structure next."

"Do you know where to find one?"

"Yes; about a mile from here is one I've had my eyes on ever since I
began constructing the tank. I don't know who owns it, but it's such a
ramshackle affair that he can't object to having it knocked into
kindling wood for him. If he does holler, I can pay him for the damage
done. So now for a barn, Ned, unless you're getting tired and want to
go back?"

"I should say not! Speaking of barns, I'm with you till the cows come
home! Want any more machine gun work?"

"No, I guess not. This barn isn't particularly isolated, and the
shooting might scare horses and cattle. We can smash things up without
the guns."

The tank was going on smoothly when suddenly there was a lurch to one
side, and the great machine quickly swung about in a circle.

"Hello!" cried Ned. "What's up now? Some new stunt?"

"Must be something wrong," answered the young inventor. "One of the
belts has stopped working. That's why we're going in a circle."

He shut off the power and hastened down to the motor room. There he
found his men gathered about one of the machines.

"What's wrong?" asked Tom quickly.

"Just a little accident," replied the head machinist. "One of the boys
dropped his monkey wrench and it smashed some spark plugs. That caused
a short circuit and the left hand motor went out of business. We'll
have her fixed in a jiffy."

Tom looked relieved, and the machinist was as good as his word. In a
few minutes the tank was moving forward again. It crossed out to the
road, to the great astonishment of some farmers, and the fright of
their horses, and then Tom once more swung her into the fields.

"There's the old barn I spoke of," he remarked to Ned. "It's almost as
bad a ruin as the factory was. But we'll have a go at it."

"Going to smash it?" asked Ned.

"I'm going right through it!" Tom cried

Chapter XVII

Veiled Threats

Like some prehistoric monster about to charge down upon another of its
kind, Tank A, under the guidance of Tom Swift, reeled and bumped her
way over the uneven fields toward the old barn. Within the monster of
steel and iron were raucous noises: the clang and clatter of the
powerful gasolene motors; the rattle of the wheels and gears; all
making so much noise that, in the engine room proper, not a word could
be heard. Every order had to be given by signs, and Tom sent his
electric signals from the conning tower in the same way. When runnin