by John Blaine
The engine was silent now, and he could hear the muffled conversation of two men, but he couldn’t make out the words. The sound died with the closing of another door and he knew he was alone.
Slowly he raised the compartment door, breathing in fresh air gratefully. He unwound his cramped body and stepped out, poised for instant flight.
He stood on the floor of a large, barnlike structure that had been a factory of some sort. Now the metal beams were rusted and the floor was littered with odds and ends. On both sides of the car, window-studded walls rose to a height of three stories.
He guessed he was in what had once been a loading room between the two wings of the factory. The rest of the plant was behind those windowed walls.
A near-by door attracted him and he went to it, silent in his moccasins. He tried the handle and the door gave easily. He pushed a little, peering through as the door swung open. A long deserted hallway stretched before him. He went down it, passing what had been a large machine shop, with rusted lathe beds still bolted to the floor. Then he was in the midst of deserted offices.
The end of the hallway loomed, with no trace of the men, and he stood there, uncertain. Where had they gone? He tried a near-by door and it gave onto a flight of stairs.
Scotty’s heart hammered heavily as he went up, keeping close to the wall. It was possible to avoid creaks in the old stairs if one kept close to the edge. His marine training had taught him that.
The top of the stairs opened onto another hallway. This time he heard angry voices from a room at the Page 75
end. He hugged the wall, his spine tingling as though ice cubes were forming there. If they saw him . . .
A small room, its door open, attracted him. He slipped into it and looked around. It was empty. There was a small closet. And in one blank wall was a window.
He went to the window silently. It was cut so that tools could be passed through-the room he was in probably had been used as a toolroom. He looked through the window and dodged back, sweat starting out on his forehead. He had looked into an enormous room two stories high, in which four men stood.
They were the men who had been at the old barn.
Looking through the window was risky. He searched and found a series of holes that led into the big room, probably drilled to hold bolts for some since-removed shelving. He applied his eye to one and had a clear view of the four men. They were standing around a table on which the Boston bag lay open, and they were arguing heatedly.
“A rock,” a strident voice was saying, “a crummy rock! What’s the matter with that guy, boss?”
“There has been some mistake. I don’t know how it happened, but I intend to find out.” The commanding voice must be that of Scarface. “And if we have been double-crossed, we will know what to do.”
“I ought to beat his head in,” the first voice growled.
“That would be foolish,” Scarface said. “Don’t forget, we must have his help.”
“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go find out.” That was the bearded man, the one he had heard called Carlos when they were at the barn.
“Yeah. While you find out about this rock deal, boss, I’m gonna get some grub. I don’t like this gettin’
up before breakfast.”
“We will eat,” Scarface said, “after I have made a telephone call to . . .”
Scotty strained his ears to catch the name, but one of the men chose that moment to knock something off the table with a crash.
“What rotten luck!” the boy muttered under his breath. The men were walking to the door now. He hurried to the closet and stepped inside, swinging the door shut.
Footsteps passed down the hallway and he heard the men go down the stairs. In a few moments the car roared into life and backed out onto the gravel road.
Scotty walked out of his hiding place and into the big room. He knew nothing of electronics, but he knew radio gear when he saw it. The place was full of racks containing tubes and intricate wiring, and in one corner was a tall cylinder of gleaming metal.
“The laboratory!” he exulted. “This is it!”
He hurried to the window and looked out through the dirty panes, trying to orient himself. Nothing but woods stretched out below him. On the other side of the building, though, he saw houses, and a few hundred yards away, a church with a red steeple.
Page 76
The next step was to call Rick. His friend would be worried about his absence-if he had found out about it yet, for it was still early.
He left the supposedly abandoned factory and trudged down the road to the settlement beyond. With the discovery of the secret lab, he thought, a lot of questions were on the point of being answered.
CHAPTER XVIII
Captured!
Rick followed Scotty from the field near the red steeple, where he had landed his Cub. They plunged into the woods. As they walked, Scotty outlined the events of the few hours preceding. Soon they were near the road leading to the old factory, and as they reached the road, Rick saw the building.
“No wonder we didn’t spot that from the air,” he remarked. “I never thought of looking so close to town.”
“We’d better work fast,” Scotty advised. “I don’t think they’ll be gone long.”
Rick stopped. “Work fast at what?” he said. “Now that we’ve found the place, what can we do about it?”
Scotty scratched his head. “Gosh, I didn’t think of that. We can’t carry it away, can we?”
“No, all we can do is look around to make sure this is the secret lab, and then notify Dad. Let’s go.”
Scotty led Rick to the factory and then to the room where the four men had been.
Rick looked around with eyes wide open. “Brother, did you find the laboratory all right!” he said. He made a quick inspection of the equipment that littered the room. He stopped at a complicated arrangement of wires and dials. “It’s an exact copy of our control panel at Spindrift.”
“In fact, the whole place looks like a copy of your dad’s lab,” Scotty said. “Only not as clean.”
“It’s fantastic,” Rick said. “But here it is.”
“Look! The rocket itself!” Scotty exclaimed, pointing toward the end of the big laboratory. “Part of it anyway. The rest must be somewhere else. It’s not in this building.”
Rick probed into the interior of the control panel, noting that the wiring was neatly done, evidently by a technician of high training and experience. The separate wires were tied together to form cables and they were tied tight by a series of half hitches. Rick stared at them for a moment, unable to tell why those little loops seemed so familiar to him.
He was still looking at the wiring, lost in thought, when Scotty grabbed his arm in warning.
Page 77
“A car just drove in!” he gasped.
“The gang!” Rick whispered. “Now we’re in for it!”
Scotty’s eyes were racing around the room, looking desperately for a hiding place. “Over here!” he said.
They ran to the rocket cylinder and crouched behind it. “Not very good,” Rick said shakily. “They’ll spot us for sure.”
“I know,” Scotty answered tautly. “But it’s the only thing in the room to hide behind. If we try to leave, we’ll bump right into them.”
They heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Soon three men walked into the room. Rick felt dampness spring out on his forehead.
One of the thugs was saying “How do we know this guy on the island ain’t givin’ us the old double cross?”
“Don’t be stupid!” the bearded man said irritably. “Without us, what good does the tube do him?”
Rick knew that the “him” the men were talking about was the Spindrift Island traitor, and he prayed that they would mention his name.
“Kogan,” the bearded man continued, “we must continue work on the rocket. Get your tools.”
The two boys tensed. They were hiding behind the rocket and the men were going to
work on it.
Scotty nudged him. “Well, get ready,” he said softly.
Rick’s legs flexed and he rose to a half crouch. He didn’t know whether Scotty meant to run or fight-and there wasn’t time to ask. Footsteps advanced toward their hiding place. “Bring your soldering iron,” the bearded man said, his voice almost above them, “we’ll solder the connections to the intermediate stage.*5
A foot scraped only inches from Rick’s head and the sweat rolled in driblets down his chin. They had to discover them, and any second now.
“I have the crystal,” the voice went on. “First we will—“ He stopped, biting off the word.
This was it.
With fist poised, Scotty sprang to his feet and charged. He drove his arm forward, straight at Kogan’s stomach. The man went down and Scotty yelled, “Come on!”
Rick sprinted hard behind his pal, across the room. They bowled over the bearded man and shot straight for the door. But the third man had anticipated the move and was waiting for them.
The thug caught up a piece of pipe and poised it as Scotty ran toward him. Rick caught his breath as he saw the length of pipe arch up, but Scotty feinted with his feet to draw a swing from the man and then, as the pipe swished harmlessly by, floored him with one punch.
Page 78
“Beat it!” he yelled, and headed for the door. But before they had taken two steps, a voice rang out behind them.
“Stop, or I fire!” It was the bearded man. In his hand was an ugly pistol-a Luger. It looked big as the end of a water main as it was shifted from Scotty to Rick.
“That’s better,” the man said calmly. He paused. “So we meet again, young Brant?” The pistol muzzle traveled to Scotty. “And this, I believe, is your rescuer.”
Rick and Scotty said nothing.
“Felsen, get up and search them!”
There was the sound of footsteps behind Rick, then hot breath on his neck as hands patted his clothes, then Scotty’s, searching for weapons.
“They’re clean,” the thug said.
The next order was cold-unemotional. “Get some rope.”
“A pleasure,” said the man named Kogan. “Let me beat their heads in with it!”
“The rope. Quickly,” snapped the bearded man.
The boys watched Kogan walk toward a cabinet and take out the rope. The pistol muzzle still wandered from one to the other.
“How co-operative of you to place yourselves in our hands this way!” the man holding the Luger said.
“Kidnapping was to be our last resort, but you will admit it is an effective way of making your father give up his little experiment, eh?”
Rick pressed his lips together, but did not answer. He knew how right the man was. The other scientists on Spindrift might keep on working, but without Hart-son Brant’s guiding genius, they would most certainly lose out in the race for the Stoneridge grant.
“Do not be afraid,” Carlos said. “It is not in my mind to harm you. When the experiment is concluded, you will be set free. Meanwhile you will make excellent hostages. With Brant worrying about the safety of his precious son, I do not think we need fear the success of the people on the island.”
“When we get out of here,” Scotty threatened, “well have the FBI on your trail so fast it’ll make your head spin!”
Carlos was unperturbed. He glanced up as Kogan approached with the rope. “Nice, tight knots, my dear Kogan,” he said, and stepped back so the man could do his job.
It was senseless to struggle. Rick submitted quietly as his arms and legs were bound. A line was passed between his ankles, and his legs were trussed up and brought close to his wrists behind him. When the trussing was done, he lay on the floor, unable to move without sending waves of pain through his limbs.
Scotty was somewhere behind him. He tried to twist, to see his friend, but a warning foot pressed Page 79
against him. “Relax,” Felsen said.
At an order from Carlos, they were picked up and carried to a corner of the big room. There was a door there that they hadn’t noticed. It was open, revealing a small room, bare of any furniture.
Carlos stood over them. “Don’t attempt to escape,” he snapped. “There will be a guard here every moment,” The door slammed.
The wall was thin. The boys could hear Carlos giving further orders.
“It will not be safe to keep them here. Felsen, you and I will go to the other place and prepare it. Kogan will guard them. We will be back in time to see the boss,” he went on. “He would not like it if they escaped.”
There was a grunt from Kogan, and the boys heard footsteps moving toward the door. It slammed and a few moments later a car started and faded away on the road.
Scotty spoke first. “I can’t move my hands. Can you, Rick?”
Rick tried to flex his arms and legs. They wouldn’t give an inch. “No,” he said. “We’re tied for good.”
He heard Scotty grunting as though fighting his bonds and then there was silence.
“It was my fault,” he said finally.
“It was no one’s fault,” Rick answered. “We were just unlucky. A few more minutes and we would have been in the clear.”
“Well, what do we do now?”
“Got some checkers on you?” Rick asked wryly.
The guard, Kogan, hammered at the door. “Pipe down in there!”
“All right,” Scotty yelled back. “We won’t say a word. We’re mad at each other anyway!”
Rick was amazed at the outburst. Then something touched him from behind, and he realized his friend had yelled to cover the slight noise of his body moving across the floor. Scotty had managed to squirm close.
“Shut up, or I’ll come in and shut you up,” Kogan called.
“I’m shut!” Scotty retorted.
He fell silent. Then Rick was conscious of a tugging at his bonds. Scotty was gnawing at the ropes with his teeth, trying to loosen the knot!
Time stretched on interminably. Rick turned his head but he was unable to see Scotty. Gazing at the ceiling, he noticed the wiring for the lights and decided it had been tacked on as an afterthought. A single bulb hung from a cord in the center of the room.
Page 80
The movement behind him ceased. He squirmed around until he was face to face with Scotty. His friend smiled at him through swollen lips. “Turn back again,” he whispered. “I was just resting.”
Rick obediently turned around again. It was an eternity before Scotty whispered, “Pull hard.” Rick put all his strength into jerking his legs straight and then he felt something give.
“That’s enough,” Scotty whispered.
The guard pounded on the door and Rick gave a startled jerk. At that moment, the rope parted and his hands were free.
“What are you doing in there?” Kogan demanded.
“Thinking!” Scotty yelled. “Do you want us to start talking again?”
“Don’t be a wise guy,” Kogan answered. “Or you’ll wish you hadn’t been.” They heard his chair scrape as he resumed his seat outside the door.
Rick rubbed life into his hands and swiftly unbound his legs. In a moment, Scotty’s bonds fell to the floor and they sat up, grinning at each other.
“Let’s take a look,” Scotty said.
They crawled to the single window on hands and knees. At the sill, they rubbed a space in the pane clear and looked down.
Scotty shook his head. They were two stories up, and the factory was situated on a hill that dropped away sharply under them. It was too far to the ground for a jump.
“That’s that,” Rick whispered.
Scotty nodded.
“There must be some way out.”
Scotty pointed toward the door. “There is,” he said. “If only we could get Kogan to open that door.”
Rick sat down on the floor, rubbing his legs where the rope had cut. Kogan didn’t know they were unbound. If only he would open the door wide enough for them to rush him, it would be two against one.
“He must have a gun,” Scotty said.
“He might not fire,” Rick whispered. “They aren’t out to kill us.”
Scotty grinned mirthlessly. “I don’t want to be the one to find out.”
They had been talking in whispers, but, inadvertently, Rick had raised his voice.
“Quiet in there!” Kogan bellowed.
“Quiet yourself, knucklehead!” Rick retorted.
Page 81
Scotty stared his amazement.
“Try to make him angry,” Rick urged. “He may tell us whether or not he has the gun.”
Scotty raised his voice instantly. “Come in here and untie one hand, muttonhead. I want to see if your skull’s as thick as it looks.”
The guard shouted, “I’ll give you one more chance. Keep quiet, or I’ll come in there and gag you!”
“Come on,” Scotty jeered. “Come on in, Kogan. Aren’t you lonesome out there?”
Rick joined in. “Keep us quiet if you can, Kogan.” He let out a wild yell.
The harsh voice waited until the yell died away. Then it spoke, quietly ominous. “One more yip out of either of you and I blast a couple of slugs through the door.”
The boys’ eyes met.
“Now we know,” Scotty said.
Somewhere far away, a dog barked. Rick stirred restlessly. The dog barked again, a distant sound that came faintly through the closed window. His brows furrowed. That bark . . .
It came again, and he grabbed Scotty’s arm.
Scotty sat up. “What is it?”
“Dismal!”
“Are you sure?”
“I’d know his bark anywhere.”
“Keep your voice down,” Scotty warned. “He couldn’t have tracked us here, could he?”
“Not unless he’s grown wings since this morning.”
The barking was closer now.
“That’s Dismal, all right,” Scotty said. “He’s close, too.”
They fell silent, listening tensely. How had Dismal gotten here? It was too far from the island for a casual run, and it was impossible that he could have tracked either of them.
The barking stopped and they waited for some sound that might indicate that the pup was near.
Suddenly they heard Kogan race across the outer room. His voice lifted hoarsely. “Hey, you! What do you want?”