"I implore you to pay no attention to the man on top of the monument," said the Mayor. "Your able chief of police, Harold Putney, and the fire department, I am sure, will manage to get him down safely."
"If they come near me I'll jump!" said the mannequin.
The Mayor flapped his cheeks in and out again.
"Pay no attention to that unfortunate man up there,". he said. "He needs all the help and understanding we can give him."
"I don't need help, but you do!" said the mannequin.
By this time Henry and I were laughing so hard Mortimer could hardly keep his face straight. He had to shut off the transmitter until we calmed down. The crowd was milling around Mayor Scragg's car, making suggestions about how to get the nut down off the monument. A bunch of kids were standing on the bleachers at the edge of the crowd yelling for him to jump.
"When'll we let him go?" I asked.
"Pretty quick now. Then we'll turn the show back to his Honor," said Henry.
He switched on the ham outfit. "We'd better see if we can reach Jeff and the others."
Jeff and Dinky and Freddy Muldoon were supposed to be somewhere out west of Strawberry Lake. When Henry reached them, they were sitting on a hilltop where they could see the Town Hall and the Square through binoculars. Henry checked the wind direction from the weather vane on top of Town Hall and suggested to Jeff that they move to another hill a little farther south. This was important to our plan.
We looked out on the Square again, and the crowd was still milling about, pointing up at the dummy and hollering to him. He just stood there with his hands on his hips, the way we had placed him, leaning slightly against the barrel of Hannah Kimball's blunderbuss.
Then we heard the wail of a siren and the clang of a bell as the Mammoth Falls fire department's hook and ladder nosed its way through the crowd. Mayor Scragg stepped down out of the automobile and directed operations with his hat as he waved the hook and ladder into position.
They maneuvered the huge truck close to the monument and extended the ladder up its side. Mayor Scragg stood up in the cab of the fire engine and shouted to the mannequin.
"And now, sir, will you please come down from there?"
"Will you promise not to bite me?"
The crowd roared again. Mayor Scragg flushed red and harrumphed.
"See here, young man. I'm not in a habit of biting people. Just come down the ladder and no one will hurt you."
"I don't climb ladders. I'm an eagle!" said the mannequin.
Mayor Scragg harrumphed again and tried to quiet the crowd.
"Do you want to see me fly?" cried the mannequin. At this point Mortimer let out with a hyena yell and shouted "Geronimo!" at the top of his lungs.
"No! No!" screamed the Mayor. "Wait a minute!"
The Mayor turned and looked at the Founders Day Committee, and the committee turned and looked at Chief Putney, and Chief Putney turned and looked at Constable Billy Dahr. Constable Dahr had a mustache that drooped over the corners of his mouth. He always wore a coat that hung down to his knees and carried a billy club clasped behind him that he'd waggle back and forth like a tail. When he found everybody looking at him he waggled the billy club faster than ever and looked behind him as if he was trying to see who the chief was looking at.
"Constable Dahr will go up and get the man," said Chief Putney.
"Just the man to do it, Mr. Putney," agreed the Mayor. And the committee nodded approval.
Billy Dahr pretended he couldn't hear what was being said to him. But finally he started to scale the ladder with great care and caution. He ascended three steps and paused there, brandishing his club.
"Now, you come down here, young man!" he said.
"If you come up here I'll pull your mustache with both hands," the mannequin shouted.
The crowd roared with laughter. Mayor Scragg was furious. He started poking Constable Dahr in the seat of the pants with his umbrella.
"Get on up there, Constable! Get on up there!"
"It's no use, Mr. Mayor," Billy Dahr complained. "I get dizzy from vertigo in high places."
"Oh, for heaven's sakes," said the Mayor.
By this time the fire chief had arrived on the scene and was conferring with Chief Putney. Chief Putney went over and said something to the Mayor that we couldn't hear, and the Mayor nodded. The next thing we knew, four groups of firemen were breaking out jumping nets. They stretched them out on all sides of the monument, with volunteers from the crowd helping to hold them. Two firemen started up the ladder, a third one following them with a straitjacket. Chief Putney and Constable Dahr were moving people back, clear of the monument.
"Hurry up, Mortimer," said Henry, "or we'll be in the soup."
Mortimer flicked on his mike. "Get back down that ladder!" he hollered. "If you come near me I'll jump!"
The firemen stopped. Mayor Scragg fumed.
"Get on up there, men!" said the fire chief. "If he jumps, we'll catch him in one of the nets."
"Who's going to catch them?" asked the mannequin.
The firemen stopped again. Finally, under the urging of their chief, they proceeded cautiously toward the top of the ladder, gently coaxing the mannequin to give himself up quietly.
When the lead fireman was three or four rungs from the top, Mortimer cut loose with a final "Geronimo!" and Henry flipped a switch on the transmitter that was tuned to the second receiver hidden inside the dummy. There was a sharp explosion like the pop of a medium-sized Fourth of July firecracker, and a package shot out from the back of the dummy. It fell about halfway down the side of the monument and dangled there for a moment at the end of a bundle of stout cords. Then, slowly, it expanded into the shape of a balloon and, growing ever larger, began to rise slowly upward.
The stunned firemen stood stock-still on the ladder. A hush fell over the crowd. Then an incredulous roar burst from it as the balloon swelled to huge proportions and soared upward on a gust of wind. It lifted the dummy clear of the monument, while cries of "I'm an eagle! I'm an eagle!" issued from its throat. It gained altitude rapidly and went careening off across the Town Square, heading toward the lake.
Henry and Mortimer and I were jumping up and down at the windows of the loft, slapping each other on the back and laughing till our sides ached. The stunt had worked perfectly, and Henry's wizardry had paid off for us again. The surplus weather balloon we had strapped to the dummy's back had been inflated by a capsule of compressed helium. Henry had rigged the firing mechanism from a CO2 pistol so that it punctured the capsule with a small firing pin when the radio signal from our transmitter fired the charge that propelled the balloon out of its package.
Out on the Square, confusion reigned. The crowd had started to break up at the fringes as people ran pell-mell down side streets, trying to keep the intrepid balloonist in sight.
"Get on the air, Mortimer," Henry commanded. "We've got to keep in touch with Jeff if we don't want to lose half our radio gear."
Mortimer flipped on our outfit to get through to Jeff, and Henry started monitoring the police and emergency bands to see what information he could pick up. With binoculars and a compass I kept an eye on our flying mannequin. He was flying pretty high now, and was being blown out across Strawberry Lake just about the way we had figured.
Homer Snodgrass reported up from the Square that Mayor Scragg was in a real tizzy. He had ordered the civil defense units into full alert, and had told Chief Putney to notify the Air Force at Westport Field what had happened.
Henry picked up Chief Putney's transmission to Westport Field. He requested two helicopters to track the balloonist until he came down, so they could see that he got into the proper institution. The operator at Westport Field wouldn't believe him at first, but promised to relay the information to Colonel March, the base commander, anyway. Two minutes later we monitored a transmission from Westport Field on the emergency band. Colonel March was notifying all the stations in his net.
"Unidentified flying man sig
hted proceeding west out of Mammoth Falls. Sightings reported by police department, Mammoth Falls, and one airline pilot. Exact heading and altitude unknown. Destination unknown. No flight plan filed at this facility nor at local airport. Request reports of further sightings. Please stand by. Over and out."
We practically went through the roof of Mr. Snodgrass' loft when we heard this. Henry was in a sweat.
"We've got to work fast," he said. "I hope Colonel March doesn't find out we're behind this. He'll raise holy Ned with us."
One minute later Henry was sweating even more. Westport Field announced to all the stations in its net that it was scrambling two search craft and a helicopter team to see if it could confirm sightings of the unidentified flying man.
"Can you get a reading on the dummy?" Henry cried.
The dummy was silhouetted against a good cloud background right at that point. I took a sighting with my compass.
"Looks like two hundred and sixty-five degrees," I told Henry. "As far as I can tell, that's the direction he's drifting, and he's just about reached the lake."
"Good," said Henry. "We shall still have time."
He drew a line quickly on the map he had with him, and then grabbed for the hand set of the citizens' band transceiver.
"Grand Vizier to High Mogul!"
"Come in, Grand Vizier. This is High Mogul."
"Jeff! You'll have to get back to the hill where you were before. I figure you've got about six minutes. The dummy's coming in on a heading of two hundred and sixty-five degrees. That's eighty-five degrees from where you'll be. Let me know as soon as you sight him. And let me know as soon as he's overhead, so I can push the button."
"You're making it rough on us, Henry. Over and out."
Out on the Square we could hear the wail of sirens. Every ambulance in town seemed to be moving out on the road toward Strawberry Lake. Other cars were following, and still more were taking the road north of the lake in case the dummy drifted that way. Mayor Scragg was still standing near the monument, directing operations and waving his umbrella at all and sundry. The Founders Day ceremonies were completely forgotten.
"You've got to hand it to Mayor Scragg," said Mortimer. "He's got this town moving."
"That's going to make it rough on us," said Henry. "I didn't think he'd get things organized so fast."
Jeff's voice came over the receiver. "High Mogul to Grand Vizier! Come in! Come in!"
"This is Grand Vizier. Go ahead!"
"We're back on the other hill."
"Can you see the dummy?"
"Yes! He's getting close to this side of the lake. He's coming right toward us, but we're going to have to move down the hill to our right a bit. Don't cut it loose till I give you the signal."
"O.K.! We're standing by."
"This is going to be a near thing," Henry said. "Those search planes from Westport Field should be getting out over the lake soon. If the helicopters get in close enough to see what we're doing, it may spoil our whole plan."
"Let's not get Colonel March mad at us," said Mortimer. "He's done us a lot of favors."
"That's just what I'm worried about!" said Henry.
The Town Square was completely deserted now. Even Mayor Scragg had left to join the search parties that were hoping to track the balloonist to a landing somewhere in the wooded hills west of Strawberry Lake. I kept my binoculars frozen on the figure of the dummy and fed Henry information on his course and position.
Two search planes were already circling high above the dummy. Off to the north I could see the two helicopters from Westport Field churning their way south. In three or four minutes they would be at the other side of the lake.
"Better hurry," I said to Henry. "The choppers are closing in fast."
Just then Jeff's voice came over the receiver.
"He's just a little way from us now, Henry. You can drop him any time."
"O.K.," said Henry. "But keep under cover of the trees and work fast. There are two planes overhead right now, and there'll be two choppers on top of you in no time!"
Henry flipped a switch on our big transmitter and then ran to join me at the window. We saw the balloon jerk violently and begin to collapse. The charge Henry had wired to a second receiver inside it had blown a small hole in its side. The dummy sank rapidly toward the earth as the balloon folded in on itself. We lost sight of it in the trees.
What happened from then on we knew only through Jeff's radio reports. The dummy came swinging down faster than we had expected it would. Jeff and Freddy and Dinky watched it careening dizzily toward the side of the hill they were on, and hoped it would land in a soft place so the radio parts inside it wouldn't be smashed to bits. They scrambled down the hill in time to see it crash through a bushy maple. The balloon snagged itself in the branches, and the dummy jerked up short on the end of its shrouds, dangling twenty feet from the ground.
"Get up there and cut the balloon loose. We've got to get it out of sight!" Jeff shouted, as he boosted Dinky up the tree.
Little Dinky skinned up the maple like a wildcat. He was quick as a fox and skinny enough to worm his way through the tightest places. In a few seconds he had cut the balloon free with his Scout knife and Freddy and Jeff caught the dummy in their arms. Dinky was down out of the tree like a monkey, and the three of them took off through the woods for the cave where they had hidden their bicycles.
The cave was an unfinished shaft that had been abandoned when they stopped working the old zinc mine in that area. It's overgrown with bushes now, but a spur track leads from it to an old crusher; and from there a rusty, abandoned rail line runs due north to where it joins up with the main line just outside of Hyattsville.
When the dummy emerged from the cave, he was wearing the uniform of an Explorer Scout, just like the rest of the boys. He was lashed to the baggage rack of Jeff's bicycle, with his arms tied tight around Jeff's waist. With knapsacks and fishing rods to complete the ensemble, the whole group looked as though they were just returning from an overnight camping trip. They pedaled down the abandoned rail line, Jeff in the lead.
As they turned onto Turkey Hill Road, which leads back to town along the north shore of the lake, they began to pass some of the convoy vehicles that had brought search parties out to the scene. The antiquated touring car that had carried Mayor Scragg in the parade came charging around a bend.
"Get those bikes off the road, boys!" the Mayor shouted. "This is an emergency."
"Yes, sir," said Dinky. "We're getting back to town as fast as fast as we can." And he kept right on pedaling.
"Have you seen a man in blue overalls anywhere around here?" the Mayor shouted at Freddy Muldoon.
Freddy shouted back over his shoulder, "We haven't seen a living soul." And that was no lie.
A quarter of a mile farther down the road a blue Air Force sedan braked to a lurching stop. The driver put it in reverse and backed up fast. Colonel March's head popped out of the rear window.
"Hello, boys!" The Colonel was smiling.
Jeff kinda waved at him, with a grin that looked as if he was sick to his stomach, and kept right on pedaling. Dinky Poore, whose legs aren't long enough for him to sit on his seat, almost fell off his bike trying to give the Colonel a big salute as he chugged on past. But the Colonel reached out and stopped Freddy Muldoon.
"Who's the big boy riding with Jeff?" he asked.
"Oh, him? . . . Oh, he's a friend of ours," said Freddy "I think he's staying with Henry Mulligan."
"That's nice," said the Colonel. "Where's he from?"
"Henry lives right here in Mammoth Falls."
"I know that," said the Colonel. "I mean the new boy."
"Oh, him? . . . I don't know," said Freddy, "I think he's from Canada.... Maybe England. I don't think you'd wanna meet him, Colonel."
"Oh, I see. He seems like a pretty big fellow. I just wondered why he didn't have a bike of his own, that's all."
"He's sick!" said Freddy. "Well . . . I mean . . . well, Colonel,
you gotta realize, in some foreign countries people don't have very much money."
"Oh yes! I understand that's the case," said the Colonel. "Well, he seemed like a very nice young man. I just thought I'd like to meet him sometime."
"Oh, he is a very nice fellow," said Freddy. "He's not the least bit nosy, either!"
"I see what you mean," said the Colonel. "Well, good-bye, Freddy. Nice talking to you."
"Good-bye, Colonel!"
And Freddy took off like a jet to catch up with Dinky and Jeff.
Back in the loft over Mr. Snodgrass' hardware store, the rest of us had not been idle. The Town Square was completely deserted, except for Constable Billy Dahr, who had fallen asleep in the sun on the Town Hall steps. As soon as the coast was clear, Homer Snodgrass had shinnied up one of the telephone poles again and looped a length of piano wire over the topmost foot spike. The other end of the loop ran through a pulley we'd nailed fast to the wall of the loft.
When Jeff and Dinky and Freddy got back with the Flying Man, we pulled all our radio gear out of him and put him back into his blue overalls. Then we hooked him onto the piano wire with a guide-line attached. We pushed him out through the window and gave him a breeches buoy ride back out to the monument. It was easy to lower him by his own weight back into the cradle formed by Hannah Kimball's arms. Then we just cut the piano wire so it dangled free, and pulled the loose end in through the window.
We had barely gotten the piano wire back inside, and closed the loft window, when we saw Billy Dahr yawn and stretch himself on the Town Hall steps. All of a sudden he catapulted his creaky frame into the middle of the street and stood there gaping at the monument, his billy club in one hand and his false teeth in the other. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands and looked again. He looked all around the Town Square to make sure no one was there. Then he took off and high-tailed it down the street to the firehouse at the corner.
A half-hour later the Square was full of people again. Mayor Scragg's deep-breathing touring car pulled up in front of the monument, and shortly afterward the hook-and-ladder rig arrived. The firemen lost no time in cranking the ladder up the side of the marble shaft again, and two of them dashed up it pell-mell with the straitjacket. This time there was not a word from the man on the monument. He seemed to have lost his voice.
Mad Scientists' Club Page 8