by John Blaine
He is engaged in making artificial crystals. You know, of course, that most frequencies in electronics are crystal controlled?”
Rick said, “That’s what he was doing with the annealing furnace!”
“Correct, Rick.” Hartson Brant smiled. “But, Keppner, surely you and I can’t do this job alone! Think of the scope of the task. We need more help.”
“Help is on its way,” Dr. Keppner assured him. “You’ve heard of Dr. Ralph Bertona?”
“OfWesternUniversity?I certainly have! I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting him, but
I know his work very well. He’s a man I’d like to have on my staff.”
“Which is certainly the highest compliment you could pay,” Dr. Keppner chuckled.
“Well, Bertona is flying from the West Coast. He should be here late tonight.” He stood up. “Suppose we get to work. We have the broad outline of what we need. I’m sure we can produce.”
He took them into the laboratory where two men were already at work. One, an older man who looked like the traditional figure of a nearsighted bookkeeper, was bent over a drawing board.
“This is Mr. Terhune,” Dr. Keppner said.“A wonderful craftsman with a drawing pen.
Hell draft the blueprints from which we will work.” He indicated the other man who was busy with a broom. “Mr. Fanning is my assistant. If you need any equipment, he will supply it.”
Fanning, a younger man with rimless glasses and a luxuriant brown mustache, looked up from his floor sweeping and nodded. “Glad to know you. Are any of you experts with a broom?”
“We don’t employ a janitor for security reasons,” Keppner explained, smiling. “Fanning makes an excellent assistant but a poor sweeper.”
Rick and Scotty were assigned to a workbench equipped for shaping and drilling metal.
Dr. Keppner put them to work on the blueprint of the chassis, or aluminum base, on which a part of the electronic circuit would be mounted.
“Where does the compressed-air tank go?” Scotty asked, looking at the design.
“There won’t be one.” Dr. Keppner indicated a cone-shaped device. “This is a little development of my own. It’s what might be called an ultrasonic loud-speaker. A speaker, that is, capable of reproducing ultrasonic sounds. The sounds themselves will be created electronically.”
“How can you make sounds with electronics?” Scotty objected.
Rick knew the answer to that one. “Ever hear of aHammond electric organ or
aNovachord ? They play music created by electronic tubes.”
“Quite right,” Dr. Keppner agreed.
The boys found sheet aluminum and went to work as Dr. Keppner and Hartson Brant
joined the draftsman and began a long discussion over the drawing board.
It was an easy job. Rick’s hands worked mechanically while his thoughts were busy on other things. None of them had talked much about Weiss and Zircon, but the mystery of their disappearance was on every mind. The thought that they might have been harmed made the job of tracking down the enemy and creating a counterweapon a personal thing. If anything had happened to the scientists, the otherSpindrifters would see that they were amply revenged.
But revenge was useless, Rick thought. What he wanted was to see Weiss and Zircon alive and well.
“I wonder if Steve Ames is making any progress?” he inquired aloud.
Scotty shrugged.“Probably not much.Hell have to have a whole lot of luck. When people just vanish like that, it isn’t easy to find them again.”
“I wish we could do something,” Rick said grimly.
“So doI .” Scotty was bending a strip of aluminum into shape. He gave it a vicious twist. “But if Steve Ames and all of JANIG can’t find them, what could we do?”
“Nothing,” Rick answered morosely. He concentrated on the work before him.
When Hartson Brant came to the bench, Rick and Scotty had completed the chassis, except for the drilling of the tube socket holes, and that couldn’t be done until the circuit-wiring diagrams were completed.
“Good work,” Hartson Brant said. “Well, the afternoon is over, so far as you two are concerned.”
Rick glanced at his wrist watch. It was onlyhalf past four . “Isn’t there anything else we can do?”
“Not until tomorrow, I’m afraid. Keppner and I are working on the circuits, but there is still a great deal of calculating to do. We’ll keep on this evening. Besides, Dr. Bertona may arrive and we’ll have to brief him on the problem. Can you two amuse yourselves?”
“I guess so.” Rick tidied up the bench with Scotty’s aid and saw that all the tools were put away.
Fanning, the helper, came over to give them a hand. He examined the chassis they had
been working on. “Neat job,” he complimented them.
Rick and Scotty thanked Fanning, then walked with him to the front of the lab where Dr. Keppner, Hartson Brant, and Terhune were bent over the drawing board.
Fanning looked at the intricate lines on the board. “Looks like the wiring diagram for a Christmas tree. Does it make sense?”
“We hope it makes some kind of sense.” Hartson Brant smiled. He addressed Rick and Scotty. “I’ll get a bite to eat at the drugstore next door. Don’t plan on my coming home early. We may be here until late.”
“We’ll get some exercise,” Scotty said. “We need it.”
“Good idea,” Dr. Keppner approved. “Why not walk around and see the sights? If you haven’t seen the Lincoln Memorial, I’d recommend that. To my mind, it’s the most impressive thing inWashington .”
“I’d like to see it,” Rick said. “I’ve seen it before, but so long ago that I can’t remember.”
“It’s one thing people don’t get tired of looking at,” Scotty agreed. “We’ll get something to eat, then hike down that way.So long, everybody.”
He and Rick went down the stairs and out into the late afternoon sun. Rick clapped a hand to his head. “I forgot my hat again.”
Scotty grinned. “Never mind it. I can’t get used to seeing you with it on, anyway. I keep thinking I’m with a stranger.”
“Speaking of strangers!”Rick pointed across the street. The second stranger, the one who had been at Spindrift with Steve Ames, was smiling at them from a doorway.
“I wondered when he’d show up,” Scotty remarked.
The stranger came across the street and shook hands, smiling. “Pete Davis is my name,”
he said. “Don’t tell me yours; I know all about you.”
“What are you doing here?” Rick asked before he remembered that he wasn’t to ask questions.
Davishad no hesitation about answering. “I’m head of the guard detail.”
Scotty looked around. “What guard detail?”
“You can’t see the boys, but they’re around. One is on the roof of the building opposite-no, don’t look up. If anyone is watching, we don’t want them tipped off.
Another is on the third floor of this building. Both of them have rifles. And we have a couple of carloads of men spotted around.”
“I don’t know what good guards will do if the whispering box is turned on,” Rick objected.
“Plenty,”Davis assured him. “Far as we can figure, the box is pretty directional, and it won’t work at any great distance. That’s what Dr. Keppner told us. So I spotted my men in all directions. If the gang shows up with the box, they may get a couple of my boys, but while they’re doing it, one of my sharpshooters will pick them off like ducks from another direction. No matter which way they turn, they’ll be covered.”
“If it’s as easy as that, why not just post guards at all the government buildings?” Rick asked.
“We do have extra men on,”Davis said. “But it’s not the answer. To do it properly, you need men at every point of the compass. That takes more guards than the government has. What’s more, it’s human nature to get careless. My own men won’t, but regular guards are apt to. And with this box gadget, one second o
f looking in the wrong direction at the wrong time is plenty.”
“I see what you mean,” Scotty agreed. “Have you heard anything from Steve?”
“He tracked the car that got you kids. It’s at headquarters now, being checked over. It won’t tell us anything, though. It was stolen, naturally. They wouldn’t use one of their own.”
“No sign of Weiss or Zircon?” Rick queried.
Davisshook his head. “Sorry.”
“I didn’t really hope for any news,” Rick said. “Well, we’ll be going. See you later, Mr.
Davis.”
“Right.And don’t worry about Mr. Brant. We’re keeping him so well covered that a mosquito couldn’t get to him without our knowledge.”
“That’s a relief,” Scotty said.“How about us?”
“You’re on your own. We’re not worried about you. The gang isn’t interested in anyone but the scientists.”
Rick rubbed his sore nose ruefully. “Wish you’d tell the guy with the whispering box that.”
Davischuckled. “Doesn’t it make sense? I’m surprised at you. I thought sure you’d figured out why they went after you yesterday.”
“They wanted us for souvenirs,” Scotty said.
“Don’t flatter yourself,sarge ,”Davis said, grinning. “They were after Hartson Brant. It just happened that they didn’t know his son was a ringer for him.”
Rick’s jaw dropped. “So that was it! Sure! Scotty, remember how you said I looked like Dad with that hat on?”
“That’s right,” Scotty agreed. “But why were they waiting at our hotel?”
“It’s Mr. Brant’s hotel, too,”Davis reminded them. “They must have thought he’d check in before going to the lab. He crossed them up by coming directly to Dr. Keppner.
Meanwhile, you two came out of the hotel and walked right into their arms.”
“Then they know about the hotel,” Rick said soberly.“And about the lab, too.”
“They know plenty.”Davis sounded grim. “I’d like to know their source of information.
We’re keeping an eye on every man connected with this job. I’m getting so I don’t even trust myself.” Suddenly he smiled again. “But that’s not your worry. Go along and have a good time. There’s plenty to see inWashington .”
The boys said good-by and walked down the street towardLafayette Square .
“So they thought they were getting Dad,” Rick said. “I couldn’t figure out what they wanted with us.”
“It makes sense. Anyway, I’m glad the hotel clerk was on the ball. Otherwise we’d be with Weiss and Zircon, wherever they are.”
“I wish I knew where that was.”
“So doI ,” Scotty said gruffly. “But wishing isn’t going to help. We can’t do anything except hope.”
CHAPTER IX
The Menace at the Memorial
Scotty took a last sip of water and pushed back his chair. “Now I feel better,” he said.
“That was a good meal.”
Rick was comfortably full, too, after a dinner of barbecued spareribs, salad, and pie.
“Now what do we do?” he asked. “It’s almosteight o’clock .”
The time had flown since they left the laboratory. They had started in the general direction of the Lincoln Memorial, but had been sidetracked. The squirrels and pigeons inLafayettePark had taken over an hour of their time, particularly the squirrels. The little animals, probably the best fed of their kind, had made begging for peanuts a science.
The boys, like most other visitors to the park opposite the White House, had purchased peanuts to feed to the fat little beggars.
Tiring of the squirrels, they had walked toNew York Avenueand Fourteenth Street and on impulse had gone into the newsreel theater to see a one-hour show of news, cartoons, and sports features.
Now, Rick and Scotty left the restaurant and paused on the sidewalk to consider their next move. A phone call to the hotel had informed them that they were not wanted for anything.
“We can still go to the Lincoln Memorial,” Scotty said.
“That’s okay with me.”
They were silent as they walked downTwentieth Street toConstitution Avenue . Rick’s thoughts were busy on the problem of Weiss and Zircon. He had tried to convince himself that the scientists were probably safe, but he had to admit there were no grounds for such optimism. The only thing hopeful in the situation was that the gang, so far as was known, had yet to commit murder.
“Anyway,” Scotty said aloud, “they wouldn’t have anything to gain by getting rid of
Weiss and Zircon.”
“You’ve been reading my mind,” Rick accused. “How did you know what I was
thinking?”
Scotty smiled. “I didn’t, but I’m not surprised. I guess they’ve been on both our minds.”
“They’ll turn up one of these days,” Rick said with more confidence than he felt.
“Sure. They’re all right. Both of them have been in tougher spots than this.”
They had reachedConstitution Avenue . Across the street was the old Navy Department Building, and next to it the beginning of the park grounds surrounding the Lincoln Memorial.
“It will be dark pretty soon,” Rick remarked. “Doesn’t the memorial close?”
“Not untilnine o’clock . Besides, night is the best time to see old Abe. The way they’ve arranged the lights makes you think he’s going to get right out of his chair and come down and speak to you.”
Scotty turned up Constitution and they walked past the Federal Reserve Building, then the National Academy of Science Building that had been turned into a clearing house for scientific information.
Rick had read about the new government scientific information center and what the building contained. In its files were documents from scientific authorities all over the world. If a researcher wanted to know what work had already been accomplished in his particular field, they could tell him. He wished he could have a chance to go through the files. Perhaps it could be arranged before they leftWashington .
“We cross here,” Scotty said.
As they waited for the light to change, Rick looked up a small hill on their side of the avenue. Inside a high wall were what appeared to be barracks. He asked Scotty about them.
“There’s a naval hospital a little farther up,” Scotty explained. “Those particular buildings are barracks. There’s a Marine guard detachment there.”
They crossed Constitution as the light turned green, then hiked through the park toward the Lincoln Memorial. It was already growing dark as they reached the edge of the
reflecting pool in front of the building.
Rick looked up to the memorial, through the great marble columns to where Abe
Lincoln sat illumined in light and shadow. He started across the roadway to the marble stairs, then stopped, seeing that Scotty lingered behind.
“What’s up?” he asked as Scotty joined him.
“I’m not sure, but I think we’ve picked up a tail.”
“A tail?”
“Yes. I think someone is following us.”
Rick stared into the trees. “I don’t see anyone.”
“Neither doI , now. But I have a hunch we’ve been followed ever since we left the restaurant. I got a quick look at a man a couple of times, but I thought it was just another guy out for an evening stroll until we crossed Constitution. Then he camehotfooting it after us.”
Rick frowned. “Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t want to swear to it, but I’m pretty sure. Let’s cross over and go up to the memorial. And keep your eyes open.”
Rick agreed, more than a little perturbed. What had Pete Davis said about their having nothing to fear?
“Maybe it’s one of Steve’s men keeping an eye on us.”
“Not a chance,” Scotty denied. “Steve’s men aren’t the kind who’d let themselves be seen.”
They crossed and mounted the long steps of the memorial. It was growing dark ra
pidly, but people thronged the stairs. Abe Lincoln was easily the most popular of all theWashington memorials.
As Rick went up the long climb he forgot for a moment that he was supposed to be watching for a pursuer. The huge statue ofLincoln , seated in a massive chair, was in such perfect proportion that it seemed almost normal size. The wonderfully arranged lights gave the illusion of reality. Every detail was perfection, even to the veins in the
great hands, the folds ofLincoln ’s clothing.
Rick drew in his breath. Always imaginative, he felt as though the Great Emancipator were about to rise and speak.
Scotty shattered the illusion. “Keep an eye open. I wish it weren’t quite so dark.”
They reached the top level of the memorial and turned, looking down the stairs to the road. Rick searched the edge of the trees along the roadway beyond the reflecting pool.
For an instant the head lamps of a passing car picked out a figure.
He grabbed Scotty’s arm. “Is that the man?”
“That’s the joker. I wish we could get a look at his face.”
Rick spotted a soldier just coming up the steps, a pair of field glasses slung over his shoulder. “Maybe we can,” he said.
Scotty saw the soldier, too. “Wait,” he cautioned. “Don’t be obvious about it.”
“We’ll wait until he gets inside, then ask him if we can use the glasses for a minute,”
Rick agreed. “If we look from the shadow of a pillar, maybe our friend down there won’t know we’re onto him.”
They retreated into the shadow of the pillars and waited until the soldier reached them.
Rick smiled at him. “I see you have a pair of glasses. Would you mind if we took a look through them for just a minute? There’s something we’d like to check on.”
The soldier hesitated for a moment.
Scotty motioned to the patch on his shoulder. “How’s the old Twenty-seventh
Division?”
The soldier grinned.“About as usual. Were you in it?”
“Second Marines,” Scotty said. “But I knew a lot of guys in your outfit.”
The soldierunslung the glasses. “Most of them are civilians now. Here, take a look while I pay my respects to Honest Abe.”
