"There is no use
trying to patch up this machine here. I'll have to send a truck
after it, and dismantle it before I can get it home.
"As for either of us staying here on guard, I don't quite see
the need of that. This looks like the jumping-off place to me. I
don't believe there's a native within miles. I didn't see any
houses as we came down, and I think Silent Sam will be perfectly
safe here. No one can run off with him, anyhow. He'd be as hard
to start as an automobile with all four wheels gone. Let's leave
it here and both walk back."
"All right," agreed Jackson. "That suits me. Might as well
leave our togs here, too. It will be easier walking without
them," and he began taking off the fur-lined suit, his cap, and
his goggles, such as he and Tom wore against the piercing cold of
the upper regions.
"We can stuff them in the cockpit and leave them," went on the
mechanician, as he divested himself of his garments. As he stowed
them away in his seat he gave one more look at the broken
muffler. As Tom Swift said, his new silencer had literally blown
up, a large piece having been torn from the gas chamber.
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