ween it and the projectile, and there
is a sort of warfare to see which will give way--the projectile or the
block. In most cases the projectile gracefully bows, so to speak, and
skips out of the muzzle of the gun, though sometimes the big breech
block will be shattered.

With eager eyes Tom and Ned watched the preparations for firing the big
gun. The charge of powder was hoisted out of the bomb-proof chamber
below the barbette, and then the great projectile was brought up in
slings. At the sight of that Tom realized that the gun was no ordinary
one, for the great piece of steel was nearly three feet long, and must
have weighed nearly a thousand pounds. Truly, much powder would be
needed to send that on its way.

"I'm afraid, General, that you are using too much of that strong
powder," Tom heard one officer say to the inventor of the gun. "It may
burst the breech."

"Nonsense, Colonel Washburn. I tell you it is impossible to burst my
gun--impossible, sir! I have allowed for every emergency, and
calculated every strain. I have a margin of safety equal to fifty per
cent."

"Very well, I hope it proves a success."

"Of course it will. It is impossible to burst my gun! Now, are we ready
for the test."

The gun was rather crude in form, not having received its final polish,
and it was mounted on a temporary carriage. But even with that Tom
could see that it was a wonderful weapon, though he thought he would
have put on another jacket toward the muzzle, to further strengthen
that portion.

"I'm going to make a gun bigger than that," said Tom to Ned. He spoke
rather louder than he intended, and, as it was at a moment when there
was a period of silence, the words carried to General Waller, who was
at that moment near Tom.

"What's that?" inquired the rather fiery-tempered officer, as he looked
sharply at our hero.

"I said I was going to make a larger gun than that," repeated Tom,
modestly.

"Sir! Do you know what you are saying? How did you come in here,
anyhow? I thought no civilians were to be admitted today! Explain how
you got here!"

Tom felt an angry flush mounting to his cheeks.

"I came in here on a pass countersigned by you," he replied.

"A pass countersigned by me? Let me it."

Tom passed it over.

"Humph, it doesn't seem to be forged," went on the pompous officer.
"Who are you, anyhow?"

"Tom Swift."

"Hum!"

"General Waller, permit me to introduce Tom Swift to you," spoke
Captain Badge