As they streaked homeward, Chow was still fuming. "Why don't we post a
dummy sub there to scare off the varmints?"
"I'll pass the idea along to the Navy," Tom said with a grin.
Night had fallen when the searchers arrived back at Fearing Island. Tom
cleared with the tower and landed, then went by jeep to base
headquarters. He called Enterprises and learned that Bud's condition was
improved, and that Mr. Swift had returned that afternoon. He spoke to
him about the mystery sub.
"This is bad news indeed, son," Mr. Swift said, after hearing how the
attacker had defied detection. "You'd better inform Admiral Walter. He
had to fly back to Washington."
"I'll call him right away," Tom promised.
The admiral was equally disturbed when Tom succeeded in reaching him.
"We must find that missile as soon as possible--at any cost," he said.
"Tom, you Swifts have had considerable experience in undersea dredging.
Could you send a team of engineers to assist us in the work?"
"Yes, sir," the young inventor replied. "I'll assign men to the job
first thing tomorrow."
After hanging up, Tom hopped back to the mainland with Chow in a Pigeon
Special. This sleek little commercial plane was manufactured by the
Swift Construction Company in charge of Ned Newton.
Early the next morning Tom and his father drove to Enterprises, and the
young inventor plunged into the job of organizing an engineering crew
for the missile hunt.
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