Tom Swift and the Electronic Hydrolung

Victor Appleton
Tom Swift and the Electronic
Hydrolung, by

Victor Appleton This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no
cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give
it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License
included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Tom Swift and the Electronic Hydrolung
Author: Victor Appleton
Illustrator: Charles Brey
Release Date: September 12, 2006 [EBook #19258]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM
SWIFT AND THE ELECTRONIC ***

Produced by Greg Weeks, Graeme Mackreth and the Online
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[Illustration]

TOM SWIFT AND THE ELECTRONIC HYDROLUNG
[Illustration: The grenade went streaking straight toward Tom!]
THE NEW TOM SWIFT JR. ADVENTURES
TOM SWIFT AND THE ELECTRONIC HYDROLUNG
BY VICTOR APPLETON II
ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES BREY
NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS

Copyright BY GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC., 1961
[Transcriber's note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidence
that the copyright on this publication was renewed.]
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
1 PIRATE MISSILE 11 2 UNDERSEA SURVEY 20 3 INVISIBLE
SUB 31 4 AERIAL ATTACK 39 5 A HUNCH PAYS OFF 50 6 THE
CAISSON CLUE 56 7 PORPOISE TAG 64 8 DATE TROUBLE 72 9
A MAGNETIC KIDNAPING 81 10 TELEPHONE CODE 90 11
SQUARE-DANCE HOAX 100 12 DETECTION TEST 109 13
ENEMY FROGMEN 119 14 A PROPAGANDA BLITZ 130 15
MOUNTAIN HIKE 140 16 THE GUNMAN'S SURPRISE 148 17 A
MISSING AMULET 156 18 SMILEY THE SEA COW 166 19
FLASH FROM THE DEPTHS 176 20 A LUCKY BLAST 183

CHAPTER I
PIRATE MISSILE
Tense, excited men gazed spaceward from the ships and planes of the
South Atlantic task force. Other watchers waited breathlessly in the
control room of the ship Recoverer. Among these was Tom Swift Jr.
"How close to earth is our Jupiter probe missile?" Bud Barclay asked
Tom excitedly.
The lanky blond youth beside him, in T shirt and slacks, shot a glance
at the dials of the tracking equipment. "Eight thousand miles from this
spot, Bud. It should land here in fifteen minutes!"
Tom Jr., his father, Bud, and a host of scientists, Navy officers, and
newsmen were crowded aboard a U.S. Navy missile launching ship.
"Just think!" Bud exulted. "You'll have data from the planet Jupiter that
no one on earth has yet been able to get!"
"If we recover the missile safely," Mr. Swift spoke up hopefully. The
elder scientist's voice was quiet but taut with the strain of waiting. The
two Swifts resembled each other closely--each had deep-set blue eyes
and clean-cut features--although Tom was somewhat taller and rangier.
"You're right, Dad," Tom agreed. "If we don't snare the missile, our
whole project will be a total loss to America's space program!"
At Tom's words, the watchers and crewmen who were crowded into the
Recoverer's control room stirred restlessly. Its bulkheads were banked
with radar and telemetering devices. Tension had been mounting
throughout the morning aboard the ships and observation planes of the
task force as everyone awaited the return of the planet-circling
missile--scientists' deepest penetration into space so far.
"What do you mean, a total loss?" Bud argued. "Even if the recovery
operation's a flop, the shot will still pay off in valuable information,

won't it?"
Tom shook his head grimly. "The purpose of this unmanned,
exploratory flight around Jupiter was to take and record all kinds of
data. But none of the info is being radioed back to us."
"How come?"
"If we had put in radio gear strong enough to relay signals back, it
would have cut down the amount of information-gathering equipment
aboard," Tom explained. "We had to make every ounce count."
Outwardly calm, Tom was seething with inner excitement. Although
only eighteen--the same age as his husky, dark-haired pal and copilot,
Bud Barclay--Tom had been given the job of directing the recovery
phase of the United States government's Project Jupiter survey. The
Swifts and their rocket research staff had built the missile and
engineered the space probe for the government.
"Whew!" Bud gave a nervous whistle. "I see what you mean, pal. With
all our eggs in one basket, we sure can't afford to get butter-fingered
with the Jupiter prober."
Admiral Walter, a tall, distinguished man, graying at the temples,
smiled. "It's what we call in warfare a calculated risk, Bud," he said.
"But with Tom in charge, I believe we have nothing to worry about."
Mr. Swift's eyes shone with fatherly pride at the admiral's remark. Tom
Jr.'s pioneering rocket flights and inventions had won the youth a top
rank in American space research.
"Guess you're right, sir," Bud agreed. "I'll back genius boy here any
day!"
Tom winced
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