 
each stage were sealed off one by one from the control cabin.
Tom now radioed to the radar tracking level. "Sweep a 360-degree circle with 
the dishes. We're going up in less than a minute if all is clear. Pay attention to the 
high level. If there's any danger it will strike above five hundred miles."
"Okay!" Jones called back.
The battery of gleaming radar screens began moving in silent, fantastic 
patterns. For fifteen seconds they swept the skies in every direction.
"Sky's clear!" came the report.
"Has the launching area been evacuated?" Tom asked.
"All clear below!"
"Here goes!" said Tom.
He set the flight tape in action, then quickly the boys flattened themselves on 
the slanting take-off racks and buckled the safety straps.
The tape set off the time clock and the loudspeakers in the cabin, and on the 
launching platform a voice boomed out:
"X minus ten!"
"Sure your straps are tight?" Tom asked Bud tensely.
SEALED INSTRUMENTS 167
Across the cabin his friend gave a tug and nodded.
"Won't be long now," Bud said. "Good luck, pal!"
"-coming X minus five-minus four-minus three-
The boys held their breaths. Tom kept his eyes glued on the tape.
"Minus one!"
Down below, the forefinger of Mrs. Swift's right hand pushed a small button. 
At once the name and the symbol on the rocket were revealed. Between the two 
words a bright red spear was piercing a seven-pointed white star. Alongside the 
lowest triangle on the right were the initials U.S.A. lighted up in red, white, and 
blue.
The watchers saw all this in a split second. Then there was a gigantic puff of 
billowing gases and the Star Spear began to lift.
A few seconds later Tom Swift's rocket ship was on its journey into space!
CHAPTER 20
GHOST WINDS
THE ROCKET SHIP shivered as the blast hurtled it off the ground. Tom and 
Bud felt their bodies flatten against the racks as the enormous acceleration 
forces caught them in a viselike grip.
"What power!" Bud murmured, as he slid his rack over to a porthole window 
and glanced down at the receding ground.
Out across the Atlantic the clouds, in reality drifting at eight thousand feet, 
appeared to hover just above the waves like a mist. The horizon was already 
sloping off, giving the earth a mound shape.
"Check time!" Billing radioed.
"Sixteen seconds and we've i cached the ionosphere!"
Suddenly the rocket was jarred by a violent movement. The abrupt motion 
nearly wrenched the boys from their racks.
168
GHOST WINDS 169
"Hey!" Bud cried. "We must have collided with something!"
"Whatever it is, hang on!" Tom exclaimed, as the rocket ship gave a sharp 
twist.
The boys had just managed to grip the sides of their acceleration couches 
when the rocket, already traveling straight up at 4500 miles an hour, gave an 
even more violent lurch.
"Tom!" gasped Bud. "What's happened to us?"
As the huge rocket shuddered under this latest impact, Tom and Bud clung 
tenaciously to their racks.
"We-we must be-caught in one of-those jet streams!" Tom managed to say 
between the violent motions.
"You mean-what they call 'ghost winds'?" Bud asked breathlessly.
Tom nodded. "I only hope we can ride 'er out- no telling how long it'll last."
Tom knew that these windstorms in the ionosphere travel as fast as a 
thousand miles an hour. Unlike the ones that occur nearer the earth, the aerial 
tides flow for a certain time in one direction and then without warning reverse 
themselves.
This reversal was exactly what Tom wished might happen. The shift in 
current would free the rocket from the raging flow of air and permit the ship to 
continue on its original course. Before he had a chance to express this hope 
aloud, the Star Spear suddenly stopped its erratic behavior, and then swooped 
upward under enormous acceleration.
170 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"She's straightened out!" Bud cried. "The tracking signals are coming through 
again from the island."
After Tom explained to Jones what had taken place, he said to Bud, "We 
were lucky the ghost wind changed direction so soon, but dodging them is a 
problem we'll have to solve before we start carrying passengers. We may have to 
set up a meteorological station here."
"The dummy rocket didn't register any such interference," Bud observed.
"These storms race wild through the lower ionosphere," Tom replied. "The 
dummy was just fortunate not to hit one."
"Do you think you can figure out a way to protect spaceships against them?" 
Bud asked.
"I believe it can be overcome by placing steering jets at different spots in the 
hull," Tom replied. "They'll go on automatically the moment the ghost wind hits 
the rocket ship."
"Wish we had a couple of those jets on here right now," Bud said. "Anyhow, 
we won't have to worry about the wind from now on. The air from here up will be 
so thin that the rocket won't even feel the storm when it hits."
Tom suddenly thought of the flight tape-it had probably been thrown out of 
line by the rocket's recent tumble in the ionosphere. A glance at the device 
confirmed his belief and Tom quickly made the adjustment, setting the tape in its 
proper position.
GHOST WINDS 171
"Just in time," he murmured as a red light flashed and a buzzer sounded a 
warning that the first stage was about to detach itself.
"Check time!" came Jones' voice.
"Eighty-five seconds!" Tom responded. "First booster charge nearly ready to 
break off!"
The release clearance gun timer on the panel showed three-two-one!
The Star Spear quivered the moment the signal light went out, and 
explosions at the coupling points sent vibrations through the rocket ship.
"There it goes!" Tom cried. "Off clean as a knife cut!"
"And feel that release of pressure!" Bud whistled. "That neutralator really 
melts away the G's."
The massive sixty-motored base section dropped down and veered into its 
own separate line of flight, parachuting slowly back to earth. Radar control would 
keep the stage out of the paths of planes and ships before it plummeted into the 
ocean.
"Right on schedule," Tom announced. "We're seventy miles up."
"We're going faster every second," breathed Bud. "Time for a stretch."
Now that the booster had cut away, and they were pretty well out of the 
atmosphere and traveling at a constant acceleration, the boys knew it was safe 
to get up. Bud was first in releasing the catches of his take-off safety rack and 
sitting up. The hinged couch folded automatically and Bud climbed into his flight 
seat.
172 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
Tom followed him but continued to watch the various gauges and 
oscilloscopes as well as the flight tape. Sitting down next to Bud, he said:
"The next stage will drop off in sixty-three seconds." A moment later he 
commented, "Listen to those radio signals from the tracking platform! Jones has 
a perfect plot on us."
"Sure is a welcome sound," Bud added. "I don't feel so far from home. And 
speaking of home, how about taking a look?" When Tom nodded assent, Bud 
leaned over and began to remove the shutter from the starboard viewing port.
As the rocket rushed farther and farther from the earth, Tom reported to the 
field that the temperature and oxygen changes were being made perfectly.
"And the kicker in the second stage is working just as we planned," he 
concluded.
"You sure picked the right name for your invention!" Bud spoke up. "With that 
kicker hooked in, we've got about a million mu/epower!"
Tom smiled and glanced out of the porthole. The world was rapidly taking on 
its true spherical shape. Both land and ocean had a neutral gray-brown color, 
and the sky was no longer blue, but black.
"We're seventy-seven miles up," Tom announced into the radio, "and our 
speed is 5200 miles per hour."
There was no further communication from Fearing Island, and the boys 
wondered if the message had reached the instrument on the tracking platform.
GHOST WINDS 173
A few minutes later the buzzer and warning light for the dropping of the next 
section interrupted the boys' discussion. The seconds ticked away and stage 
number two was successfully jettisoned. Number three cut in without a hitch.
The third stage would burn for fifty-nine seconds and cut out at an altitude of 
two hundred and seventy-eight miles. From this point the momentum of the Star 
Spear would carry them up with diminishing speed to the 1075-mile altitude 
stipulated by the contest.
At this altitude, in free flight, the race would begin! The rocket ship would 
circle the earth in exactly two hours.
The two boys looked at each other and grinned. Bud remarked, "No 
complaints on this trip. What say we skip the race and go right on to Mars?"
"Speaking of Mars," Tom said, "I'd better turn on the oscillograph. Our space 
friends might want to communicate with us."
"If it takes as long as usual to figure out their mathematical symbols," Bud 
said, "we'll be back home before you've deciphered the first sentence."
"That's where you're wrong, Bud."
From a compartment on the panel board Tom took out a notebook and 
opened it. On several pages were symbols with words beneath them. He 
explained that his father had been working night and day to compile this planet 
dictionary, as he called it. Mr. Swift had handed the booklet to his son just before 
the youth had entered the Star Spear.
174 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"I had no idea it was so complete," Tom said, flipping the pages. "When Dad 
gets his teeth in a job, he sure doesn't let go until he's finished it."
Again the buzzer and warning light!
"Third stage is ready to go, Bud," Tom cried excitedly. "In a little while now 
we'll be in free flight!"
"And on our way to win a one-hundred-thousand-dollar prize," Bud added 
gleefully. "Tom, tell them we're going to take it up to Mars and convert it into 
Martian currency!"
The boys waited for the light to go out and the booster to drop off. Seconds 
went by. The light flickered off and on. Suddenly the blood drained from Tom's 
face as he noted that the flight tape was acting strangely. It was stopping and 
starting jerkily.
Without warning there came a series of terrific vibrations. It seemed as if the 
boys' stomachs would be torn out of their bodies. Their face muscles pulled down 
across their teeth. Their shoulders pained as though they had been struck by two 
down-swinging bats. A hot shudder raced through their bodies.
"The section must have jammed!" Tom cried, glancing at Bud.
But his friend had slumped forward, unconscious.
"Bud must have been caught off balance and clipped on the head," the 
young inventor thought. He knew that traveling at such high acceleration one's 
body and limbs feel heavy as lead, and muscle co-ordination is poor.
GHOST WINDS 175
Tom reached for the automatic coupling clearance gun. Nothing happened!
"I've got to release that third stage before the motors quit firing!" he muttered 
frantically.
The young inventor knew that when the motors gave out he would no longer 
be able to steer, and the Star Spear would begin to tumble aimlessly, end over 
end. The nose section, if it could be launched at all, would be improperly aimed.
The motors were still firing-a tribute to the efficient performance of the kicker 
in conserving fuel. But he had to release the defective coupling before it was too 
late.
Gritting his teeth, Tom slid to the rear of the cabin, jumped into an overall 
heat-resistant work suit, and picked up a tool kit. After opening the hatch to the 
motor room, he descended to the heavy door of the stage below. Using an 
electronic lever, he waited impatiently while the door was opening.
The noise of the firing motors was deafening as he climbed along the 
magnesium girders to investigate the trouble. Each time the tail end swerved, 
Tom had to hang on for his life. He waited for the rocket to level momentarily, 
then crawled as fast as he could along the slender ribs of the section, hoping 
against hope that the fuel supply would not give out.
Finally, he reached the balky section containing the clearance guns. After the 
rocket had upended once more, Tom worked furiously to rip away the housing on 
the connection box. Then, resetting the
176 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
controls so that the whole jettisoning operation could be worked manually, he 
put his hand into the box, and with one deft movement, spliced the necessary 
wires to close the connection.
He had to get back to the pilot's canopy before something else might go 
wrong. In this present position he could easily be spun off into space!
CHAPTER 21
AN UNEXPECTED MISHAP
AS THE Star Spear rushed upward, Tom heard of the motors cough. The 
fuel supply in the third stage was coming to an end!
Doggedly he made his way back to the nose section. Suddenly the rocket 
began to swing sideways as a result of the uneven thrust of the motors. For a 
moment Tom hung suspended on the struts with his long legs dangling.
As the tail section reached the end of its swing and paused, before starting 
back the other way, the inventor climbed madly for a few seconds. Then he held 
fast while the section began another oscillation. This pattern of movement had to 
be repeated several times before Tom finally reached the opening at the center 
and pulled himself upward.
"I can thank my lucky stars for this!" he murmured, reaching the motor room 
of the payload stage.
177
178 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
Quickly he swung the lever to close the great hatch to the now almost 
useless section. Making sure it was absolutely tight, he hurried back to the pilot's 
canopy.
His friend was still slumped over, but Tom noted with relief that Bud seemed 
to be breathing regularly. Any attempt to revive him had to be deferred until the 
third stage was dropped.
A moment later the gyro showed the correct angle of flight. Tom pushed the 
manual control button for the release of the section and held his breath. Would it 
drop off?
Seconds later, the couplers were wrenched apart and the dead stage was 
jettisoned! The rocket ship shook crazily as it was freed from the dragging thirty-
foot unit and the motors of the passenger stage cut in.
"Bud!" Tom cried, slapping his friend on the back. "Wake up!"
But Bud remained slumped over. A fearful thought took hold of Tom. 
Traveling at such fantastic velocity-nearly ten times as fast as sound- the effects 
of even relatively small bumps seemed enormously magnified and crushing to a 
flesh-and-blood body. Suppose Bud had been paralyzed by the sudden jolt he 
had received when the tail-assembly release mechanism had jammed!
Opening a compartment, Tom took out a vial of spirits of ammonia and held it 
near the unconscious boy's nose for a few seconds. His friend suddenly winced 
and his lips twitched.
AN UNEXPECTED MISHAP 179
When Bud's arm moved, Tom was sure that he would soon revive. Tom 
quickly returned to the pilot's seat to concentrate on the delicate job of guiding 
the Star Spear into orbital flight on the schedule set for it.
Against the loosening grip of the earth they had risen to a point almost one 
thousand miles high.
The motors in the nose section should now be swinging them out in a great 
arc toward the North Pole. A quick glance at the flight indicator was somewhat 
disturbing to Tom. They had been accelerating only slowly thus far, and 
according to his offhand recollection of their flight plan, they should have been a 
great deal farther northward than they found themselves.
Quieting his fears momentarily he turned his attention to Bud, who had just 
opened his eyes and was weakly trying to sit up.
"Where are we?" he asked groggily. "Are Sandy and Phyl okay?"
Tom smiled, relieved that his friend was going to be all right. "We're seven 
hundred miles away from our friends," he said, and told him about the knockout 
and the defective coupling. "Say," he cried suddenly, "here comes something on 
the oscilloscope!"
Bud, still half-conscious, was not interested. But Tom's eyes were focused on 
a mathematical symbol which was forming on the screen.
"A message from our space friends!" he exclaimed. Noting that the figure 
was different from
180 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
the first one on the previous messages, he added, "I wonder if they're inviting 
us to meet them."
"Stop kidding," Bud murmured.
"There's a second figure!" Tom cried.
As he reached for the planet dictionary, Tom suddenly realized that it was 
extremely warm in the cabin. At first he thought that this was the natural result of 
their jets attaining such unprecedented speed. But by split seconds the pilot's 
canopy grew hotter and hotter.
"It's over 100 degrees in here!" Bud said. "Anything wrong?"
Tom looked at the cabin thermometer. It had climbed to 122 degrees and 
was still rising!
Pointing to a gauge, Tom cried, "The kicker isn't working! No wonder we 
haven't been accelerating properly."
"It's reading 850 now!" Bud exclaimed in alarm, knowing the gauge was 
expected to drop from a reading of 050 to 035 an instant after the fuel invention 
was put into operation. The fuel was streaming through the by-pass unchecked! 
It would be used up in two minutes, leaving none for the Star Spear's. return to 
earth!
Tom unstrapped himself and dived aft, telling Bud to get their space suits 
ready in case they should need them. Yanking open the rear wall panel, Tom 
saw, to his dismay, that the kicker and its feed lines were a mass of twisted, 
melted pipes. In spite of the fuel loss involved, Tom was grateful that the 
automatic valve had opened and diverted the fuel around the burned-out kicker. 
Otherwise, the fuel lines
AN UNEXPECTED MISHAP 181
would have been plugged up, and an explosion would have resulted.
Tom pulled on a pair of asbestos gloves. With every moment a race against 
possible death, he tore out the damaged pipes with one hand and reached over 
with the other for the spare kicker which was clamped to the wall. Sweating and 
panting in the stifling heat, he inserted the new piping in a matter of seconds and 
lessened the opening through which the solar energy was being admitted. Then 
he called:
"Bud, what's happening on the gauge now?"
"It's going down-040-038-035. It's normal!"
Heaving a sigh of relief, Tom came back and once more strapped himself 
into the seat. He explained that evidently the excessive amount of solar radiation 
being admitted to the kicker had caused the overheating.
By this time the cabin had become cooler; the thermometer read 90 degrees. 
Tom smiled in relief.
He checked the kicker gauge. It was still at the new figure and the 
speedometer told him that the rocket had accelerated even with the diminished 
fuel supply. Everything was working all right at the moment.
"If we can keep this up for just thirteen more seconds, we can stop worrying 
about the kicker," he said. "We'll be in free flight."
"We're doing 4300 miles an hour right now!" Bud cried. "And going faster 
every second. "What's our altitude?"
"Ten hundred miles," Tom replied, scarcely able to believe the reading.
182 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
The copilot whistled. "Wow! That was a speedy climb! Now for the race!"
At 1075 miles, Tom looked at Bud, then both stared at the orbital flight 
indicator. They were about to try the most daring thing man had yet attempted-to 
hurtle through space without the aid of human-made power.
When the indicator reached the null point, Tom threw over the ignition switch.
The kicker ceased to function. The motors died! There was an unreal silence!
CHAPTER 22
MESSAGES FROM SPACE
AFTER THE FIRST few seconds of orbital travel at 15,810 miles an hour, 
Bud remarked:
"Smoothest flight I ever had, Tom. And the easiest. Even this feeling of 
lightness in my hands and arms is rather pleasant, especially after that dropped-
down feeling we had coming up. Say, this space-platform stuff wouldn't be so 
bad. I could almost live in an aerial houseboat and like it!"
"Sure you could, if it had a football field and a-"
Tom stopped speaking because new mathematical figures had started 
forming on the oscilloscope. The first signals had stopped when the overheating 
of the kicker had sent Tom scurrying to put in the new one. Now, the impulses 
were coming in fast and clear.
Once more, Tom grabbed the planet dictionary and began looking for the 
translation. His brow puckered. Finally he said:
183
184 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"Bud, I believe this is a message from Dad. He can't contact us by radio, so 
he's trying this method."
"What does the message say?" Bud asked eagerly.
Tom admitted that he was puzzled. Evidently there were not enough symbols 
for Mr. Swift to send the message exactly. But after a few seconds of thought, 
Tom added grimly:
"I think the message is a warning that Rotzog took off and is determined to 
get us!"
"Good night!" Bud cried. "Do you think we can see him in time to avoid him at 
this speed, even with our radar?"
Tom groaned. "Rotzog's the most daring enemy I've ever had and probably 
the smartest. I only hope he hasn't perfected a radar signal good enough that he 
can pick us up!"
Bud had an inspiration. "You brought that super celestial telescope, didn't 
you? Let me look through it."
Tom took the telescope from a locker, handed it to his friend, and turned to 
use the transmitter to let his father know he had received the message. Just then 
a new set of dot-and-dash symbols began coming in. Tom studied the 
oscilloscope intently. Presently he reported to Bud, great excitement in his voice:
"Our race rival has launched his rocket in Australia ahead of time! Only a few 
minutes after we started!"
"Wow! The sky's getting jammed with rocketeers!" Bud commented. "Well, at 
least he's not planning to destroy us."
MESSAGES FROM SPACE 185
"No, but he is planning to win the race," Tom reminded his companion.
But Bud was confident of the Star Spear's, ability. "You have the race sewed 
up," he said with a grin.
"Here comes another message," Tom said.
As Bud scanned the sky with the telescope, Tom noted that the first two 
figures on the oscilloscope were the same as those in the original message that 
he and his father had received from their space friends. Now he was sure that 
this new set of mathematical symbols was from them instead of from the earth.
"Maybe they want to meet us out here," Bud suggested.
"No," said Tom, translating quickly. "They say we're running into trouble."
"Rotzog?"
"I don't think so."
The boys watched eagerly but no more figures appeared on the face of the 
oscilloscope. After a few seconds of waiting and watching, Tom looked up at the 
orbital flight indicator. Unnoticed, the indicator pointer had crept down from the 
zero position.
"Bud, look!" Tom said excitedly. "We're being swung off our course, out into 
space!"
A moment later their senses began to confirm the evidence of the sensitive 
instrument. They could feel the Star Spear pulling upward and to the right.
Startled by this unforeseen action, Tom weighed the possibility of using the 
rocket controls and returning the Star Spear to her course by a short burst of 
power from the rocket motors. Deciding on this
186 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
course, he threw the ignition switch and instantly the motors roared to life.
After a few seconds his face became grave. "Bud, we've climbed another fifty 
miles off course!" he cried. "And I can't seem to fight the force that's sending us 
out of our orbit!"
He opened the throttle wider and the Star Spear reared. For a moment it 
seemed as if Tom had broken the hold of the mysterious force. But in another 
instant the ship yielded to the overpowering attraction and was gliding along its 
new and unknown line of flight.
"This must be the danger that message was trying to warn us against!" Bud 
exclaimed. "Could we be caught in the pull of another planet?"
"I doubt it," Tom replied. "We haven't traveled far enough from the earth to be 
influenced by another body."
"Then what can it be?" Bud asked. "Some trick of Rotzog's?"
"Perhaps."
Tom watched the panel for any meter indications that might give him a clue. 
He thought of the very great pull that "dead" stars can exert, but he knew that 
these bodies lay even farther out in space than the planets he had already 
considered.
His thinking was interrupted by the oscilloscope. Figures were appearing 
again.
"This may be the answer!" he said hopefully.
"Calling Swift!" the inventor translated.
It was a warning from the space beings that the
MESSAGES FROM SPACE 187
Star Spear was passing close to a meteor field. It had a magnetic attraction 
which was pulling the ship off its course and drawing it toward the whirling mass 
of destructive meteorites!
"We must get out of the field!" Bud exclaimed. "Can't we buck it?"
"Maybe we can," Tom replied, "but it'll use precious fuel."
"We must take the chance," Bud urged.
It seemed to Tom that their predicament resembled one of a helpless 
swimmer caught in a strong current. For the swimmer, the wisest course is not to 
buck the current, but to swim at a right angle to it until he has escaped its power.
The young inventor was jerked from his thoughts when another set of 
symbols appeared. "Race out of danger, at a right angle to your present course," 
they said. "Then we will send you directions to return to your orbital flight."
Elated at this confirmation of his own reasoning, Tom decided to obey. He 
turned the kicker to top capacity for five seconds, swinging sharp right, then cut 
off the motors.
Fervently hoping this had done the trick, he waited. The rocket seemed to 
stand still for a moment, then the magnetic pull began again, but this time it was 
not so strong.
"We're almost out of it!" Bud cried gleefully.
"One more maneuver. But we're farther from the earth," Tom said, worried, 
as he repeated the operation and found himself fifteen hundred miles high.
188 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
As promised by their benefactors, however, further instructions began to 
appear. Bud copied the symbols as Tom translated. He had just completed the 
preliminary directions, however, when the dots and dashes used to formulate the 
mathematical figures collapsed into a straight line and started to fade.
The boys watched intently, but the symbols no longer took shape. Then they 
died out completely.
Tom looked woefully at the figures he had copied. Without the rest of the 
instructions they were worthless.
"This is the finish," Bud said, his optimism gone.
Tom would not give up. He turned to the special transmitter he had brought 
and turned several small knobs.
"What are you going to do?" Bud asked.
"Try to reach those space people and get the rest of the directions," Tom 
replied. "If I ever needed to reach them, it's right now!"
Using the planet dictionary, he quickly copied a set of figures to read, "We 
need the instructions again."
He started transmitting. To attract their attention, he first sent the two initial 
figures that the mysterious friends had used in their messages to him. Then he 
added his own request. There was no reply.
"I'll try again," he told Bud. "If we don't raise them, we'll have to plot our own 
course."
Tom kept sending the symbols without a break for nearly a minute, but there 
was no response.
"Bud, give the motors another five-second burst
MESSAGES FROM SPACE 189
with the kicker on full. Let's get farther away from that magnetic field!"
The copilot complied and Tom continued to send. The maneuver completed, 
Bud asked:
"Any luck at all?"
"None," Tom replied, and transmitted the formula three more times but 
without success.
Then, suddenly, a nicker appeared on the oscilloscope!
Tom stopped sending and watched the scope. Another flicker followed the 
first. Dots and dashes appeared. A symbol formed. Then came figure after figure. 
The first three were the same as those Tom had translated before. Now a long 
string of figures was appearing.
"We have our answer!" Tom cried. "This is the escape route!"
CHAPTER 23
OMINOUS SIGNS
CLUTCHING HIS PAD, Bud copied the symbols quickly but carefully. Tom 
riffled through the pages as fast as he could, trying to keep up with the message 
while making a running oral translation.
The strange symbols stopped. With the course heading set, Tom burst into 
action.
"Give the kicker all she's got, Bud!" he called.
Bud pulled the kicker lever through its full arc.
Tom waited five ticks of the panel clock. "Now cut in the steering engines," 
he ordered.
Bud complied. Then Tom, following the space beings' complex navigational 
instructions, began to steer the Star Spear in a path around the edge of the 
powerful, invisible magnetic field.
According to the directions, in less than a minute the Star Spear was 
supposed to have escaped from the magnetic pull of the meteor field. Tom 
flipped
190
OMINOUS SIGNS 191
off the switches of the steering motors and Bud pushed back the lever to cut 
off the kicker.
"Now we'll see," Tom said quietly.
Hardly daring to breathe, the anxious boys waited. For the next few moments 
there was a strange absence of any sensation in the rocket- practically no feeling 
of motion. Yet, according to the speedometer, they were still racing through outer 
space at well over eleven thousand miles per hour. It was not toward the 
meteors, however, but away from them.
"You did it, you old stargazer!" Bud exulted. "Whew! I don't want another 
scare like that one. I can tell you now that I sure was worried those signals were 
coming from Rotzog and would send us to our doom!"
Tom smiled. "I was myself for a while. But one of those figures set me 
straight. It's not a mathematical symbol which has ever been used on earth, so I 
figured Rotzog wouldn't know it."
"You mean the chicken's beak holding the worm? How is that translated?"
"I don't know. I had to skip it, Bud. Thank goodness it made no great 
difference." Glancing at the altimeter and the speedometer, he remarked, "In 
about eight minutes we should fall back into our orbital track."
Seven and a half minutes later the orbital flight indicator told Tom that the 
nose of the rocket was beginning to pull slightly to the right. The pull grew 
stronger and Tom once more briefly gunned
192 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
the rocket ship motors to bring them back up to the 15,810-mile velocity 
necessary to keep the Star Spear in an orbital course.
Tom and Bud shook hands. They had escaped a slow death and words were 
futile to express their feelings.
Tom set up the cameras. As soon as the machines started working, Bud 
said, "These are going to be the miracle movies of our time. Especially the films 
we're taking on the revolving cameras. Those stars are going to show up 
wonderfully against that blackness of outer space. Say, where are we heading 
now, Tom?"
"We're on a diagonal course toward the Arctic Ocean," Tom replied.
"Pretty close to the abandoned Rotzog base," Bud remarked.
Fifteen minutes later the boys looked out and saw a marvelous spectacle. 
The morning sun gleaming down on the north-polar cap transformed the ice 
mass into a brilliant giant jewel of blinding beauty.
"What a place the poles would be to keep an operation secret from men in 
space!" Tom said. "With white equipment a project could never be observed!"
"Say," Bud spoke up, "where do you suppose Rotzog is? And our rival who 
took off from Aus^ tralia?"
"I hope they're a thousand miles behind us and stay there!" Tom answered.
OMINOUS SIGNS 193
"If either of them show up, we'll have to depend on outmaneuvering them," 
Bud observed.
By this time the Star Spear was hurtling above the wastes of northern 
Siberia. Ahead, the glowing globe was darkening. By now the natives in the 
palm-thatched huts on the Philippines, Borneo, and Sumatra lay sleeping. Soon 
the boys were racing across the islands.
"What's our position now?" Bud asked, as he saw Tom turn on the space 
navigational instrument.
"We're 105 degrees east of Greenwich and 60 degrees south latitude," Tom 
replied, taking the reading. "Almost at the South Pole!"
The rocket soon passed over the Antarctic region and was heading for the 
lower shank of South America when morning began to break on this side of the 
earth.
Looking at the radarscope, Tom said, "Still no sign of Rotzog or our 
Australian rival!"
Tom continued to scan every direction with the radar screens. There was no 
trace of any rockets, meteors, or other interference.
"This is almost too easy," Bud complained, stretching his cramped muscles.
He had no sooner spoken than a pip on the radar indicated an object dead 
ahead, slightly above the course of their rocket.
"Rotzog!" Bud cried.
The image began to sweep at crazy angles, up, down, and across.
194 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
"It is no ordinary rocket!" Tom cried.
Instantly the idea flashed through his mind that this strangely maneuvering 
sky traveler must be the one belonging to the message senders.
"It's our space friends!"
"I hope so," Bud said. "I'd hate to be dropping in on an arsenal!"
On the scope the image of the dodging rocket grew larger as the Star Spear 
closed the distance between them.
"Tom!" Bud cried suddenly. "I just saw a couple of pips on the other radar 
tracker. It must be our Australian rival. For Pete's sake, don't hit one of those 
guys!"
Tom looked at the second scope and studied it for a couple of seconds. The 
image appeared again, faintly. He altered their course slightly to avoid a crash. 
Then he turned to the periscopic lens for a view of the area ahead.
"We'll be close enough to the mystery rocket to see it in a few seconds."
Suddenly the boys could see the outline of the mystery ship!
Tom signaled in the hope of attracting the attention of the other craft, but 
there was no response. Suddenly Bud called out:
"The image is still on the scope, but it's growing smaller."
"It's getting away!" Tom cried.
"But that's impossible," Bud retorted. "We're traveling at almost sixteen 
thousand miles an hour!"
OMINOUS SIGNS 195
"Now I'm sure that rocket contained our space friends!" Tom exclaimed. "I 
can understand that they might outfly us, but why would they turn tail and run?"
"Only one reason," Bud replied. "Rotzog must be around!"
CHAPTER 24
AN ATTACK
THE OUTLINE of the friendly spaceship disappeared completely from the 
radarscope, making the sixteen-thousand-miles-per-hour speed of Tom's rocket 
seem like a snail's pace by comparison.
"Say," said Bud, as a new idea struck him, "you don't suppose they thought 
this is Rotzog's ship? They're not equipped to defend themselves against an 
armed attack."
"It's possible," Tom replied. "Keep watching the scope, Bud," he directed. "If 
Rotzog is around, I want to know it."
Tom made a few calculations, then announced that they were about four 
minutes behind schedule, due to the delay in getting around the magnetic field.
"Well, can't we go faster and make up the time?" Bud inquired.
"We can go faster all right by turning on the
196
AN ATTACK 197
motors for a few seconds," Tom assured him. "But that won't solve our 
problem. If we go any faster, the earth can't hang on to us and we'll float up out 
of our orbit. Then we'll have that much farther to
go-"
Bud nodded comprehendingly and asked, "Well, what can we do?"
"The only thing I can figure out," Tom answered, "is to set the steering 
motors to fire in such a way that they will compensate for our increased 
centrifugal force and hold us down. I've just calculated what the settings ought to 
be. We'd better strap ourselves down. Everything that isn't fastened is literally 
going to hit the ceiling."
As soon as the boys were secured on their racks, Tom opened the kicker 
wide. The Star Spear accelerated and sustained the burst for ten seconds. 
Sliding his rack forward, Tom closed the arc and looked at the speed gauge.
Twenty-four thousand miles an hour!
When the pressure let up, Bud and Tom took their regular positions. 
Watching the screens intently as they swept the skies, the boys noted faint blips 
appearing on the radarscope.
"We sure made up the distance!" Bud gloated. "Man, that rival of ours won't 
have a chance against us now! We'll be back home collecting the prize before he 
gets out of orbital flight! That is," he added, "if Rotzog doesn't show up."
"He'll have to show up soon if he's still planning to," Tom said, "This race will 
be over for us in twenty-five minutes!"
198 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
Tom took a quick reading on his position finder. Far below, the sun was 
glinting on the Amazon River and to the west on snow-capped mountains.
"It's in the bag!" Bud chortled. "Tom, you can-"
His sentence was cut short by a tremendous flash of light through the 
porthole, followed by a faint, ominous vibration of the Star Spear.
"Tom, look at that scope!" Bud cried. "The screen's alive with pips!"
"They're guided missiles!" Tom groaned. "Rot-zog has found us!"
"For Pete's sake, let's get out of his path!" Bud urged.
Tom knew that the only way to do this was to change his course. And to 
change his course at this point in the race was the last thing he wanted to do.
As Rotzog's ship closed in on the Star Spear,
AN ATTACK
199
With victory so close, the inventor hated the thought of consuming valuable 
seconds trying to evade Rot-zog. At best, their lead over the Australians was 
tenuous; the difference between victory and second place might be a matter of 
seconds.
"But I can't be blasted out of the sky, either," Tom told himself.
He decided to use a maneuver that would not consume much time and might 
throw his enemy off. Quickly he reached over to the controls and shut off the 
steering rockets. The ship was still traveling at a faster than orbital speed, and 
the Star Spear instantly responded by rising sharply to let a barrage of missiles 
pass harmlessly below. Seconds later, Tom cut in the steering motors to push 
the ship earthward.
Alternately firing and stalling the rockets, Tom was able to make the Star 
Spear describe an erratic, undulating path that made it impossible for Rotzog
Tom opened the kicker wide
200 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
to fire on him accurately. The missiles launched at them were unable to 
follow the roller-coaster course Tom set for them and either missed by wide 
margins or blew up harmlessly ahead or astern.
Bud's face was lined with worry. "Tom, these maneuvers will use up all our 
fuel. There'll be none left to take us back to earth!"
"I think that's exactly Rotzog's idea," Tom replied grimly. "If he can worry us 
enough, the fiend can count on stranding us out in space."
"Here he comes in person!" Bud announced.
Tom looked at his fuel gauges. He could not do much more dodging.
The enemy rocket, roaring from the right rear, was now in position to make a 
direct pass at Tom's ship. The Star Spear stood completely exposed to a 
broadside attack! If he tried to swing away, Rotzog would be right on his tail. Tom 
knew he must gamble on using another tremendous amount of fuel to avert this 
attack.
As Rotzog's ship closed in at point-blank range, Tom opened the kicker wide, 
dived, and rolled under the oncoming enemy ship!
CHAPTER 25
A RECORD VICTORY
TRAVELING for a few seconds at thirty thousand miles per hour, Tom and 
Bud stared in fascination at the speedometer. For a moment thoughts of Rot-zog 
were erased from their minds. But the next moment, the boys realized that the 
terrific speed was fast-consuming their fuel supply and straining every part of the 
Star Spear.
Tom, after swooping under Rotzog's rocket, had swerved in a parallel line to 
his orbital flight. Sure that Rotzog could not overtake him now, he rose in a 
diagonal course until he met the orbit, then turned off his fuel. Tom knew he had 
used more than was advisable.
Bud had not taken his eyes from the radarscopes, but no further pips had 
appeared. This time, Tom had outmaneuvered his enemy!
"Where are we?" Bud asked.
"Over the Isthmus of Panama." For a minute
201
202 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
Tom forgot the gravity of the situation and smiled. "First stop San Francisco!"
"I hope my mother and dad will be there to meet us," Bud wished aloud. "It 
sure will be good to see them."
"My folks and the Newtons will barely have time to make it in the Sky 
Queen," Tom commented.
"Say, I hadn't thought of that," Bud reflected. "Imagine! We will have gone all 
around the world in the same time it takes them to get from Fearing Island to San 
Francisco."
Tom smiled. "It sort of proves the truth of the old saying about the longest 
way round being the shortest way home. What time is it, anyway?"
"One forty-five."
There was a sudden crackling on the radio. It had been silent for so long that 
the boys were startled to hear it.
"International Code," Tom said. "An SOS, Bud, from Rotzog! His motors 
won't fire and he's almost out of fuel!"
There was a silence of several seconds, then a request for an answer.
"Don't give him one. It's a trap!" Bud declared.
Tom was in a quandary. As Bud had suggested, an answer to Rotzog might 
give him a fix on their position and permit one last attack. On the other hand, he 
could not ignore a genuine plea for help.
A repetition of the message from Rotzog decided Tom. "Let's risk it," he said 
to Bud, and began to tap out an answer.
A RECORD VICTORY 203
"This is Tom Swift. What happened? Where are you?" Tom repeated the 
message.
After a short pause came an answer. "Rotzog speaking. Johnson is with me. 
We're drifting into space. Our air conditioner's going bad. We'll roast to death! 
You must help us!"
"You must help them!" Bud exclaimed heatedly. "Five minutes ago they were 
shooting at us! Now, Rotzog has the nerve to ask you to save them!"
Tom was already sending out a message requesting more information about 
their fuel.
"We're using oxygen-alcohol mixture. Johnson gave me a description of your 
secret apparatus and I built an ozone converter like yours. On our last pass at 
you, it failed. Have only two thousand gallons of fuel left."
"What's your position?" Tom asked. "And the composition of your fuel?"
Bud gazed at Tom incredulously. "You aren't really planning to help those 
guys, are you?" he asked in disbelief.
"I don't really know whether we can yet," Tom answered, "but I'm beginning 
to get some ideas. Let's feed his radio signals into the Spacelane Brain and find 
out what his position and course are. We can learn whether that much of his 
story is true, anyway."
Tom listened intently as Rotzog answered, then said to Bud, "He's using one 
of the first mixtures I tried. It became inactive at fast rates of flow. It can be 
reactivated."
204 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
The Spacelane Brain confirmed Rotzog's position and verified that he was 
not far behind Tom in the same orbital track.
"Rotzog and Johnson really are in bad shape," Tom said. "I can't stand by 
and see them roast from solar radiation."
"Guess you're right," Bud agreed.
Tom tapped, "Rotzog, have you any silver nitrate with you?"
Rotzog gave an affirmative reply and Tom quickly gave instructions. 
"Uncover your ozone converter and slowly pour through the catalyst bed a 
solution of silver nitrate. This will rejuvenate the invention you borrowed from me. 
On your way down, restrict the flow of fuel through it. Don't open your throttle 
wide."
This time, Rotzog did not reply and Bud snorted. "He didn't even thank you. 
Say, Tom, aren't you going to capture him when he comes down?"
"You bet I am," Tom said grimly. Then, looking at his watch, he said, "We'd 
better forget him now and worry about our own landing. Our rocket ship's over 
Lower California, and we must decelerate.
"Turn on that flight tape recorder, Bud," he requested.
As Bud did so, the two boys looked at each other in pleased satisfaction. The 
race was almost over!
Suddenly Tom's elation turned to concern as he glanced at the fuel gauges. 
In order not to crash, he had to get every degree of energy possible from solar 
radiation.
A RECORD VICTORY 205
Tom began to decelerate and kept this up until at two hundred miles above 
the earth the Star Spear was nearly down to zero velocity. To his relief, the kicker 
was still working!
Bud, seeing the pleased expression on his friend's face, reached over and 
said, "Inventor boy, you've even fooled yourself!"
"Yes, I have," Tom admitted quietly.
At sixty miles up the kicker stopped working and Tom cut in the regular fuel 
line. But the worry about conserving the fuel was over.
The flight tape recorder nicely engineered the difficult descent through the 
outer layer of air. The Star Spear was reversed, so that the thrust of the motors 
was upward to brake their descent.
Within a few minutes the boys could distinguish the outline of San Francisco 
and soon they were hovering five thousand feet over the Navy airport.
"Look at the crowd!" Bud cried, as they drew near the field.
Excited people were rushing about, cars were arriving in droves. News 
cameras were mounted on building tops. Television equipment stood poised on 
the runway.
"There's the Sky Queen!" Tom cried. "My folks are here!"
After receiving clearance to land, Tom slowly throttled down the motors, and 
amidst the cheers of the crowd, set the history-making craft down on its 
magnesium cylinder landing legs on the runway in front of the administration 
building.
206 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
The space-defeating rocket swayed slightly as the landing-weight distributor 
moved a fraction to bring the craft level. Tom turned off the engines and 
beckoned Bud to crank open the heavy, airtight door.
As the two boys looked out, the applause became tremendous. They waved 
and gave an overhead handclasp. Waving back at them frantically were the 
Swifts, the Newtons, and the Barclays.
Tom suddenly noticed the large airport clock. It showed the time to be only 
9:20.
"Look at that clock, Bud!" he laughed. "We left Fearing Island at ten. We've 
traveled around the world in minus forty minutes!"
"It's a good thing this isn't Singapore." Bud grinned. "Or we'd be getting there 
yesterday!"
By this time the newsmen, photographers, and telecasters were milling 
around the Star Spear. The boys posed and made statements.
Eyes popped when Tom told his audience of his encounter with Rotzog and 
Johnson, and said the authorities should be notified to pick them up. A policeman 
hurried off to do this, while a reporter told the boys that Radnor, led by a 
fisherman, had found Rotzog's hide-out in the Aleutians. Though the rocket ship 
had been launched by the time they reached it, all Rotzog's workers had been 
captured.
"And now, Tom Swift," the reporter said, "before you go, tell us what your 
next invention will be."
Torn laughingly shrugged, not knowing at the moment that it would be his 
Giant Robot.
A RECORD VICTORY 207
Tom asked if there was news yet of the rocket that had taken off from 
Australia.
"Not yet," a TV man replied.
At last the boys' families and friends were able to push their way through the 
crowd.
"It just doesn't seem possible, Tom!" Mrs. Swift said, hugging her son 
affectionately. "Congratulations, my dear."
"Thank you, Mother."
Sandy threw her arms around her brother and said, "Next trip I want to be 
your copilot. How about it?"
"And take my job away from me?" Bud called. "Never!"
"But we might make it a foursome," Tom said, smiling at Phyl Newton. She 
stood on her tiptoes and blushingly kissed him.
"Any souvenirs of the trip?" Mr. Swift asked, after a firm handshake with his 
son and a slap on the back.
"You're the only person we brought a gift to," Tom replied. "Your dust 
collector is full of mineral particles from space-every color of the rainbow."
At this moment Mr. Hopkins and two other members of the Rocket 
Commission walked up to claim their sealed instruments. Though much of the 
data enclosed would not be made public for some time, Mr. Hopkins confirmed 
that the Star Spear had indeed made an orbital flight around the earth.
As the commissioners congratulated the boys, a reporter came running to the 
group with a double news flash. Rotzog had been apprehended in Lower 
California. And secondly, the rival rocket had been unable to finish the race 
because of a fuel shortage. It had landed on a small island off Bermuda.
"Too bad," Tom remarked, but his friends did not agree.
Mr. Hopkins stepped forward. Clasping Tom's hand, he said over a 
microphone:
"That means you win the race! . . . The prize of one hundred thousand 
dollars, and the honor that goes with it, is awarded to eighteen-year-old Tom 
Swift!"


THE END
TOM SWIFT AND HIS ROCKET SHIP
BY VICTOR APPLETON II
No. 3 in the Tom Swift Jr. series.