a bomb-proof structure, there was lifted one of the big projectiles destined to be hurled from Tom Swift's giant cannon.
"Yes, I think that will do," decided the young inventor, as he watched Koku. "Now, Mr. Damon, if you will kindly oversee this part of the work, I'll see if we can't get that motor in better shape. It didn't work worth a cent this morning."
"Bless my rubber coat, Tom, I'll do all I can to help you!" declared the odd man.
"Massa Tom! Massa Tom!" called Eradicate.
"Yes, Rad. What is it?"
"Heah am dem chicken sandwiches, an' some hot coffee fo' yo' all. I done knowed yo' all wouldn't hab no time t' stop fo' dinnah, so I done made yo' all up a snack."
"That's mighty good of you, Rad," spoke Tom, with a laugh. "I was getting pretty hungry: but I didn't want to stop until I had things moving in better shape. Come on, Ned, let's knock off for a few minutes and take a bite. You, too, Mr. Damon."
As they sat about the place where the gun was being mounted, munching sandwiches and drinking the coffee which the aged colored man had so thoughtfully provided, Eradicate said, with a chuckle:
