Tom Swift and his house on wheels

by Victor Appleton

"Say, cut that stuff out!" and Tom seemed serious. "Who's said anything about a honeymoon?"

"Nobody—nobody's said a word. At least, you and Mary haven't," admitted the financial manager. "But actions speak louder than words. And I thought that's why you were getting this canal boat in shape."

"Nothing of the sort!" exclaimed Tom sharply. "I mean—of course—that is, I—Oh, heck! Come on out here and take the wheel!"

"All right!" agreed Ned. "But don't blame me for what happens."

"I won't," and Tom steered the machine over to the side of the road to bring it to a stop out of possible traffic while he changed places with his chum.

After proceeding at a moderate rate for a mile or two, in order to familiarize himself with the brakes and controls, Ned let out a little more gas and the House on Wheels shot ahead on the smooth, level concrete highway which the two had practically to themselves.

"How does she feel, Ned?" asked Tom, as they sped along.

"Fine."

"And how does she handle?"

"Light as a cork! There's no steering strain at all."