kle.

The boys submerged in the test tank and proceeded to give the new
underwater communication system a thorough check-out. It worked
perfectly. Ten minutes later Tom and Bud clambered out again, dripping
wet but well satisfied.

They had just peeled off their masks when Chow came charging into the
lab, with a crowd of workmen and technicians at his heels. The cook was
wild-eyed with panic.

"What's wrong, Chow?" Tom asked in alarm.

CHAPTER IX

A MAGNETIC KIDNAPING

"The space people or some enemy's invadin' us!" Chow shouted. "Take a
squint through your telescope, boss! Brand my bazooka, they may be
landin' any second!"

More people came streaming in, attracted by the chef's cries and
gesticulations. Some were bewildered, a few frightened. Others were
laughing, thinking the whole thing a joke. The scene was rapidly taking
on the proportions of a riot!

"Whoa! Slow down, Chow!" Tom ordered, trying to make himself heard above
the din.

"It--it's the truth, boss!" Chow stammered, mopping his brow with a huge
red bandanna. "Why, sufferin' rattlesnakes, didn't I hear 'em spoutin'
their space lingo with my own ears?"

"You heard _what_?" Bud said.

"Spoutin' space talk!" the cook repeated. "It come right over the
loud-speaker in the galley! They was chitter-chatterin' plottin' to blow
us all to smithereens!"

"That's a fact! We heard it, too!" one of the workmen chimed in.

Tom and Bud looked at each other blankly. Then suddenly Tom's eyes
kindled with a dawning suspicion. Whirling around, he rushed over to
inspect the public-address outlet on the wall.

Meanwhile, Mr. Swift had just driven in through the main gate of
Enterprises. "What's going on?" he asked the guard at the gate, noting
the excited hubbub around Tom's laboratory.

"Don't rightly know, sir," the guard replied. "I was wondering myself. I
know it sounds crazy, but I thought I heard someone yelling there was
going to be a space attack."

Mr. Swift's eyebrows lifted in amazement. Without further discussion, he
stepped on the accelerator and sped off along the paved drive. Seconds
later, his car braked to a stop near Tom Jr.'s private laboratory. The
scientist jumped out and made his way through the milling crowd.

"What's going on?" Mr. Swift stared in astonishment at Tom and Bud, who
were both doubled up with laughter.

"A scrambled radio alert, Dad," Tom gasped between chuckles. "Chow
thought some Martian monsters were invad