by John Blaine
“Thanks, soldier.” Rick took the glasses, then stepped
tothe shadow of a pillar from which he could see the edge of the trees across the road.
Scotty was at his shoulder.
Rick focused the glasses quickly, but he could see only the vague figure of the man.
“Let me look,” Scotty begged.
Rick gave him the glasses. “You can’t see much.”
Scotty pointed the binoculars and studied the scene below for long minutes, then he lowered the glasses.
“If a car would only come by and turn up the right-hand road, we could get a good look.”
Rick saw that the soldier was a few yards away, looking up at the statue. “I guess he doesn’t want the glasses for a few moments,” he said. “Hang on until a car passes.”
One of the park police officers who guardWashington public buildings had been
watching. He sauntered over, curious about what they were looking at.
“See anything through those?” he asked.
“Not much,” Scotty answered. “We’re waiting for a car to pass. There’s a man down there we want to look at.”
“What for?”
“We think he’s following us,” Rick said.
“Following you? What would anyone want to follow you for?”
Rick looked at Scotty. They couldn’t very well go into details. Steve Ames had cautioned them not to talk to anyone. Presumably that included police officers.
“We don’t know why he’s following us,” Rick said. That was true, anyway.
“Are you sure he is?”
“No,” Scotty admitted.
The officer snorted.“Sounds to me like you kids have been seeing too many movies.”
He turned and walked back to the other side of the monument.
“No help there,” Rick said. “Hey, Scotty, here comes a car. See if he makes a right-hand turn.”
Scotty already had the glasses to his eyes.
Rick watched as the car swung slowly toward the right road. The headlight beams moved across the pavement and picked out the dim figure at the edge of the trees.
“Holy smoke!”Scotty exclaimed.
“What is it?” Rick demanded.
Scotty put down the glasses. He handed them to Rick, a strange expression on his face.
“I don’t want to say anything until I’m sure. You’d better take a look.”
Rick accepted the glasses, then kept watch for the next auto to come their way. He searched Scotty’s face. His pal looked grim. “What is it?” he asked again.
“I’d rather not say,” Scotty evaded. “I don’t want to influence your judgment. You decide for yourself.”
“Okay.”
Cars were coming their way around the Lincoln Memorial.If only one made the correct turn . . . one neared, swung right. Rick raised the glasses as headlights speared the figure at the edge of the trees.
Rick saw the man’s face clearly. He felt a swift sensation as though someone had kicked him in the stomach.
“You’re right, Scotty,” he said huskily.
What had Pete Davis said?
“Were not worried about you.The gang isn’t interested in anyone but the scientists.”
The man at the edge of the trees was the driver of the kidnap sedan, and he was holding what appeared to be a camera-but wasn’t.
The whispering box!
CHAPTER X
Rescue from the Sky!
The soldier joined them and asked, “Through with the glasses?”
Rick handed them to him. “Yes. Thanks very much.”
“That’s okay. See what you wanted to see?”
Scotty grinned wryly. “We saw what we didn’t want to see.”
That didn’t make sense to the soldier. He slung the glasses over his shoulder by their strap, gave them a puzzled smile, and said, “Well, see you later.”
“Thanks again,” Scotty said. As the soldier left, he drew Rick deeper into the shadow of the pillar. “Got any suggestions, pal?”
“I don’t know,” Rick said. “Is he after us? Or is he just keeping track of us?”
“Search me. If I had to make any bets, I’d say he wanted us for his specimen
collection.”
“He can’t do it single handed.”
“How do we know he’s alone?” Scotty gestured at the cars parked in the area. “His friend is probably in one of those, waiting for him to put the freeze on us with his little box.”
Rick agreed that it was likely. “Then all we have to do is keep away from any roads where there isn’t much traffic.”
“You make it sound so simple!” Scotty peered out from the shadows. “He’s still there.
And if we do cross the park area, what’s to prevent him from just picking us off, then motioning for his friend to come help him lug the bodies away?”
“Nothing,” Rick admitted. “But what if people see what’s happening and try to
interfere?”
Scotty made a short, high, whispering noise.“Zip!and the people would lose interest in a hurry.On account of why?”
“On account of he could knock them over with the whispering box,” Rick finished grimly. He looked over to where the two park policemen were talking. “They wouldn’t be much help.”
“Not much. Before they could even reach for their guns they’d be flat on their faces wondering what had hit them.”
Rick shivered. “Then what can we do?”
“I don’t know,” Scotty said.
Rick leaned against the marble column and felt the chill of the stone through his coat.
“If we could outrun the box, we’d be all right. Pete Davis said it only worked at a limited distance.”
“That’s one answer,” Scotty agreed. He had been keeping watch on the man with the whispering box. Now he gripped Rick’s arm. “He’s coming around to the front of the monument. Probably wondering why we’re spending so much time up here.”
Rick thought rapidly. Between the row of columns and the building itself was a corridor that went completely around the memorial. He asked, “Are there steps in the back?”
Scotty tried to remember. “No. I’m sure there aren’t. But it isn’t a very high drop. We could make it.”
“Then let’s get going.”
Hugging the columns, Rick led the way around the building, going toward the side away from their pursuer. They passed the policemen. The one who had spoken to them grinned and waved. Rick grinned back, a little stiffly.
They reached the corner of the building and turned down the side facing thePotomac River . Then Rick increased his speed. In a moment they were at the back of the memorial. He looked out toMemorialBridge , trying to estimate their situation. Under them, the road curved all the way around the building. Directly ahead was the river. To their left was the bridge. On the right were park areas, thinly dotted with trees along the edges and with baseball diamonds in their centers. There wasn’t much cover.
“Where now?”Scotty asked. “Let’s make it fast.”
Rick noticed thatRiverside Drive , the road along the riverbank, ran under the approach toMemorialBridge . The bank dropped sharply away in several places. If they could reach the underpass, they might be able to conceal themselves.
“Here we go,” he said, and dropped to his hands and knees, swung by his hands, and let go. He landed in a bush that drove thorns into him, but he didn’t stop to investigate.
With Scotty close behind him he made a dash across the road, heading for the parking area next to the bridge approach.
A horn sounded, three sharp blasts, then three more.
A car parked at the side of the road coughed into life. Rick stopped short. It must be the gang car. It had signaled!
“It’s between us and the river!” Scotty exclaimed. “Come on, double back!”
Rick ran, heading back toward the front of the memorial, angling away from the river.
As he sprinted, he kept an eye on the p
oint where the man on foot would probably emerge. There was no sign of him.
“Keep going,” Scotty urged. They had crossed the road and were running parallel toRiverside Drive , heading in the direction of the city.
“Keep away from the trees,” Rick urged. “We’ll make it.”
Scotty threw a glance over his shoulder. “I can’t figure out where the guy with the box went. This is too easy!”
“Step on it,” Rick pleaded. He increased his speed, running easily. Scotty stepped up his pace until their strides matched. They were getting away from the memorial now.
A car shot by onRiverside Drive , swung into the curb and screeched to a stop a short distance ahead.
“To the river,” Rick yelled. He swerved sharply and almost bumped into Scotty. No wonder they hadn’t seen the man with the box! The car had picked him up, then
whipped downRiverside Drive after them! He groaned. There were so many streets around the Lincoln Memorial! A car could follow them almost anywhere.
He looked over his shoulder. The man with the box was out of the car and running, too, in a direction thatWould head them off.
“Double back!” Scotty gasped.
They turned sharply, heading back in the direction from which they had come.
“Right up the road,” Rick said through clenched teeth. “They can’t turn around fast enough to get us until we’re past the memorial. Then we can turn again. We’ll lose them.”
The man with the box had stopped trying to head them off. Instead, he was running towardConstitution Avenue , away from theriverl Rick saw the strategy at once. The man could double around and always manage to stay between them and civilization.
Meanwhile, the car would keep them running. Eventually, they would have to stop from sheer exhaustion. They were trapped in a wedge-shaped area with the Lincoln Memorial as the pointed tip of the wedge and the river as the side opposite the tip. The sides of the wedge were streets. The only escape would be across the bridge- but they could never make it on foot before the car overtook them.
He wondered if the man in the car also had a whispering box and decided that he must have.
The car was turning around, ignoring the one-way-street sign. The gang had nothing to fear with the whispering box in their hands. Let a policeman object and a short blast from the box would take care of him.
The bridge approach loomed ahead. They would pass right under it.
“Get to the other side of the underpass, then we can duck,” Scotty said. “Run, Rick!”
They shot into the darkness of the short underpass, and the car lights were gaining on them. If they turned right, the man with the box would be waiting. If they turned left, the river would block them. But the river was better than the whispering box.
“Go left,” Rick directed. He was worried, because he could feel his breath coming faster. They couldn’t keep running forever.
To the left of the underpass were row after row of seats on terraces leading down to the river. In the river was a barge built like a stage. They had reached the place whereWashington held many of its outdoor concerts.
The car roared through the underpass and skidded to a stop.
Rick turned frantically, looking for a way out. The only way was along the riverbank, going upstream from the concert area. He led the way, leaping right over the low benches. He didn’t know the range of the whispering box, but he was afraid it could reach them. He wanted desperately to look back to see if the driver had gotten out of the car, but he didn’t dare.
They reached the opposite side of the deserted amphitheater in safety, but their situation still wasn’t very much improved. The man with the box was somewhere near by, up on the road to their right. Behind was the car.
Rick risked turning and saw that the driver had got out of the car. He was starting after them, and he had a box in his hand! Why didn’t he use it? The distance was about a hundred yards, not more.
Then the box didn’t operate effectively at that distance! If they could keep a hundred yards away they were safe!
The riverbank was narrowing to a grassy tree belt. Scotty stopped short, digging his heels into the turf.
Rick saw why. The first man with the box had cut across and was waiting for them!
Now they were between two fires. If they could break out halfway between the two men! Rick looked for a way. He thought he saw it. There was another underpass a short distance ahead whereRiverside Drive ran under the beginning ofRock Creek Parkway .
He didn’t remember the names of the streets, of course, but he recognized the
possibilities. If they angled a little to the right, they might be able to reach die underpass before the first man with the box could. It depended on how much faster they could run than he!
Rick sprang for the underpass, running all out, Scotty abreast of him. He could see the man with the box clearly. He saw him angle over to intercept them, running fast. Why didn’t a car come; some strange car that might get between them for a moment?
Rick stifled a gasp. They weren’t going to make it by much-if at all! Behind them he heard a car door slam shut and the clash of shifting gears. He knew that even if they reached the underpass the car would be close on their heels.
He sensed that neither of their pursuers was worried about the outcome. The car was content merely to keep them moving, knowing that their endurance must wear down soon. The man on foot would tire, too, but not before they did because he didn’t have as far to run.
Rick recalled that the driver of the kidnap sedan had been young; he was the one now trying to cut them off at the underpass. They wouldn’t outrun him by much.
The underpass was directly ahead. The man with the box was too close for comfort, and the car was coming!
Rick somehow found more speed in his hard-driving legs. For an instant he pulled away from Scotty, but his pal caught up with long strides. They reached the underpass and shot through it! They had beaten the man with the box!But not by enough.
Rick heard the shrill, high whisper of the box and his stride faltered. The sound ceased.
He could no longer hear the car. But he was still running!
He shot a glance at Scotty and saw his friend weaving unsteadily, but still going ahead.
They passed the edge of the underpass and turned to the right, scrambling up the bank.
Scotty’s lips moved, but Rick couldn’t hear what he was saying.
“What did you say?” he panted . . . and couldn’t hear his own voice!
A field stretched ahead of them. Across the field layConstitution Avenue . If they could reach it, they might be able to get into a building. If only they could rest! Rick’s heart was pounding and his lungs ached. He knew his legs were unsteady and that he lurched as he ran. Why was he able to run at all?
The whispering box had hit them, but from too far away. The high frequency had deafened them and had partially upset their equilibrium. But it hadn’t made them helpless. They could still run at a shambling gait.
Rick turned to see where their pursuers were. He turned too far and his unsteadiness betrayed him. He slipped and fell in the road.
Somehow, Scotty got him to his feet again. Scotty was saying something, but Rick couldn’t hear. He steadied himself and started off again, across the field,They passed through a narrow belt of trees and into the field itself. In the instant of falling he had seen what was happening. The car had shot past, heading for the corner so it could turn down Constitution and cut them off. Theman on foot was right behind them, but not close enough yet to bring the box into full play.
Rick looked back again, but more carefully, and saw him come through the trees. He was running with less speed; Rick guessed that he was tiring.
Constitution Avenue seemed awfully far away. Besides, the car already had passed them. What was the use?
Rick kept his legs going and concentrated on keeping his balance. He thought the deafness was clearing a little. They had got only a mild dose of ul
trasonics this time.
He could see the car clearly now. It turned the corner and started downConstitutionl If he and Scotty separated, it would confuse their pursuers. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? He tried to yell instructions, but he could hear his voice only as a faint, faraway sound. He tugged Scotty’s arm and motioned for him to go to the right. He himself would angle to the left. The car wouldn’t know which one of them to head for, and the man behind them wouldn’t know which one to follow-he hoped!
They were almost across the field! Rick headed for the left, toward the car that was coming down Constitution, but keeping well away from it. There were other cars, of course, but he was interested only in the one with the whispering box. The others couldn’t help him. If anyone interfered, the box would come into play.
He saw the car slow down. He turned and started back the way he had come, feinting to confuse the man in the car. He was between the car and the running man with the box now. The car speeded up again to cut him off. He did an about-face. The car slowed, but it had gone a few feet beyond him! It couldn’t turn around now!
Rick reached the edge of the field. He ran in the opposite direction from which the car was heading. He looked back quickly and saw the man with the box, still coming after him. The car must be after Scotty!
Rick stumbled and almost fell as his ankle turned on a stone. Inspiration hit him. He picked up the stone, gauged the distance, and heaved with all his strength.
The stone arched through the air and landed with a splintering of glass! The car skidded to a stop. Rick saw Scotty follow his example. A well-placed rock landed on the left headlight. It winked out.
Rick hadn’t stopped moving except to pick up the stone. Now he sped across the avenue, angling back toward Scotty, who was also crossing. The man on foot with the whispering box had reached the sidewalk and was just stepping into the street.
Scotty motioned to Rick to join him, not breaking his stride.
They were at the foot ofTwenty-thirdStreet . AcrossConstitution Avenue , the driver of the car had gotten out and joined the chase. Both he and the man with the whispering box were rapidly overtaking them!
Rick could hear clearly again. He heard Scotty’s yell to keep moving. He rounded the corner and ran upTwenty-thirdStreet , noticing that he no longer had trouble keeping his balance. His breath was coming in painful gasps and his vision kept blurring with fatigue.
