"Pretzels!" cried Mary.

"Eh? Oh, yes, my dear. I was forgetting again."

There was a moment of merriment, and then, after the talk had run for a while in other and safer channels, Mr. Damon made the announcement:

"I think we're about there. We'll be at Tom's place when we make the turn and--"

He was interrupted by a low, heavy rumbling.

"What's that?" asked Mr. Nestor.

"It's getting louder--the noise," remarked Mary. "It sounds as if some big body were approaching down the road--the tramp of many feet. Can it be that troops are marching away?"

"Bless my spark plug!" suddenly cried Mr. Damon. "Look!"

They gazed ahead, and there, seen in the glare of the automobile headlights, was an immense, dark body approaching them from across a level field. The rumble and roar became more p.r.o.nounced and the ground shook as though from an earthquake.

A glaring light shone out from the ponderous moving body, and above the roar and rattle a voice called:

"Out out of the way! We've lost control! Look out!"

"Bless my steering wheel!" gasped Mr. Damon, "that was Tom Swift's voice! But what is he doing in that--thing?"

"It must be his new invention!" exclaimed Ned.

"What is it?" asked Mr. Nestor.

"A giant," ventured Ned. "It's a giant machine of some sort and--"

"And it's running away!" cried Mr. Damon, as he quickly steered his car to one side--and not a moment too soon! An instant later in a cloud of dust, and with a rumble and a roar as of a dozen express trains fused into one, the runaway giant--of what nature they could only guess--flashed and lumbered by, Tom Swift leaning from an opening in the thick steel side, and shouting something to his friends.

Chapter XI

Tom's Tank

"What was it?" gasped Mary, and, to her surprise, she found herself close to Ned, clutching his arm.

"I have an idea, but I'd rather let Tom tell you," he answered.

"But where's it going?" asked Mr. Nestor. "What in the world does Tom Swift mean by inviting us out here to witness a test, and then nearly running us down under a Juggernaut?"

"Oh, there must be some mistake, I'm sure," returned his daughter. "Tom didn't intend this."

"But, bless my insurance policy, look at that thing go! What in the world is it?" cried Mr. Damon.

The "thing" was certainly going. It had careened from the road, tilted itself down into a ditch and gone on across the fields, lights shooting from it in eccentric fashion.

"Maybe we'd better take after it," suggested Mr. Nestor. "If Tom is--"

"There, it's stopping!" cried Ned. "Come on!"

He sprang from the automobile, helped Mary to get out, and then the two, followed by Mr. Damon and Mr. Nestor, made their way across the fields toward the big object where it had come to a stop, the rumbling and roaring ceasing.

Before the little party reached the strange machine--the "runaway giant," as they dubbed it in their excitement--a bright light flashed from it, a light that illuminated their path right up to the monster.

And in the glare of this light they saw Tom Swift stepping out through a steel door in the side of the affair.

"Are you all right?" he called to his friends, as they approached.

"All right, as nearly as we can be when we've been almost scared to death, Tom," said Mr. Nestor.

"I'm surely sorry for what happened," Tom answered, with a relieved laugh. "Part of the steering gear broke and I had to guide it by operating the two motors alternately. It can be worked that way, but it takes a little practice to become expert."

"I should say so!" cried Mr. Damon. "But what in the world does it all mean, Tom Swift? You invite us out to see something--"

"And there she is!" interrupted the young inventor. "You saw her a little before I meant you to, and not under exactly the circ.u.mstances I had planned. But there she is!" And he turned as though introducing the metallic monster to his friends.

"What is she, Tom?" asked Ned. "Name it!"

"My latest invention, or rather the invention of my father and myself,"

answered Tom, and his voice showed the love and reverence he felt for his parent. "Perhaps I should say adaptation instead of invention," Tom went on, "since that is what it is. But, at any rate, it's my latest--dad's and mine--and it's the newest, biggest, most improved and powerful fighting tank that's been turned out of any shop, as far as I can learn.

"Ladies--I mean lady and gentlemen--allow me to present to you War Tank A, and may she rumble till the pride of the Boche is brought low and humble!" cried Tom.

"Hurray! That's what I say!" cheered Ned.

"That's what I have been at work on lately. I'll give you a little history of it, and then you may come inside and have a ride home."

"In that?" cried Mr. Damon.

"Yes. I can't promise to move as speedily as your car, but I can make better time than the British tanks. They go about six miles an hour, I understand, and I've got mine geared to ten. That's one improvement dad and I have made."

"Ride in that!" cried Mr. Nestor. "Tom, I like you, and I'm glad to see I've been mistaken about you. You have been doing your bit, after all; but--"

"Oh, I've only begun!" laughed Tom Swift.

"Well, no matter about that. However much I like you," went on Mr.

Nestor, "I'd as soon ride on the wings of a thunderbolt as in Tank A, Tom Swift."

"Oh, it isn't as bad as that!" laughed the young scientist. "But neither is it a limousine. However, come inside, anyhow, and I'll tell you something about it. Then I guess we can guide it back. The men are repairing the break."

The visitors entered the great craft through the door by which Tom had emerged. At first all they saw was a small compartment, with walls of heavy steel, some shelves of the same and a seat which folded up against the wall made of like powerful material.

"This is supposed to be the captain's room, where he stays when he directs matters." Tom explained. "The machinery is below and beyond here."

"How'd you come to evolve this?" asked Ned. "I haven't seen half enough of the outside, to say nothing of the inside."