by John Blaine
“Your hair’s pretty dry, sir, and I have an excellent treatment here. I’d like to give you one. It would make your hair look better, and make it easier to handle.”
Tension swept through Rick as though someone had turned on an electric current. The tension had no focus. It was just that something deep within him had reacted. He stood up and dropped his magazine.
“Dad,” he said hastily, “I just saw Julius go through the lobby.”
“Where did he go?” Hartson Brant demanded. “I didn’t see him,”
“I think he went through the front door,” Rick said. “Better hurry. I’ll try to catch him.”
Outside the barbershop he stopped, to let Scotty catch up with him. “Why should Weiss run out through the front door?” Scotty demanded.
“He didn’t. It was a stall, to get Dad out of there in a hurry.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know,” Rick said slowly. “For some reason, I just didn’t want him to have that dry-hair treatment!”
CHAPTER V
JANIG Runs a Security Check
There wasn’t much evidence on which to base his reaction, Rick admitted. But when he
reacted, he just reacted and that’s all there was to it. Call it a hunch, or call it nonsense.
That’s how it was, and he couldn’t change it.
The barber had practically refused him a dry-hair treatment-and his hair was rather dry.
The same barber had tried to sell a treatment to Hartson Brant -whose hair was not dry at all. And the elevator boy who had carried the scientist down from the fourth floor had winked at the barber.
Even admitting that it added up to no evidence of anything, it bothered him. He had asked Tom Dodd how much JANIG knew about the barber.
Tom admitted that JANIG didn’t know much. After all, he pointed out, it was
impossible to check everyone in an office building of that size, or at least impractical.
Furthermore, it was a cover operation, and any kind of a careful check on people in the building would warn them that something was going on. Tom agreed, however, that it was better to be safe than sorry. JANIG would run a check on the barber, even though Rick’s evidence was no evidence at all.
Rick wasn’t satisfied. He felt he had to talk it over with Steve Ames, and called the agent, who was inJANIG’sNew York office, as soon as he got home.
There was a small switch box next to the telephone in the library. It had only two positions, one marked “normal” and the other not marked at all.
Steve asked, “Who is it?”
“Rick.”
“Throw your switch.”
Rick did so, with no apparent results. “Nothing happened,” he said.
“Nothing audible,” Steve corrected. “I threw mine at the same time. We’re scrambled.
Go ahead, Rick, what is it?”
Rick told him the story. Steve didn’t laugh. He had had experience with Rick’s hunches before.“All right. I’ve already talked with Tom Dodd. He told me the story and I agreed we should run a check. He also reported that Weiss had persuaded Marks to come to Spindrift so the team could work together. I have Dodd planning how to get him out ofWashington .”
“Tom told me why no check had been run on the people in the building,” Rick said
hesitantly. “Honestly, Steve, I thought you always checked on everyone who might have a connection with a case.”
“We do,” Steve said flatly. “But we can’t check on everyone in the city ofWashington .
Consider, Rick. There are several hundred people that work in the building and perhaps as many morewho go there regularly for perfectly legitimate reasons. We couldn’t run a deep check on all of them, and a superficial check wouldn’t mean anything. So we don’t check. Instead, we make sure we know about the people the scientists see regularly, and we give physical protection not only to the scientists but to the floor they work on. We keep a careful check to be sure our phones aren’t tapped, and there’s a scrambler on each line. Of course the moment we get even a slight odor of fish, we run a check. That’s why we’re working on your barber right now. We’re also checking the elevator operator.”
“All right.I was off base, I guess.”
“Not at all.I’d be disappointed if you didn’t ask for explanations.”
There was one other question in Rick’s mind. “How do you know we weren’t followed back to Spindrift?”
Steve chuckled. “You had two cars on your tail. They’d have picked up anyone who tried to follow Tom. What’s more, our men at the airport identified every plane that took off from the vicinity ofWashington for two hours after your departure.”
Rick said sheepishly, “Sorry, Steve.”
“Forget it. I’ll be in touch with you, Rick.”
Steve was right, of course. JANIG was on the job and would plug any loose holes. And once Marks arrived, Spindrift would be the only base the JANIG men had to cover. That would make it simpler. Rick decided he might as well put the matter out of his mind.
Barby, Jan, and Scotty were waiting for him on the front porch.
Scotty asked, “What gives?”
“Steve says to forget it.”
Jan frowned, her pretty face worried. “Barby told me about these odd hunches you sometimes get Aren’t they ever wrong?”
Rick grinned. “I’ll say they are. Don’t worry, Jan. You’re safe here.”
Her dark eyes flashed at him. “I’m not worried about myself. I’m worried about my father.”
Rick apologized. “I didn’t mean that quite the way it sounded. But don’t forget, Jan.
Our father is in this, too. So we’ll worry with you-if there’s any worrying to be done.”
Barby changed the subject. “It’s still early. Why can’t we give Jan another swimming lesson?”
They had started the day before teaching Jan how to use underwater breathing
apparatus. She was an excellent swimmer, almost as good as Barby. But she had never had experience with mask, fins, and snorkel, so lessons in the use of those were required before she could graduate to the aqualungs.
“Let’s go,” Rick said.
In a short time the four had changed to swimming suits and were testing the water off Pirate’s Beach. It was cold, but not unbearable. Once they were accustomed to it, Rick picked up the instructions where he had left off the day before. Jan was using Barby’s mask, snorkel, and fins. They would get her some of her own on the first trip to Whiteside.
Barby had borrowed her father’s equipment. The mask wasn’t a perfect fit, but she was experienced enough not to mind a little leakage. The snorkel was all right, since no fit was involved, but the fins were ludicrous on her small feet. She had stuffed cotton in the toes to make them tight enough to wear, but that made the fins hard to control.
“Follow the leader!” Rick called. “I’ll lead, Jan next, Scotty next, and Barby bring up the rear.”
That was so Scotty would be instantly aware of any trouble Jan got into. Barby could swim as well as either of the boys and needed no watching.
Rick started by going straight out, watching the bottom through his mask. When he got to about the fifteen-foot depth, he bent at the waist and threw his legs upward. He slid smoothly into the water, rolling on his back to watch Jan. She imitated his movements perfectly, and he turned back, satisfied. She was graceful as a seal in the water. It wouldn’t take much to make a first-class diver out of her.
Rick went to the bottom and moved along, doing underwater acrobatics and touching a rock here and there. Then he turned over on his back again and started upward, eyes on
Jan. She followed. He led the way back to the beach.
As the group emerged from the water and lifted their masks, Rick looked at Scotty. His pal nodded. “She’ll do. She followed you like a shadow.”
“Good. All right, Jan. Next step is clearing your mask of water. The principle is easy.
Just remember that gas is lighter
than liquid. Your breath is lighter than the water. So you hold the top of your mask and blow it full of air, which forces the water out the bottom.Watch.”
He demonstrated a few times,then Jan tried it. She caught on easily.
The instruction continued, until at the end of two hours, Rick took all of Jan’s equipment and threw it into twelve feet of water. “Now,” he said calmly, “go after it and put it on in the water. Clear your mask and snorkel, then come back to shore with full gear on and operating. No surfacing to take a breath. Use only the snorkel.”
Jan looked into the water thoughtfully. The moments ticked by. Finally Rick asked,
“What is it?”
The girl smiled. “I’m planning how I’ll do it. If I don’t plan in advance, it will be too late after I’ve started, and I intend to do it right the first time.”
Rick, Barby, and Scotty exclaimed together,
“Good girl!” They laughed, and Rick explained, “That’s what makes a safe diver. Know what you’re going to do before you have to do it.”
Jan filled her lungs and dove. The three swam out over her and watched through their masks. She found the mask, and there was a bad moment when she got it on upside down, but she quickly reversed it, held it to her face, and blew it clear. Only then did she bother with the strap that held it.
Rick watched, pleased. He hadn’t told her it wasn’t necessary to attach the mask before clearing. She put the snorkel mouthpiece in place, but did not bother to attach the rubber strap to her head. Then, working smoothly but without waste of time, she slipped on the fins and flashed to the surface. The snorkel emerged and she blew it clear,then swam to the beach.
“Perfect,” Rick applauded.
“You’re a natural,” Scotty added.
Barby just beamed.
Jan was obviously pleased at their praise, but she was a little shy, too, so she contented herself with smiling her thanks.
“Aqualung instruction tomorrow morning,” Rick said. “Come on. I’ve worked up an appetite.”
That evening Rick began work on the radio circuits, as he had promised Barby. The transmitters would be the easiest part, since he could use the same circuits that had gone into the design of the Tractosaur controls, modified only slightly for use on the highest amateur band. Fortunately, Rick had both an operator’s and station licenses as a radio
“ham,” so Barby’s scheme wouldn’t mean illegal operation.
The girls wandered into the shop where he and Scotty were at work, but there was nothing exciting about the painstaking work of laying out diagrams, so they soon left.
Scotty paused in his work of assembling the parts they would need.“Rick, how about making transceivers instead of simple transmitters?”
“So we can send and receive on the same unit? We can do it, all right.But why?”
“I was just thinking. Quite a few times we’d have been a lot better off if we could talk back and forth at a distance. There’s no reason why these have to be designed just for you and Barby to use in the mind-reading act.”
Scotty was right, of course. He usually was. “We’ll make a pair of transceivers, and a receiver for Barby. Unless you think we ought to build a transceiver into her outfit, too.”
“Would it be much work?”
“Not much. We might as well, I suppose.”
They buckled down to the job. Rick found he couldn’t work long, however. “I’ve still got that guitar-string feeling,” he admitted. “I’m all tight inside.” He didn’t like it, and there was no apparent reason for it. But that didn’t help him to get rid of it.
Scotty knew Rick from long experience. “Wish I could help,” he said, “but I’m stymied.
There’s nothing we can get our teeth into. Those two scientists bother me. I can’t imagine what would put two perfectly sensible and healthy people into a state like Steve describes.”
“Same here.”Rick had thought about it a number of times in the past day, but had reached no conclusion. “But if it’s from natural causes, how did Marks and Miller-I mean Morrison-escape?”
Scotty grinned wryly. “You’re not asking me because you expect an answer.”
“No,” Rick agreed. He said abruptly, “I’ve had it. Let’s hit the hay.”
He might have felt better, or worse, had he been able to tune in on a conversation between Tom Dodd and Steve Ames that was going on at that very moment.
“We’ve had seven men on it ever since this morning,” Tom was saying. “We checked him from here to breakfast, and the record is absolutely negative.Same for the elevator operator. The barber is a wanderer, never stays in one shop for long. He’s hunting another job right now. The machine is his, and it’s the only one of its kind. We sent Mike Malone in for a treatment. He says the machine is good. Apparently it’s nothing but a hood with three massage machines installed on spring mounts, so they fit the head. The barber applies oil,then turns on the machine. It has dials, but they’re fakes. It’s a massage machine, pure and simple, and it passed the health inspection board, so we know it’s not harmful.”
Steve Ames said thoughtfully, “Negative record.Hmm. Well, at least no one has ever caught up with him if he happens to be a wrong one. It doesn’t prove he’s clean.”
“Too true.Any ideas?”
“Just keep an eye on him. He’s innocent until we get some evidence that he may be guilty.Same for the elevator operator. But, for now, we’ll consider you’ve drawn a blank and let it go at that.”
CHAPTER VI
A Calm Precedes a Storm
A crisis had arisen and Rick and Scotty could only stand by helplessly. After all, what could mere males do in such a situation?
Barby decided that Rick and Scotty were to fly over to Whiteside and get diving equipment for Jan, so she could have her own. It was easy to agree on the type of face
mask, snorkel, and fins. But everything bogged down when it came to color.
Rick’s own mask, snorkel, and fins were sea green. Scotty had a green mask, blue snorkel, and black fins. Barby had a white mask, red snorkel, and white fins.
“Look,” Rick said impatiently. “What earthly difference does it make? The principal thing is comfort. If the fins feel good and the mask fits comfortably, that’s it.Color?
What difference does color make to a fish?”
Barby sniffed. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
Jan looked at him coldly and stated that she wouldn’t know what difference color made to a fish, because she was not a fish.
“You swim like one,” Scotty said diplomatically, but didn’t even get a smile in return.
There was only one thing for the boys to do, and that was to make as graceful a retreat as possible. They did so, and sat waiting under a tree in the orchard while raging debate went on between the girls on the porch.
Rick looked over at the laboratory building. His father and the other scientists were hard at work on the project, he supposed. He felt rather left out, because they were too busy to talk with him, and when he went in to look around he could see only stacks of paper covered with equations that he couldn’t begin to understand.
“Wonder when Marks will arrive?” he asked.
Scotty shrugged. “We’ll probably find out when he gets here.”
Dr. Marks had agreed to join the team at Spindrift as soon as he finished running some of the team calculations through the automatic computer at the Bureau of Standards inWashington . Tom Dodd would arrive with him, Steve had reported. Meanwhile, protection for the Spindrift team was under the direction of another of Steve’s men, Joe Blake. Joe and another agent took turns in the laboratory, sleeping and eating there and emerging one at a time for a little exercise.
Nor were Joe and his partner the only protection. In the woods on the mainland, just out of sight of the tidal flat, a group of four Boy Scout leaders were encamped, working on special camping and pioneering qualifications that would enable them to become qualified instructors for their Sco
ut Troops. The Whiteside newspaper had even carried a brief story about the Scout activities. But Jerry Webster, Rick’s friend and newspaper reporter, hadn’t known when he wrote the story that the Scout leaders carried an
astonishing amount of armament for such a peaceful expedition. The JANIG agents, however, had been chosen for the assignment because they really were Scout leaders in their home communities. The story would stand investigation.
Barby and Jan left the porch and walked to where the boys waited.
“We’ve decided,” Barby announced.
The boys applauded politely.
“You see,” she went on, “I’m blond, and Jan is brunette.”
Rick squinted up at the girls. “By golly,” he exclaimed, “that’s right!” He put a hand on his heart. “One with hair filled with captured sunlight, the other with hair like the raven’s wing, filled with the gleams of moonlight.”
Barby threatened him with her foot. “Be serious!”
Rick composed his face in stern lines. “I am.”
“Well,” Barby continued, “we decided that Jan should wear a white suit and white equipment. It will make her dark hair and her tan look very dramatic. But of course I can’t wear white if she does.”
This was beyond Rick. Why they couldn’t wear the same color was outside of his comprehension. “Of course not,” he murmured politely.
“So I’m going with you. We both have to have new bathing suits, a white one for Jan and a dark-blue one for me. And I’m going to give Jan my mask and fins, because they’re white. So I’ll have to get blue equipment for me. And my snorkel is red, and that just won’t do, because . . .”
Scotty held up his hand. “Say no more. I will swap snorkels with you, because mine is blue.”
“I knew you would when you understood,” Barby said smugly.
“I don’t understand, but I’ll trade. Come on. Let’s go to Whiteside.”
Jan remained behind, because Steve had not given permission for the Morrisons to leave the island, and Rick refused to take the responsibility in spite of Barby’s pleading.