th, 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 circumstances 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
hea