Tom Swift and His Repelatron Skyway Read Online Free PDF Page B

friend to both, utterly devoted to his young boss, the roly-poly older man was Enterprises’ designated chef for the plant’s top executives.
    "So what do you think of ‘Tom Swift and His Invisible Flying Bridge’?" needled Bud. "Ready to saddle up and be the first across? It’s just a five story drop!"
    Tom joined the affectionate joshing. "Don’t encourage him, pal. Chow’s had some trouble before with flying around on repelatron power."
    "Say, I remember that!"
    The weathered cook reddened. "Wish you’d jest fergit about that time, you two. Nobody told me that flyin’ donkey machine of yours’d get so dang jittery. Speakin’ o’ which—I coulda sworn you said those repellers couldn’t be used so close to the ground, boss."
    The young inventor nodded. "They can’t be used to push against the ground at close range, not from anything moving, because they can’t adjust rapidly enough to the fine detail in the mixed element configurations. But the repelaspan system is aimed upward at the vehicles, not down. It doesn’t interact with the ground at all."
    Turning away from Chow and Bud, Tom now became immersed in the final preparation for this important test. Speaking on his cellphone, he had various plant employees roll several test vehicles into position near the repelaspan "onramps," which hung out into space like mute tongues. The vehicles had been hoisted onto the rooftops earlier in the day by the Workchopper.
    The youths failed to notice Chow leaving—or the thoughtful frown on his prairie-furrowed face. "Hmmph!" he grumbled to himself. "guess I shor did make a blame sight o’ myself that other time. Thought I ’as so golly-durn smart . Butcha know, Winkler― " A thought struck him in bow-legged mid-stride. "Mebbe it ain’t too late t’hold up Texas honor!"
    Presently the unmanned, motorless test vehicles had been rolled into position and the employees had left the roofs. They quickly joined Tom and Bud on the ground, curious to watch the outcome of the test.
    Sirens on each of the mechanisms blared out once, twice. "System activated!" announced the young scientist-inventor. "Now the computer will tune-in on the first of the cars, and the beam setup will start to― "
    " Hey, look! " one of the men cried out, pointing. "Who’s that? What’s he doing up there?"
    A figure had appeared against the bright sky, standing on one of the ramps, which were stubby but fairly broad.
    "Good night!" Bud chortled in amused surprise. "Chow! Guess the old timer’s gonna be the first across after all!" He chuckled.
    But Tom cut him off with a sharp glance. "Knock it off!— he’ll kill himself! "
     
CHAPTER 5
VOODOO STEW AND METAL BIRDS
    "KILL HIMSELF!" repeated one of the watchers in amazement.
    Bud was shocked. "Huh? Whatta you mean?
    "I mean the repelatrons are tuned to the metal in the car frames, not to human bodies! "
    Bud Barclay understood instantly and turned white. "Oh man, he’ll fall right through!"
    The crowd began to yell frantically and wave their arms. Looking downward, Chow gave a jaunty wave back at them and began a slow walk forward toward the end of the ramp.
    " Chow, don’t! " Tom shouted at the top of his lungs. " Stop! " But all the overlapping voices of the crowd buried the warning in a cacophony of sound.
    The heavyset cook reached the end of the ramp, gave a big gulp almost visible from five stories distant, and raised his foot. The watchers gasped and shrieked!—as a pair of strong arms clamped themselves to Chow’s wide beltline and yanked him backwards, forcefully pulling him off the ramp and onto the rooftop.
    The crowd cheered, no one more wildly than Bud. Tom just rubbed the cold sweat off his brow with a trembling hand.
    In moments Chow made a sheepish appearance at ground level, followed by Enterprises’ chief engineer, youthful Hank Sterling—Chow’s rescuer.
    "S-sorry, boss. Guess I—kinda― "
    "Uh-huh." Tom’s look was stern and nearly all frown.
    "Good thing ol’