by John Blaine
“But we covered the southern area like a blanket,” Rick objected.
“I know you did. We have to consider the timing, Rick. You got to the intersection before the car could possibly have made it, then you worked north. I figure the car could have made about five-eighths of the distance from Whiteside to the intersection in the same time, if it really traveled. We’d better assume that it turned off somewhere and never got to the intersection. In other words, the car is still somewhere in the area.”
“Couldn’t it have gotten out during the night?” Rick asked.
“Not a chance,” Captain Douglas replied definitely. “I didn’t remember to tell you this last night, but we asked for help from the Civil Defense Auxiliary Police in our search for Soapy Strade. They set up road blocks on every road out of the area about the time you and Gus got back. They’ll be on duty until we get Strade. And we’ve given them a description of the hit-and-run car, too, so they can watch for it as Page 13
well as for Soapy.”
Rick knewNew Jersey had a good Civil Defense force. He was glad the State Police had asked for their co-operation.
“How do we dig this car out?” he asked.
“Mainly, by keeping your eyes open,” Captain Douglas said. “Will you take another swing over the southern area this morning?”
“We’ll get going as soon as I can dress and have breakfast,” Rick agreed. “There will be plenty of time before we have to go to work.”
“Good. Drop a message, as I told you yesterday, if you see anything. Then phone me when you land.”
“Will do,” Rick said. “How’s the search for the gangster coming?”
“No luck. So far as we know, he hasn’t crossed into our state. TheNew York police think he may have headed north to the border.”
“Hope you get him,” Rick said. He rang off and ran upstairs to shower and get into his clothes.
A short time later he paused on the way downstairs and knocked on Barby’s door.
“Come in,” Barby said.
He pushed open the door and walked in. Barby was propped up in bed with a breakfast tray on her lap.
She had regained her color.
“What luxury!” Rick exclaimed. “Breakfast in bedHow long does this go on?”
Barby smiled. “If it wasn’t extra work for Mother, I’d just as soon have it go on indefinitely. But I’ll be all right by tomorrow. Rick, will they catch that car?”
“Captain Douglas says so.” Rick told her about the phone call. “We’ll keep trying,” he finished. “If the car’s in this area, we’ll get it.”
Barby frowned. “I know you and Scotty,” she stated. “Let the police do it, Rick. Anyone who would smash another car and keep on going is dangerous. You and Scotty can help find the car, but don’t try to do anything else about it, please?”
“We probably won’t get a chance,” Rick said evasively. He didn’t want to make any promises. “Listen, Sis, I got to run. We’ll see you after work tonight. Leg hurt much?”
“Not much,” Barby said. “It was pretty bad last night, but it isn’t hurting much this morning. I’m fine, Rick.”
He gave her a comradely wink. “Make the most of it, Sis. An opportunity to be the center of attraction doesn’t come very often.”
Barby threw a muffin at him. He fielded it and tossed it back. “Temper, temper,” he cautioned. “Invalids Page 14
don’t throw muffins.”
“This one does,” Barby said. “Go away.” But she couldn’t help smiling.
Rick found Scotty already eating breakfast in the big dining room. Mrs. Brant joined them for coffee.
“The others have gone to work,” Mrs. Brant told them. “Your father took them to the Whiteside landing a little while ago. He should be back any moment. Are you going to start working today?”
“After we take another look for that hit-and-run car,” Rick said.
The boys finished breakfast quickly,then went out to the Cub. The gas supply was low and it was necessary to go via the Whiteside airport.
Gus, the airport manager, speculated on the maroon car’s location as he hosed gasoline into the tank.
“Must be close by.Didn’t get out in my area. I stayed in the air until I saw the Civil Defense cops setting up road blocks.Douglas said he radioed his patrol car up north and they kept the highway bottled like a cork. You’ll find it somewhere aroundSeaford , and I’ll bet on it.”
“I hope you win,” Scotty said grimly. “I want to widen my circle of friendship. I want to meet a guy who drives a maroon sedan.”
Gus nodded soberly. “When you do, I’ll lend you a heavy wrench.”
Air-borne once again, Rick headed south as he had the day before. At the intersection, he and Scotty saw the road block set up by the Civil Defense police. They were stopping each car as it approached the intersection from theShore Road , and they were giving the cars a careful going-over before permitting them to continue.
Rick spoke his satisfaction. “Strade or the hit-and-run driver won’t get past those guys.”
“Unless they’ve managed to already,” Scotty added. “Let’s head north. Take your time and keep low.
I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”
They covered the area practically a yard at a time, now and then swooping low for a closer look at something. Only once did they find a maroon car. It was in a garage at Jerrick’s Crossing. The garage doors were open, and Rick flew so low his wheels touched the topmost branch of a tree. The car was a convertible, and of the wrong make.
Nowhere else, from the intersection to Whiteside, did they even see a suspicion of a marooncar. The hit-and-run car had vanished from sight.
“If it’s in the area, it’s under cover,” Scotty said. “No use beating the air.Might as well go to work.”
Rick nodded. Scotty was right. He banked around and headed for the project. In a short time the curving structure of the roller coaster was in sight, then the amusement park itself.
“I’m going to buzz the field,” Rick said. “Take a long look for any obstructions.”
He lost altitude rapidly, pulling out at a hundred feet. As they flashed over the level stretch where they could land between the amusement park and the road, he stood the plane up on a wing to give Scotty a Page 15
better look.
Past the strip, he leveled off and gained altitude. He cast a look at Scotty. “Is it okay?”
Scotty had a thoughtful expression on his face. “Do it again. Stay a little higher and slower.”
“All right.”Rick banked around and made another run. “See anything?”
“Yes. I saw a track in the grass where a car has gone in through the fence.”
Rick’s pulse quickened. “I want a look at the amusement park. Let’s ride the roller coaster.”
“Let’s,” Scotty agreed.
Rick circled over the amusement park, keeping barely above the top of the roller coaster. Both he and Scotty scanned the ground below. There was no sign of life. The buildings were shabby, either unpainted or with peeling paint. Grass had sprung up everywhere. Even the midway was overgrown. But here and there were stretches of black-top road, running between the buildings.
“Mighty queer,” Scotty said. “Why should they pave inside, and not pave the main entrance?”
“The main entrance isn’t on theShore Road ,” Rick explained. “I’ll show you.” He made another wide swing over the amusement park. On its north side was a paved roadway leading in from theShore Road to a huge gate. “There’s the main entrance. They put it there so people could find parking space in that big field across the way.” The parking field would have been a better landing place, except for posts that had marked off the parking areas.
“There must be some kind of gate on theShore Road side,” Scotty objected. “A car wouldn’t go right up to the fence, stop, and back out again.”
“Of course not,” Rick agreed. “There’s probably a service gate of some kind. But the best way to
tell is to land and see. We have to land, anyway, if we’re going to work.”
He swung wide and gauged his altitude and distance, then cut the throttle. The nose dropped to glide position. “Keep a sharp eye out,” he warned. “Let’s not pile up on an old bucket or something.” His father had examined the field, but someone could have tossed junk there since.
The Cub lost altitude rapidly, dropped low over the electric wires that had served the amusement park, sped down the grassy field and then “sold out.” Rick hauled the wheel back into his lap and felt the wheels touch grass. The plane settled and slowed rapidly. In a moment Rick locked the brakes and the boys got out.
Around the corner of the amusement park fence they could see the project building, but before walking to it, they went back to where Scotty had seen the automobile tracks in the grass.
The grass was a good ten inches high. There was no doubt that a car had passed over it, crushing it down. The boys looked at each other without speaking. No words were necessary because they were both thinking the same thing. They walked down the twin rows of crushed grass to the high board fence that surrounded the amusement park. The rows ended at a gate. It was obviously not a public gate, since no paved road led to it. Probably it had been used to bring in heavy equipment, shortening the distance from the main highway.
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“First we go to see Dr. Winston,” Rick said.
“Then what?”
Rick grinned at Scotty, but there was no mirth in it. “Then we figure out a way to get inside this fence. A car went in, all right, but no car came out.At least not this way. So it’s still inside, probably. And maybe .
. . just maybe . . . it’s a maroon sedan.”
“Well find out,” Scotty said.
The project building was a boxlike affair, two stories high. The first floor was all one big room. Benches had been improvised at one end, and packing cases had been stood on their sides in tiers to form shelves. There were tables made by putting planks across sawhorses. The place was so cluttered Rick wondered how anyone could possibly find anything.
In the midst of the clutter, Dr. Parnell Winston and Dr. Julius Weiss were bent over a stack of wiring diagrams. At the benches were several technicians who had been hired for the project. The air was heavy with the typical odors of an electronics laboratory, mostly burnt insulation and the acrid smoke of soldering.
At one end of the big room, in front of a wide, flimsy door, stood what appeared to be a tractor. It had caterpillar treads and a powerful engine. But there were no shift levers, no steering wheel, and no place for a man to sit. Against the wall near by was a huge bulldozer blade.
Rick and Scotty walked through the maze of cases and parts to where Winston and Weiss were pouring over the diagrams. Not wanting to interrupt, they stood waiting.
Parnell Winston was a powerfully built six-footer with a heavy thatch of thick black hair and amazingly bushy eyebrows. His face was ruddy. He was forty, but looked ten years younger. Rick had seen him only a few times, and then briefly, but he liked what little he had seen of the new scientist.
Julius Weiss, an old friend, was a much older man. He was small, slight, and stooped, with thinning hair.
He was widely known as a mathematician, as well as a leading scientist in the electronics field.
“I think we’d better redesign the circuit,” Winston said. “There’s a space problem, but we can overcome it by using transistors instead of tubes. I prefer transistors for a job of this sort, anyway. They won’t break on impact.”
Julius Weiss agreed. “Suppose you check on the progress of the memory circuit, then, and I’ll get to work on this.” He looked up and saw the boys. “Well! Did you find the car?”
“No, sir,” Rick answered. “How did you know we were looking for it?”
Weiss smiled. “Behold the younger generation, Winston. It appears that they have never heard of a communications device called the telephone.”
“Your father called to explain that you’d be late,” Winston explained. “Welcome to the project.Ready to buckle down?”
“We will be,” Scotty said, “but there’s something we want to do first.” He told the scientists about the Page 17
track into the amusement park.
Winston shook his head. “I doubt that you’ll find what you’re looking for, but you go ahead and try.
We’ll discuss your work when you get back.”
“We can’t overlook any possibilities,” Rick said. “This won’t take long. We’ll find a loose board in the fence, or we’ll make one. Expect us back in about fifteen minutes.”
Weiss motioned to a workbench. “You’ll find a pinch bar over there. In case you have to pry a bit.” He turned back to his diagrams.
“Let’s go,” Rick said. Scotty was already on his way to the bench. He picked up the bar and followed Rick into the open.
The fence ran along the edge of the project driveway. They inspected it for loose boards and found none. Scotty selected a wide one and grinned at Rick. “Here we go housebreaking.” He inserted the end of the bar and pried. Nails protested. Scotty put on a little more leverage and the bottom of the board came loose.
Scotty tossed the pinch bar to the grass next to the project building door. “After you,” he said politely.
“If we find what we’re looking for, you may wish you had kept that bar,” Rick told him. He squeezed through the opening into the amusement park.
CHAPTER IV
The Amusement Park
Rick surveyed the amusement park carefully, his quick eyes taking in the circular platform of the caterpillar ride, and the flat, wooden bowl of the whip. The machinery had long since been removed from both. He saw wooden platforms where barkers had once touted various other rides which had been removed bodily, leaving no clue as to their type. There were booths which had housed spun candy, lemonade, frozen custard and hot-dog concessions, and low buildings where he remembered seeing a rifle range, a quoit game, and other devices for removing money from the customers.
He pointed to the biggest building. “That used to be the fun house,” he told Scotty. He kept his voice low. “That long building with the queer shape was the water ride.”
Scotty’s voice was low too. “What’s a fun house?”
Rick looked at his pal with amazement. “Haven’t you ever been to an amusement park?”
“Nope.I’ve been to carnivals and circuses, but there never was a fun house.”
“I guess they have them only in permanent places,”
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Rick agreed. “There’s a whole collection of stuff inside. This one had a giant shoot the chutes, a big barrel you could walk through while it turned, a big turntable that spun people off, those wavy mirrors that make you look fat or skinny, and a flight of stairs that would straighten out when you climbed them.”
“Sounds like a good way to break your neck,” Scotty remarked. He, too, was examining every visible inch of the amusement park.
“We’d better go to the spot in the fence where the car came in,” Rick suggested. He led the way.
“Nobody broke their neck because there were warning signs. Anyway, only kids and young people usually tried the stairs and the shoot the chutes. It was fun. There were men to catch anyone who slipped.”
Rick kept close to the fence, Scotty behind him. They reached the corner and turned. Rick watched for a track in the grass, and for signs of a gate, but the grass was so high that they didn’t see the track until they were almost on it. The gate was a hinged section of the fence, secured by a spring-bolt type of lock.
Scotty examined the lock,then tried it. “It’s fairly new,” he commented.“Looks like the park is occupied.”
Rick nodded. He had a sort of creepy feeling, as though they were being watched. “Wonder where the occupants are?”
“In one of the buildings,” Scotty said.“But which one?” They sighted along the path in the grass, but it joined a paved road. “Guess w
e’ll just have to explore,” he added.
Rick’s eye caught a glimpse of twisted grass a little distance away. He walked over and studied the ground. There was no doubt of it. A single path led away from the fence toward the paved road. “Must be a footpath,” he mused. “Where does it come from?”
Scotty was already tracing the path back to the fence. “Look here,” he said softly. He pushed at a board and it swung smoothly away from the fence. He released it and it swung back again.
Rick looked upward and saw a hinge where the board should have been nailed to the upper fence rail.
“We must be on the wrong track,” he said. “This isn’t just a one-time deal. Whoever comes in here must come often. You don’t hinge a section of the fence just to sneak in once or twice.”
Scotty scratched his head. “Now that you mention it, why do you put a hinge on a board at all when there’s a perfectly good gate a few feet away?”
That stopped Rick. He didn’t know. “Now that you mention it,” he replied, “I can’t see any reason.”
Scotty studied the amusement park buildings. “While we’re mentioning things,” he added, “why use this section of the fence, anyway, if there’s a main entrance?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Rick pointed across the grounds to where the towers of the main gate could be seen under the roller coaster. “Let’s take a look.”
They walked diagonally across the grounds toward the gate. It was broad daylight and there was no point in trying to conceal their presence. If anyone challenged them, they would simply say that they were curious about the old amusement park.
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The reason for using the highway side gate was clear before they even reached the main gate. It was not only barred, with a piece of four-by-eight timber, but it was nailed shut. The ticket houses through which pedestrians had once poured were boarded up.
Rick searched his head for a clue to the reason for a hinged board. He said aloud, “The lock on the gate isn’t an old one. Besides, anyone with time enough to put a hinge on a board could either change the gate lock or break it.”
