The Scarlet Lake Mystery: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story. Goodwin Harold Leland. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Goodwin Harold Leland
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Goodwin

      The Scarlet Lake Mystery: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story

      CHAPTER I

      Spindrift

      Rick Brant released the sling pouch with his left hand and let it drop smoothly to the end of its double string. The sling swung through a complicated arc, out to its full length, down again behind his back, then, with rapidly increasing speed, over his right shoulder. With a final whip he swung the pouch forward and released the free end of the string at precisely the right moment.

      The rock left the pouch at astonishing speed, whistling as it traveled out to sea. Over fifty yards from shore it slapped into the water only a few feet from a bottle that bobbed there as a target.

      Don Scott, nicknamed Scotty, nodded his approval. "Okay, David. Another hour of practice and you can go hunting Goliath."

      Rick grinned. "I'm getting the hang of it," he admitted. "Let's see you heave another one out there."

      The boys had collected a pile of assorted water-polished stones from the beach near Pirate's Field, and brought them to the front of the big Brant house facing the Atlantic Ocean.

      Scotty selected one of the larger ones, then checked his sling. The sling was simplicity itself. Two pieces of strong cord were connected to each side of the pouch, made of heavy canvas about four inches long and three wide. One string ended in a loop, which Scotty slipped over his right forefinger. The other string ended in a large knot, which Scotty held between his forefinger and thumb.

      Scotty placed the stone in the pouch and gripped it in his left hand, holding the stone in place with thumb and forefinger. He took throwing position, left hand holding the pouch slightly lower than shoulder height while his right held the strings in the center of his body just above his belt buckle.

      He released the pouch and put his solid weight into the throw.

      Rick's lips pursed in a silent whistle. The stone sang shrilly as it flew up, up, up and far out. Then the trajectory dropped off rapidly and it fell into the sea.

      "Bless Bess!" Rick exclaimed. "Three hundred yards if it was an inch!"

      Even Scotty looked a little surprised. "I'm going to quit while I'm ahead," he announced.

      Barbara Brant, a slim, pretty, blond girl a year Rick's junior, hailed them from the porch, then ran down and joined them. "Hi! What are you two doing?"

      "Scotty just won the rock-throwing championship of the East Coast," Rick told her.

      Barby looked surprised. "He did? I thought you were waiting for Dr. Gordon?"

      "We are, but we decided to try out Scotty's new sling while we were waiting."

      The boys, and in fact the entire scientific staff of Spindrift Island, had been in a state of excitement for the past few days because of a telegram received from Dr. John Gordon. Dr. Gordon had been on leave for some time, working on a special project at a rocket experimental station in the West. A few days before, Dr. Hartson Brant, Rick's father and head of the Spindrift Scientific Foundation, a world-famous research organization, had received word from Gordon that Rick and Scotty were needed for a special assignment. Gordon had not given any details in his wire.

      This morning Dr. Gordon had phoned that he had been delayed, but would arrive by Navy plane around noontime. Long before noon, Rick and Scotty had moved Rick's four-passenger Sky Wagon off the grassy runway that ran along the seaward side of the island, then settled down to the rock-throwing session.

      Barby said, "I'm pretty good with a slingshot. Let me try."

      Scotty handed her the sling. She looked at it dubiously. "What's this? It isn't a slingshot."

      "It's a sling," Rick explained. "Not a slingshot. You know – like David and Goliath."

      Barby looked her disbelief. "You mean David killed Goliath with two pieces of string and a piece of canvas?"

      "He probably used leather thongs and a leather pouch," Scotty said, "but the idea is the same."

      "Show her," Rick suggested.

      Scotty picked up another of the larger stones and let fly. It dropped short of the earlier throw, but the effect was enough to make Barby's blue eyes open wide.

      "Where did you get it?" she asked excitedly.

      "Made it. Steve Ames showed me how, and how to throw."

      The Spindrift Scientific Foundation, located on Spindrift Island off the New Jersey coast, had been called upon several times to assist the United States Government. In many of the cases, the scientific staff worked under the direction of a topnotch intelligence agent by the name of Steven Ames. Rick and Scotty had taken an active part, in spite of the fact that they were only in their teens.

      Working for JANIG, the intelligence group that Steve Ames represented, had taught both boys a great deal about intelligence procedures. This training was a major reason why John Gordon had called on them for assistance.

      "Isn't it a funny weapon for Steve Ames to use?" Barby asked. "I mean, after all, spies are supposed to use guns or knives, aren't they?"

      Rick grinned. "Sure. They carry knives between their teeth, and they have at least two guns each. Walking arsenals, that is what they are. It takes a strong man to be a spy, on account of all the heavy metal he has to lug around."

      Barby ignored him. "Scotty, how come Steve knows about slings?"

      "It's a hobby. He and a few others are trying to keep the art of using slings alive," Scotty explained. "It's been nearly forgotten."

      "I see." Barby glared at Rick. "If you can't give me a civil answer when I ask a question, I won't ask you any more!"

      Rick pointed out, "You'll have to stop for now, anyway, because Scotty and I have to leave on this special job of John Gordon's. Besides, the only reason you're mad is because you can't go."

      Barby always felt cheated when Rick and Scotty left the island on some exciting expedition or job. She had vowed to be a boy in her next reincarnation.

      Scotty stepped in as peacemaker. "Barby won't mind," he said. "After all, Jan Miller will be here in a few days."

      After completion of The Electronic Mind Reader case Hartson Brant had persuaded Dr. Walter Miller, an expert who had worked with the Spindrift staff, to join the Foundation permanently. That meant Barby would have Miller's daughter, Jan, as a companion, and Barby was delighted beyond words. The boys were pleased, too. Not only was Jan nice to have around, but her presence – they hoped – would mean less trouble from Barby when they were going off somewhere.

      The Millers would move into one of the new cottages behind the orchard, next to Parnell Winston, the staff cyberneticist. Howard Shannon, expert in the natural sciences, and his family would be their other neighbors.

      At the moment, however, Shannon and Tony Briotti, the staff archaeologist, were away on an expedition in the Sulu Sea. Rick and Scotty had been keenly disappointed at being left behind. But Dr. Gordon's offer of a new job had cheered them up considerably.

      "Shouldn't Dr. Gordon be arriving?" Barby asked.

      Scotty looked at his watch. "He should. But he didn't give any definite time."

      Barby poked at a sling stone with one slipper. "Where are you supposed to go?"

      "Somewhere in Nevada, Dad says," Rick replied.

      "I thought Dr. Gordon was at White Sands Proving Ground in New Mexico."

      "So did I," Scotty remarked. "The telegram was the first I knew about his working in Nevada."

      Barby held up her hand. "Listen!"

      A plane was in sight! Rick identified it as a prop-driven Navy utility job. No doubt of it, Gordon was arriving!

      They watched eagerly as the plane lost altitude, flaps and wheels lowered for the landing. The pilot brought it in over the big radar antenna on the laboratory roof, then dropped onto the runway for a three-point landing opposite the orchard.

      The three ran around the wing, bracing themselves against