Janig.
��������� That was the name Colonel Blythe had given, the name on their identity cards.� Rick asked:� "Sir, what is JANIG?�
��������� "It is one of
the organizations, perhaps the chief one, engaged in protecting the security of
the
��������� Rick repeated the title aloud.� It had a strange sound.� He had the sudden feeling that he and Scotty had been projected into the middle of a novel, a thriller about spies.
��������� Dr. Keppner divined his thought.� "It sounds romantic, I suppose.� It isn't.� Not the slightest.� It is mostly very dull detail work.� Only in times like this, when the unexpected threatens to break down security precautions, does the entire force go into action.� And I assure you that they do not fail.�
��������� It was a comforting thought.� Rick remembered the way Steve Ames had impressed him.
��������� "Do we go to work right away?� Scotty asked.
��������� Dr. Keppner consulted his watch.� "I think not.� Suppose you report at eight in the morning?� The persons you are actually to assist will be here then.� Meanwhile, I have a problem that I can tackle better alone.�
��������� Scotty and Rick looked at each other, the same thought in their minds.� Return to that hotel room for another day?
��������� "Do we have to hang around the hotel?� Rick queried anxiously.
��������� "No.� Go back and check to be sure there are no further instructions for you, then you may do as you please.� However, don't be out of touch with the hotel for more than two hours at a time.� Phone in. the desk clerks can be trusted.� They're Steve's men.�
��������� "I hope we can help,� Rick said doubtfully.� He wasn't at all sure of himself when it came to working with strangers.� He had worked with the Spindrift scientists for so long that he could anticipate their requests for equipment or materials.� He knew the Spindrift equipment thoroughly.� But new scientists in a new lab�
��������� The doctor ushered them to the door and waved as they went down the stairs.
��������� On the sidewalk, Rick put his hat on and looked at Scotty.
��������� "I'm really snowed,� Scotty said.� "We've stepped into something this time.�
��������� "No wonder Dad couldn't tell us anything,� Rick agreed.� "Scotty, do you suppose Weiss and Zircon are alright?�
��������� "I don't know.� I wish I did.� You can see why they were kidnapped, can't you?�
��������� "Because the other side, whoever they are, doesn't want to give the government a chance to build a counterweapon.� But that can't be all the answer.� If they wanted to stop the work entirely, they'd have to get rid of all the other scientists.�
��������� Scotty nodded.� "But by kidnapping Weiss and Zircon they gain time.� They're the two best men in the field on this kind of thing.� Remember, your dad turned all the ultrasonic work over to Weiss.�
��������� They had walked slowly in the direction of the hotel as they talked.
"But if they're stalling for time, that must mean they're planning a really big job and they can't afford interference,� Rick said thoughtfully.� "Maybe one more strike at some secret lab or something and they'll quit.�
��������� "No use making guesses,� Scotty said.� "We might as well wait until there are some answers.�
��������� At the hotel, the clerk greeted them with an envelope.� Rick took it, his hands suddenly unsteady.� It might be more instructions.� It might even be news of Weiss and Zircon.� Then he saw the return address.
��������� "It's from Barby,� he said.
��������� He sat down on a couch in the lobby, Scotty next to him, and tore the envelope open.� It was in Barby's distinctive handwriting.� She always made her letters large, with flourishes, and it usually took a sheet for half a dozen sentences.
��������� "Read it with me,� Rick invited, and held the letter so Scotty could see.
��������� Dear Rick and Scotty:
��������� By now your are
enjoying the sights of the Capital, and I wish I were with you.� Have you met any congressmen?� If you see the President, tell him to pass a
law so that girls have to go with their brothers on all long trips.
��������� What I'm writing about especially is
that Dismal almost caught the woodchuck.�
He came home, and he had some fur in his mouth.� I think he must have caught him just as he
went into his hole, but didn't get a firm grip.�
When he came home he was as proud as anything.� He ate a big meal and then went right
back.� It was the first time he came home
without being called, so I guess he thought he had done a pretty good day's
work.
��������� Mr. Huggins was here yesterday,
though, and he said unless we get rid of the woodchuck, there won't be enough
lettuce left in the garden to garnish a salad for a churchmouse,
which certainly isn't much lettuce.� He
said he would get a gun and shoot the woodchuck, but mother came to the rescue
and said not to, it was Dismal's woodchuck and no one
was going to get it but him.� Mr. Huggins
shrugged and said, if you want to buy lettuce and feed what we grow to a
woodchuck, that's all right with me.� I'm
just a farmer.� I guess I don't know
anything about dog sicology.� (Is that how you spell it?� I can't find my dictionary.)
��������� Everything else is very quiet, and the
island is lonesome with everyone away.� I
went on a picnic yesterday and got sunburned, so now my nose is peeling.
��������� Oh, yes.� There is one thing more.� The other day the phone rang and I answered.� It was for Dad.� He told whoever it was to hold the line, then
came into the switchboard and made me go into the kitchen so I couldn't listen.� I think that was mean.� Anyway, right after that, Professor Gordon
took your Cub, Rick, and flew Dad somewhere.�
When he came back (Professor Gordon, I mean) he was
all alone.� I don't know where Dad
went.� I don't think Mom does,
either.� Anyway, we haven't heard a word
from him.� That was on Friday
afternoon.� I think it's very funny he
should go off like that, but I guess it's all right.� Send me some postcards, and please try to get
me some good autographs.� Mom sends her
love, and so does
������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� Your
loving sister,
��������� Rick let the letter fall to his lap and looked at Scotty, his face pale.
��������� "Dad has vanished, too!�
��������� "Take it easy,� Scotty said quickly.� "Don't go jumping to conclusions.� It must have been a legitimate phone call, because Professor Gordon flew him to the mainland.� He's probably working on the case somewhere else.�
��������� "I wish I knew that for sure,� Rick said.� He stared at the letter.� "That's Barby for you.� She puts it at the end of the letter.�
��������� "She can't know what's going on,� Scotty reminded him.� "To her, I guess it's more important about Dismal and the woodchuck.� It wouldn't even occur to her that Dad might be in any danger.�
��������� "I suppose not,� Rick agreed.� "I hope it never does.�
��������� Scotty stood up.� "Where do we go?� We can't hang around here.� We'll go crazy.� How about a movie?�
��������� Rick knew that Scotty was right.� Staying at the hotel, with nothing to think about but the mysterious enemy who had taken Weiss and Zircon, and possibly his father, would be worse than foolish.� It would leave them in such a state of mind that they wouldn't be able to work efficiently when the time came.
��������� "I suppose you want to see an Oat Opera,� he said.
��������� "Fine way to describe the sweeping panorama of an historical, Western motion picture,� Scotty retorted.
��������� "Historical or hysterical?�
��������� "Take your pick.� Anyway, I don't care about seeing a Western.� A nice horror picture would suit me fine.�
��������� "Entertainment to suit the mood,� Rick agreed.� "Let's hike downtown and look at the shows.�
��������� "Okay.� Better stop at the desk first.�
��������� Rick nodded and walked to where the sleepy clerk was reading the sports section of the Washington Star.
��������� "Anything for Room 408?�
��������� Drowsy eyes scanned them briefly.� "Not a thing.� Going out?�
��������� "To a movie,� Scotty said.
��������� "Call back in a couple of hours.�
��������� "We will.�
��������� They left the
hotel and walked down
��������� "Mr. Brant!�
��������� Rick and Scotty turned.� The hotel clerk was standing on the steps waving at them.
��������� Rick's first thought was that some word had suddenly come from Steve Ames, then he saw that the clerk held a hat in his hands.� His hat.� The sudden excitement died.� He walked back and took the hat.� Thanking the clerk, he put the hat on and rejoined Scotty and they continued on their way.� Neither of them noticed the dark-blue sedan parked across the street from the hotel.� At the sound of Rick's name, the two men in it had showed quick interest.� Now, as the boys continued toward the center of the city, the sedan pulled away from the curb, heading in the opposite direction, and started around the block.
��������� "I'm plenty worried about Dad,� Rick told Scotty.� "You know the kind of people we're working against.� Anyone with brass enough to walk right into a guarded government building wouldn't have any qualms about removing people who stood in their way.�
��������� "Do you think I don't realize that?�
��������� A few cars
had been drifting past, but Rick paid no attention.� As they approached the corner of
��������� Rick glanced up, not particularly curious.� He noticed that the man sitting beside the driver was past middle age and wore sunglasses.� Then, unexpectedly, the driver of the car, a younger man with a flattened nose like an unsuccessful prize fighter, leaned past the older man and called:
��������� "You're Mr. Brant.� Right?�
��������� "Yes,� Rick said.
��������� "Steve Ames sent us to pick you up.� Get in.�� The back door of the sedan swung open.
��������� Rick started to obey.� He walked to the open door with Scotty behind him.� Then, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.� To get into the back seat, he half-turned, and the steps of the hotel, half a block down the street, came into his line of vision.
��������� He saw the clerk, still on the hotel steps.� He saw him start toward the sedan, then abruptly change his mind and run into the hotel!
��������� Rick's mind clicked at lightning speed.� The clerk was Steve's man.� Dr. Keppner had said so!� Then why had the clerk acted so strangely?
��������� "Run, Scotty!� Rick turned and sprinted.
��������� He was ten paces from the car when the thing hit.
��������� There was a high, shrill whispering, then total silence.� His mind commanded his legs to continue running, but there was suddenly no feeling anywhere in his body.� He fought to keep his balance, but he could no longer exercise control.� He fell sideways, and as he half turned in mid-air, he saw the driver getting out of the sedan.
��������� Rick knew when he struck the sidewalk, because rough cement was suddenly close to his eyes.� But he felt nothing!� He must have rolled when he hit, because blue sky, filtered by green leaves, was in his eyes.� The thing had happened so suddenly there was no time to be afraid.� He couldn't believe that he was paralyzed.� He tried to move and saw the sky shake and knew he was moving, but he couldn't feel his muscles respond!
��������� He tried to yell, and in his own mind he did yell, but his lips didn't move and he could hear nothing!
��������� Then the sky was blotted out as the driver leaned over him, reaching for him.� They were pulling him into the car!
��������� It was like a scene in a silent movie, as though it were happening to someone else.� He tried to fight and his muscles refused to obey.� He saw the car door loom up as he was prop0elled toward it, then the scene gyrated.� Black macadam road came up with frightening speed and got blacker and blacker.
��������� Then there was nothing at all.
��������� Rick struggled up through syrupy blackness.� Once he thought he heard a voice, but he couldn't be sure.� He thought that he was encased in black tar, unable to move even a finger, but he couldn't be sure of that, either.
��������� He heard someone groaning and wondered if it were Scotty.� What had happened to Scotty?� He struggled again, trying to free himself from the dark bonds that held him fast.� The groaning was louder now.� It sounded like someone making a mighty effort to free himself from something.
��������� He pressed his lips tight with the effort of moving and the groaning stopped abruptly. That startled him.� The groans were his!� He tried to force his eyes open and a glimmer of light showed through.
��������� "He's coming out of it.�� The voice was small and faraway.
��������� Rick opened his eyes and stared up at a white ceiling.� He tried to roll his eyes, and miracle of miracles, he succeeded!� Faces were bent over him, anxious and familiar.
��������� Dr. Keppner.� And Hartson Brant!
��������� Rick yelled, "Dad!�
��������� Hartson Brant was white, but he managed a joke.� "Now you know how Dismal felt, son.�
��������� With his father's help, Rick sat up and looked around him.� He was in Dr. Keppner's lab, on a leather couch.� And Scotty was sitting next to him on a chair, a dazed grin on his face.
��������� "We've had it,� Scotty said.� "We've really had it good!�
��������� "What happened?�� Questions poured from him.
��������� "Didn't those men get us?� Dad, where did you come from?� How did we get here?�
��������� "One thing at a time.��
Hartson Brant smiled.� "You got here with the help of the hotel
clerk and Steve Ames.� As for me, I got
in by train half an hour ago after stopping over in
��������� "I don't know how you felt,� Scotty said, "but I didn't feel anything.� I just heard a whispering noise and then I turned into a statue and fell flat on my back and lay there.� The men got out of the car, and the driver went for you and the other one started for me.� The driver put you on your feet like a length of cordwood and started to shove you into the car head first.�
��������� "I remember that,� Rick said.� He was slowly realizing that he hurt all over and that his head throbbed like an ulcerated tooth.
��������� "That was when the hotel clerk and two other came steaming down the street.� Or that's what I was told later by the clerk.� My range of vision didn't extend that far.� I only know that the driver dropped you.� You landed face first in the road.� Isn't your nose sure?�
��������� Rick reached up with his hand and felt gingerly, then he let out a yelp of anguish.
��������� "I thought it was,� Scotty said.� "I guess the driver must have left the whispering box in the car, otherwise he would have used it on the clerk.� As it was, he didn't dare take time to get it, I guess, because the clerk was waving a pistol.� So the two guys hopped in the car and roared off.� This is hearsay, remember.� I was lying there stiff as a hunk of hickory.
��������� "Anyway, the clerk and his two helpers picked us up and carried us to the hotel.� Quite a crowd was gathering.� While we were in the hotel, I snapped out of it.� I didn't lose consciousness, but you must have been knocked silly when you hit the road.� When I could walk, we carried you out the back way and loaded you into a car.� Steve Ames had arrived by this time.� The effects of the box had worn off, all right, because you were limp.�
��������� "That was about five minutes ago,� Dr. Keppner said.� "Steve has gone to try to get a line on that car.�
��������� "But how did those men know us?� Rick asked.� "How did they know we'd be there for them to get?�
"They evidently know a lot more than we give them credit for,� Keppner said grimly.� "As for the rest, they obviously had the hotel under observation.� Perhaps a traitor on the staff tipped them off.� We'll find out sooner or later.� They merely waited until you left, then swung around the block to meet you.�
��������� Scotty rubbed his head.� "But why did they want us?�
��������� "For information, possibly,� Dr. Keppner said.� "And another possibility is that they wanted you as hostages.�
��������� Rick got to his feet a little unsteady until Hartson Brant slipped an arm around his shoulder.� There was a mirror on the other side of the small room.� Rick stared, and he couldn't believe it.
��������� There was a large purple bruise on his forehead, and his nose was a swollen red blot that spread across the middle of his face.� No wonder he felt as though he had come off second best in a war with an armored truck.
��������� "The nose isn't broken,� Dr. Keppner said.� "It only feels broken, Rick.� It's fortunate that you have a good, thick skull.� Other wise we'd still be working over you.�
��������� Scotty laughed.� "A good thick skull!� That disposes of brother Brant.� Wait until I tell Barby what the doctor said.�
��������� "If you do,� Rick warned, "it won't be whispers that you'll hear, it'll be birdies.�
��������� Hartson Brant and Kr. Keppner chuckled.
��������� "Unfortunate choice of words for a very fortunate boy,� Dr. Keppner said.� "The clerk, who is very alert in spite of his apparent sleepiness, had been keeping an eye on the sedan, which had been parked across the street.� That's why he happened to be out there at the crucial moment.� He was looking to see where it had gone.�
��������� "We're a lucky family,� Hartson Brant said.
��������� "I'll say!� Rick looked at his father.� "We got a letter form Barby.� She said you had vanished.� We were worried sick.� Honest, Dad, it was worth getting knocked out just to wake up and find that those men didn't have you.�
��������� "Thanks, son,� Hartson Brant said seriously.� "But we mustn't lose sight of another important fact.� Those men do have Weiss and Zircon.�
��������� "If they're still alive,� Dr. Keppner added grimly.