Bud rushed over.
"Okay! Confess!" the husky young flier roared in a jokingly ferocious
tone.
"Don't get sore!" Rock gasped between chuckles. "I couldn't resist. Boy,
did you hear everyone squeal when the lights went out?"
Tom grinned in relief. "How about another dance, Phyl?"
As the music struck up again, he squeezed Phyl's hand. "I sure
appreciate your concern, even if I didn't rate it."
Phyl blushed as she returned the squeeze. "You rate with me," she
confided shyly.
The festivities finally ended after a thoroughly enjoyable evening. Both
Sandy and Phyl declared to their dates that it more than made up for the
forgotten beach party.
"But let's not wait too long for the next date," Sandy warned playfully.
"Okay, that's a deal," Bud promised.
The next morning at the plant Tom called on Harlan Ames. He told of the
sinister hoax by the caller who had passed himself off as Lester Morris.
The security chief promised to investigate.
"I'll tip off the police about Len Unger," Ames added. "If they can find
him, we may be able to crack this case wide open."
Tom telephoned Bud, Hank Sterling, and Arv Hanson to meet him at the
helijet hangar. The four took off in one of the Swifts' Whirling Ducks,
which was standing by loaded and ready. Soon they landed on Fearing
Island, where Tom would try out his antidetection invention.
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