ift, too, joined in on
another line. The four scientists discussed the problem and referred to
geologic maps. Finally the exact sites were agreed upon.

"Dad, I'm going to deliver and install one of those Quakelizors myself,"
Tom declared, after the telephone conference ended. "Judging from that
phone impostor last night, there's no telling what sort of trick our
enemies may try next!"

Mr. Swift approved heartily. "Good idea, son. In the meantime, I'll see
what I can accomplish with Ole Think Box here."

Tom notified Uncle Ned of the delivery sites. He requested that because
of the urgency of the situation, Swift planes transport the Quakelizors.
Mr. Newton promised to have five cargo jets loaded and prepared for
take-off from the construction company airfield.

Next, Tom turned to the job of rounding up flight crews. He decided that
Hank Sterling, Arv Hanson, Art Wiltessa, and a crack Swift test pilot,
Slim Davis, would each captain a plane.

Tom was just hanging up the telephone when Chow wheeled in a lunch cart,
bearing sizzling servings of steak for the two Swifts.

"How's Ole Think Box comin' along?" Chow inquired.

"All right now, but he went berserk a while back," Tom replied with a
chuckle.

Chow eyed the robot apprehensively and made a hasty exit. Both Tom Jr.
and Tom Sr. were amused.

As they ate, the two scientists continued their discussion on how to
equip Exman with senses and the power of speech. Several minutes later,
when they were finishing dessert, Bud came into the laboratory.

"Tom, what's this about you hopping off somewhere to install a
Quakelizor?" he asked anxiously.

"Don't worry, pal. I'll need my usual copilot," Tom said with a grin.
"Just didn't have time to call you before lunch. We'll be flying down to
a place called San Rosario in the Caribbean."

At one o'clock Tom briefed the flight crews and technicians. Slim was
provided with three men who had worked on the original model of the
quake deflector. After making sure that every man knew his job, Tom had
the groups flown by helicopter over to the Swift Construction Company
airfield.

Tom and Bud's cargo jet was the second to take off. On signal from the
tower, the big workhorse thundered down the runway and soared off into
the blue. Soon it was spearing southward above the waters of the
Atlantic.

Presently Bud drew Tom's attention to some blurry specks of light on the
radarscope. "Looks like a formation of planes, skippe