nd mince pie.

"What's wrong? Are we repulsive or something?" Bud asked as they ate.

Tom shrugged, concentrating on a mouthful of roast beef. "Search me. We
sure don't seem very popular with the girls tonight."

Mrs. Swift, overhearing their remarks in the kitchen, smiled but
maintained a diplomatic silence.

Suddenly Bud slapped his forehead. "Good night! No wonder!"

Tom looked up with a grin of interest. "Well, what have we done?"

"It's what we _haven't_ done, pal!" Bud retorted. "We had a date this
afternoon, remember? That beach party and dance put on by Sandy and
Phyl's school sorority!"

Tom gulped. "Oops! Boy, we really did pull a boner this time! I
completely forgot!"

As they finished supper, the boys discussed various ways to make amends.
Boxes of chocolates? Flowers? None of their ideas seemed to have the
proper spark.

"We'll have to come up with something super," Bud said.

"Right!" Tom agreed. "Let's sleep on it and see if we can't dream up
something by tomorrow morning that'll really wow them."

The next morning Tom had a flash of inspiration as he drove to the plant
in his sports car. He hailed Bud at the first opportunity.

"I have it, pal! What say we stage an old-fashioned square dance Tuesday
night at the yacht club on Lake Carlopa?"

Bud's eyes lighted up. "Hey, that's a great idea! We'll invite a whole
gang, get Chow to handle the refreshments, and make it a real shindig!"

The boys shook hands enthusiastically. Eager to patch matters up as soon
as possible, they invited Sandy and Phyl out to lunch that day. Over
dessert, the boys announced their plans for a square dance.

"We--uh--realize we goofed yesterday on that beach party," Tom said
sheepishly. "But we're hoping you'll give us another chance."

The girls looked at each other, their eyes twinkling, then burst into
giggles.

"You're forgiven completely!" Phyl declared.

"Then it's a date?" Bud put in.

"You bet it's a date, and don't you forget it!" Sandy warned. "Phyl and
I are going right over to Dorman's Department Store and pick out some
cute outfits for the dance!"

Tom and Bud chuckled over the success of their scheme as they drove back
to Enterprises. Later that afternoon a telephone call interrupted Tom as
he worked in his lab on a sonic-communications system for the hydrolung
apparatus.

"This is Lester Morris," said the voice at the other end of the line.
The name did not register with Tom at first until