The young inventor worked all afternoon at a furious pace, breaking off toward dinnertime to telephone his mother that he would be staying overnight at the lab. After a hasty meal, he resumed his layout job at the drawing board and by midnight had finished designing his quality analyzer sonar.
Whipping off his eyeshade, Tom went into the apartment next door and stretched out to snatch a few hours' sleep. But as usual when in the midst of an exciting new project, he was too keyed up to rest for long.
Before daylight, Tom was back at his workbench ready to begin assembling the units of his new sonar gear. Later he phoned Chow but scarcely paused to eat when the cook arrived with his order.
"Brand my solar stovepipe!" Chow scolded. "Take time to eat your vittles properly, boss!"
"Hmm?... Oh, sure." Tom looked up and grinned.
The stout old Texan stomped out, shaking his head.
As the morning wore on, the pace at which Tom had been working began to tell on the young inventor. His head nodded again and again. Gradually he fell forward into an exhausted doze.
The next thing Tom knew, he was sailing through the air, high above Swift Enterprises. Lake Carlopa was a tiny blue puddle below, and the town of Shopton a mere cluster of toy buildings in the distance.
"Good grief!" Tom exclaimed with a gulp. "What's keeping me up?"
He was floating freely, without the support of any aircraft—or even one of his amazing force-ray repelatrons!