Free Tom Swift and His Flying Lab by Victor Appleton II

improvements to its motor constituted his first invention. Tom Swift had shared many adventures with his much older friend during the first part of the twentieth century, and he was remembered and honored even now.
    The Damonscope mock-up resembled an enlarged version of the old-fashioned box cameras from days past. It was basically a square black chassis with a tubular lens assembly protruding from the front. Cables from the box led to an instrument readout panel.
    "The target is in place in that anti-rad bottle over there," said Linda, pointing to the opposite end of the lab. "Shall I expose it?"
    "Go ahead," Tom replied, switching on the Damonscope.
    Linda pressed a button on her remote control, and a band encircling the container slowly rotated until an opening came into view. Adjusting the various dials on the instrument panel, Tom concentrated his attention on a small round monitor, which resembled a radarscope screen. In the middle of the monitor was a shadowy black-and-white image of the anti-rad bottle and the rack supporting it. As Tom continued making adjustments, the area surrounding the bottle’s aperture began to show a green halo on the screen.
    "There it is!" cried Tom, delighted. "The Damonscope is actually mapping the pattern of radiation onto the viewscreen."
    After testing a variety of settings, Tom called his father on the televoc.
    "That’s wonderful news, son," said Mr. Swift, "especially coming on the heels of the incident this morning. And I have some news for you, too."
    "What is it, Dad?"
    "It’s a bit disturbing. The Canadian authorities informed the FBI that a small plane was stolen from a farm up in Newfoundland earlier this morning. The owner caught a glimpse of the thief, and it matches the man who stole the helicopter!"
    Tom’s voice grew solemn as thoughts of his new invention momentarily vanished from his mind. "Have they been able to track it?"
    "From the few sightings received, it’s heading south by southwest, which puts it on a fairly good course towards Shopton. But Tom, this man must be quite a flier—he’s taking the plane dangerously low, presumably to elude radar."
    "It figures," observed the young inventor. "Dad, some of our Enterprises planes are outfitted with that new phase-diffraction radar of yours, which is just the thing for catching a ground-hugger. I want to go up and see what I can see!"
    "I won’t try to stop you," said Damon Swift. "But take another experienced pilot with you. Is Bud back yet?"
    "No," was Tom’s response. "I’ll take Hank Sterling." Hank Sterling was a young engineer who had become fast friends with Tom and Bud.
    "That’s a good choice," Mr. Swift commented, much relieved. "You may need help."
    A few minutes later Tom was piloting one of Swift Enterprises’ two-seater propeller-driven planes down the runway.
    "I’ll swing her in a big circle, concentrating north and east. Keep a sharp eye on the sky, Hank," Tom directed the blond, square-jawed young engineer. "We’re looking for a Renshaw, kind of an older model."
    "I used to fly one," said Sterling. "I’ll recognize it."
    They flew for several minutes at full throttle. Then Tom broke the tense silence, gesturing at the radar screen. "Picking up something, very low. Let’s take a look." He banked the plane, heading onto an intercept course. Scanning the horizon ahead of them, Hank said suddenly:
    "I see something far ahead."
    Tom’s alert eyes shifted from his instrument panel to the sky in front of him as the Swift plane drew closer. It was definitely a Renshaw dead ahead, and they were rapidly gaining on it.
    Hank whistled. "Man, that guy’s really clipping the trees. I wouldn’t think it possible to fly so low!"
    "Just shows he really is a low-down snake," joked Tom.
    "Hey, he’s swinging around!" exclaimed Hank.
    "He’s probably going to land," Tom murmured, down-throttling, "but I don’t see any airstrip."
    A minute later the Renshaw dipped behind a stand of tall pine and was