Free Tom Swift and His Ultrasonic Cycloplane by Victor Appleton II Page A

the two companions eyed each other in growing panic. They used their walkie-talkies to contact their friends, but there was no reply.
    "Maybe if we yell, they’ll hear us," Doc suggested.
    They shouted themselves hoarse, but the only response was the mocking cries of jungle birds.
    Tom said at last, "Doc, did you happen to pack any fishhooks in your jungle kit?"
    The doctor stared in amazement. "No, but I have some large safety pins you could bend into hooks. Why?"
    "Just an idea—which may not work. Give me some pins and a reel of surgical thread, will you?" By this time, both victims had sunk to their hips in the bubbling ooze. But Doc managed to get out the thread and pins and hand them to Tom. Working fast, the young scientist looped the thread through the ring on his jackknife to weight the line. Then he tied several of the bent pins to one end of the thread; the other end he tied to his belt.
    Twirling the line around and around, he heaved it toward a clump of trees at the edge of the bog. After several misses, Tom finally succeeded in hooking a long trailing creeper which dangled from the tree branches, the only one in range.
    Doc held his breath as Tom began gently reeling in the line. Both feared that under the strain, either the thread might break, or the pins be dislodged. Their last chance for survival would be lost! But finally the vine was close enough for Tom to reach out gingerly and grasp hold.
    "You did it!" Doc exulted as Tom’s hand finally reached out and grabbed the vine.
    "Don’t cheer until we make sure this is strong enough to support our weight," Tom warned him. He began to pull it toward him gently. The vine pulled taut—and suddenly fell limp. It had broken apart!
    "No!" gasped Doc.
    "Got another idea," Tom muttered. He disengaged the pins from the vine, then tossed the weighted line upwards. In a few tries he had managed to hook the overhanging branch of a tree.
    "That branch won’t support a man’s weight, Tom," warned Doc Simpson.
    "Doesn’t have to," was the reply. Tom pulled the long, supple branch down within reach, then grabbed it. As Tom yanked on it repeatedly, the tree to which it was attached swayed and bowed. Suddenly a large bough ripped loose and tumbled down on top of the bog, its broad yellow-green leaves splaying in all directions. Tom slowly dragged himself up on top of the ragged mat, which began to sink down a ways into the bog. But before the bough had been forced down deeply, Tom had hauled himself to safety, and was able to rescue Doc Simpson in turn.
    "I owe you my life, Tom," Doc murmured gratefully.
    Tom shook his head, managing a faint, tired grin. "Without your surgical thread and those safety pins, we’d both have been out of luck."
    After resting for a while, they began to trudge back to camp. Step by step, the two young men groped their way by flashlight through the tangled jungle growth. But even with the yellow beams of their penetrating, high-intensity lights to guide them, the going was slow and tedious. Ten minutes later Tom stopped abruptly.
    "What’s the matter?" Doc inquired.
    "We’re going in circles!"
    A sweep of his flashlight revealed the same patch of pink-flowered herbs which had lured them into the bog.
    "Whew!" Doc shuddered and mopped his brow. "A few more steps and we might have walked right into that bog again!"
    Checking the GPS readout, the two trekkers resumed their slow plodding through the jungle. Minutes went by. Still no flickering campfire greeted them through the trees.
    Once again Tom stopped. "Let’s face it, Doc," he said grimly, "we’re lost. Something—maybe the electrical storm—is fouling up the GPS."
    "Let’s try shouting some more," the physician suggested. "At least we may be within earshot by now."
    "Okay—both barrels," Tom agreed. "And if there’s no response, we’ll try the walkie-talkie again."
    Filling their lungs with air, the two companions let out a long-drawn bellow for help. A moment later the startled