CHAPTER XIX

  Lucky Lefty

  Rick awoke to fiery agony. His face was burning, the flames searing hisflesh. He tried to reach a hand up to ease the pain and found the handgripped firmly. He struggled, and Steve's voice said, "Take it easy,Rick. We'll be through in a minute."

  The boy subsided and gritted his teeth. If Steve was there, it was okay.But why didn't Steve put out the fire?

  "Don't move," Steve said sharply. "I don't want to hurt you any morethan I can help."

  Rick closed his eyes and fought the pain. He heard Steve say, "Give methe spray can." Then something cool and soothing spread over his face.

  An arm circled his shoulder and raised him to a sitting position. Heopened his eyes and looked into Scotty's worried face. Rick managed agrin. "It's okay," he said hoarsely.

  "If being alive is okay, then it's okay," Scotty said with relief. "Butyou're a mess, boy."

  Rick looked up dazedly. Steve was smiling at him, and next to Steve,Orvil Harris! "Glad you're all right," the boy murmured.

  "Thanks, Rick. I'm glad you finally came around. You had us worried fora bit. And, Rick, meet my cousin Link."

  A tall, gaunt man stepped forward. "Howdy, Rick? How do you feel?"

  "Woozy," Rick said honestly. "Help me up, somebody."

  Scotty lifted him, then guided him to a lawn chair. "Sit down. You'retoo weak to stand."

  Rick subsided gratefully. He could see better now, although it wasnearly dark. There were other people seated in chairs on the Calvert'sFavor lawn. Camillion, his electronics expert, and two others. At fulllength, covered by a blanket, was the guard. He looked up at Rick, hiseyes dull and malevolent, but he said nothing.

  "What happened?" Rick asked.

  Joe Vitalli stood behind Camillion and company, his riot gun ready. TheJANIG agent was wet up to his armpits. Chuck Howard came into sight frombehind Rick, and he carried an open first-aid kit.

  "You jumped for the balloon," Steve reminded him. He motioned to thebodyguard. "This one tried a pot-shot at you and Scotty nailed him witha spear. Then you smashed into the piling and got knocked out. Thepiling was rough. Your mask was ripped off and your face dragged alongthe wood just enough to take the skin off and leave you full ofsplinters. We were taking the biggest splinters out when you came to.How does your face feel?"

  "Awful," Rick said. The soothing effect of the antiseptic spray waswearing off and the pain was returning. "Where's the balloon?"

  "On the ground behind you. Scotty got to you first, and with his weighton it, the thing finally came down." The young agent grinned admiringly."We had to pry your hands off the rocket. Never saw such a stubborn cussin my life. Out cold, and still holding on."

  "Persistent," Rick said weakly. "Not stubborn. Did you round up thewhole gang?"

  "The whole lot."

  Lefty Camillion glared at Rick from a chair on the other side of thesmall circle.

  "Why did you do it?" Rick asked. "What did you hope to gain?"

  The syndicate chief shrugged, but kept his silence.

  "I can shed a little light," Steve said. "Some of it is speculation, butit stands up. Lefty knew his appeal against the deportation order wasalmost certain to be turned down. Within a few weeks he'd be on his wayout of the country. The FBI has been trying to get the full dope onLefty, and one thing they found was that expensive living had taken mostof his money. He needed cash, in other words. This was the way he choseto get it, collecting the data transmitted by the research rockets fromWallops and selling it."

  Rick shook his head, then winced. "It's a crazy idea," he said. "I don'tknow why. I just know it is. I could tell you, but I can't seem tothink."

  There were sirens far away, but getting closer. Scotty put a hand onRick's shoulder. "Don't try to think now, old buddy. The ambulance iscoming. Plenty of time to talk when you're feeling better."

  Rick nodded weakly. It was getting very dark. He closed his eyes andleaned back. Scotty kept a hand on his shoulder.

  The ambulance, led by a state trooper, pulled into the grounds. Anattendant and an intern jumped out. "Who's hurt?" the intern asked.

  "This one first," Steve said. "Then the one on the ground."

  Rick felt a hand grip his chin and opened his eyes. The intern wasexamining his face with a strong flashlight beam.

  "Messy but superficial," the intern said calmly. "I'll bet it hurts."

  "You win," Rick muttered.

  "How did it happen?"

  Steve described Rick's accident briefly. The intern nodded. He shinedthe light into Rick's eyes and watched the pupils contract. "Possibleconcussion. We'll check at the hospital." He knelt and took a roll ofcloth from his bag and unwrapped it to disclose hypodermic needles in asterile inner wrapper. He fitted a needle to a syringe and found abottle of alcohol and a vial of sedative. Working swiftly, he wiped thevial top and Rick's arm with alcohol, then drew fluid into the syringe."This will help the pain," he said, and pressed the needle into Rick'sarm.

  "Now," the doctor said briskly, "let's look at the next one. Whathappened to him?"

  "Fish spear in the side," Steve replied.

  Scotty and the attendant helped Rick to the ambulance. He lay down onthe stretcher gratefully and closed his eyes. Scotty stayed with himwhile the attendant went to help with the bodyguard.

  "Quite a party," Rick said faintly.

  Scotty covered him with a blanket. "You missed most of it, but I'll giveyou the details tomorrow. How are you feeling?"

  "Groggy." Rick's eyes were closed. He was never sure at what point hedrifted off into deep slumber. He knew only that he had no recollectionof the bodyguard being placed next to him or of the ambulance leavingCalvert's Favor.

  Rick awoke to bright daylight. The pain in his face had subsided to afaintly aching stiffness and he felt fine. He knew from the surroundingsthat he must be in a hospital, probably at Cambridge. He groped for thecall bell and found it wound around the bedpost. He pushed it. In a fewmoments a nurse came in.

  "Well," she greeted him, "how are you this morning?"

  "Hungry," Rick replied promptly.

  The nurse, a pleasant-faced woman of middle age, smiled. "That's a goodsign. Let's see what we can do. Ready for visitors?"

  "Send them in," Rick said cheerfully. "Or is it just one?"

  "Two." The nurse went to the door and beckoned. "I'll send in somebreakfast," she said, and left.

  Rick's hand touched his head gingerly. The right side of his face wasbandaged, the pad held in place by tape that crossed his forehead andcircled down under his chin. He probed gently and discovered that thesorest places were his temple and an area just in front of his ear.

  Steve Ames and Scotty came in and greeted him with wide smiles. "Thenurse says you're hungry," Steve said. "Sounds like the old Rick."

  Scotty asked, "How about crab cakes for breakfast?"

  "Bring 'em on, followed by a dozen steamed clams and an order offritters," Rick replied. "How's the bodyguard?"

  "Well enough so his disposition is pretty nasty," Steve reported. "He'llbe here for at least a week before the jail cell opens wide. Seriously,Rick, are you all right? Apparently there was no concussion."

  "I'm fine," Rick assured him. "But I'll bet this bandage makes me looklike a survivor of Custer's Last Stand."

  Steve and Scotty drew chairs up to the bed. "One last look by the doctorand we'll take you home," Steve told him. "If you feel up to it."

  "What'll I do for clothes?" Rick asked.

  "They're in your closet," Scotty replied. "We brought them with us. Lastnight we took your gear home after the hospital folks peeled you out ofit."

  "Good." Rick looked at his two friends. "Now suppose you tell me whathappened last night? I must have been out like a light while theexcitement was running high."

  Scotty nodded. "I'll start. I was behind one of the pier piles when thebodyguard cut the balloon loose. I jumped out for a clear shot, but bythen you had put your spear through the thing. I was going
to add minefor good luck when I saw the bodyguard reach for the old equalizer anddraw a bead on you, so I shifted targets. I looked back at you just intime to see you dangling from the stingaree like an extra tail. Andright then you went boom into the piling. But would Brant ever let go ofevidence? Not you, ol' buddy. There you dangled, limp as a wilted bananawhile the balloon drifted along with you. I started toward you as fastas I could go, which wasn't very fast with water up to my waist."

  "Wish I could have seen it," Rick said with a grin.

  "So do I," Scotty assured him. "Camillion and his friends were alsosomewhat interested in you. They started down the lawn, and I was surethey'd get to you before I could. Only then Joe and Chuck stepped out ofthe bushes not ten yards from where I'd been hiding, and yelled to thelads to hold fast and get their hands high. Steve stepped around thecorner of the barn with a .45 in his mitt and emphasized the point.Lefty and company got the idea and skidded to a stop with all brakeslocked. I put on more speed, and Steve joined the chase."

  "I didn't see you hit the piling." Steve picked up the story. "But Iheard it. When I saw that the boys had things under control with theirshotguns, I stepped on it and got to you a few seconds after Scotty hadgrabbed you by the waist. When I saw your face, I had a few bad momentsuntil I could take a closer look. You were a bloody mess, to put itmildly, with more than a few splinters adding color. But I could seeyour manly beauty wasn't gone forever. We pried you loose from therocket and stretched you out on the lawn. Your pulse was pretty good andyou were breathing steadily, so we gave you a few whiffs of oxygen fromScotty's tank for good luck."

  Rick could appreciate how worried his friends must have been in spite oftheir half-humorous report.

  "Lefty spoke up," Steve continued. "It was the only time he spoke. He'ssaid nothing since. He said, 'There's a first-aid kit in the kitchen.'We got it, and went to work on you. Of course we put in a call to thepolice, and asked for an ambulance. Joe Vitalli kept a watch on thecrowd and Chuck went into the barn while we pulled splinters out of you.He found Orvil, and he also found Lincoln Harris."

  "I remember meeting him," Rick nodded. "I was too groggy to besurprised."

  "He was okay. They hadn't mistreated him. Link said he had gone up thecreek just in time to see them launch a balloon with a rocket on it, andthey got the drop on him with rifles, then grabbed him. His curiositygot the better of him. He'd heard about the people at Calvert's Favorand decided to take a look, the waterways being free to all navigators.Orvil had a bump on his head, but otherwise was all right. Lefty hasn'ttalked, but I suspect he had plans for their release, once he was safelyout of the country."

  "Where is Lefty?" Rick asked.

  "He and his friends are in the local jail. You know, Lefty is a chump.But he's also an excellent example of what happens to people when theystart operating in unfamiliar fields."

  "Why is he a chump?" Rick demanded.

  "Because every bit of data he went to so much trouble to collect was hisfor the asking, if he'd only waited until it was processed."

  The light dawned. Rick knew at once what Steve meant. "That's what wastrying to get to the surface in this addled brain of mine last night. Ofcourse! Wallops Island is an unclassified launch site. Everything aboutthe launchings is reported in scientific publications! But, Steve, theSoviet Embassy was interested in buying the stuff!"

  Steve chuckled. "Sure, but not for a very high price, I suspect. TheReds are so suspicious they can't believe that a country like the UnitedStates can afford to give away data. They'd buy the tapes just to makesure we weren't holding back information they could use."

  "Even a casual investigation would have told Lefty the data from Wallopsfirings is published by scientific publications," Scotty pointed out."How could he have been so stupid?"

  "He fell into a natural trap," Steve answered. "Most people think thereis military secrecy connected with rocket firings. They don't make adistinction between the civilian space agency and the military services.But the law does. It says the National Aeronautics and SpaceAdministration is required to report on its scientific findings."

  "And it does," Rick concluded. "Dad has already written a report on theinstruments for measuring solar X rays. The scientists who actually usethe instruments will also write a report on the data they obtained."

  "That's it," Steve agreed. "What's a little more puzzling is why theelectronics expert didn't know. I suspect he has been concerned onlywith the design of telemetry equipment and not with any actuallaunchings or space experiments."

  "Maybe he did know," Scotty offered. "He might have kept quiet just toget money from Lefty for doing the work on intercepting the data. Youknow we had the clues, but it never occurred to us there might be aconnection between Wallops Island and the stingarees, because who couldimagine going to all that trouble to intercept open, unclassified datayou can get by asking for it?"

  Rick had to laugh. "Whether he knew or not, it's still a joke on Lefty,and on us for not suspecting the connection. And poor Lefty won't have anest egg to take back to Europe with him."

  "He won't need a nest egg," Steve corrected. "Lefty violated the law bykidnaping Link and Orvil. I don't know whether we can make a federalespionage rap stick or not, since the data he was collecting wasunclassified. But we'll try. Anyway, he won't be going back to Europe.He'll end up in a Maryland prison, or a Federal one. Either way, it'llbe some years before he has to worry about money."

  "Lucky Lefty," Rick said. "A cell of his own, plenty of food, and noworries about money. We did him a favor."

  Steve grinned. "Just don't expect any gratitude for a favor like that!"

  CHAPTER XX

  Hunt the Wide Waters

  The cruising houseboat _Spindrift_ moved sedately across Eastern Bay,off the main Chesapeake Bay, toward the town of Claiborne. It was alovely day with a blue sky dotted with occasional fair-weather clouds.The temperature was in the low eighties, the wind gentle, and the waterwarm.

  Rick Brant sat on the bow of the houseboat, with his feet dangling over.Next to him sat Jan Miller. His sister Barby, with their mother andfather, were relaxing in deck chairs on the sun deck, while Scottypiloted the boat.

  Now and then the bow dipped, and the spray splashed up in a coolingshower. Rick enjoyed the feeling of the cool spray, and the taste ofsalt on his tongue. Jan did, too. Rick thought she made quite a picturewith her white bathing suit and golden tan contrasting with her darkhair. His one regret was that he couldn't swim with Jan, Scotty, and thefamily. Both Jan and Barby were expert Scuba divers, and he had lookedforward to spearfishing with them in the bay. The girls had broughttheir own Scuba equipment in the luggage compartment of Hartson Brant'scar.

  Rick's bandages had been reduced to a single jumbo-size gauze patch, buthis folks would not allow him to go swimming until his face was entirelyhealed. He knew they were right, though he chafed under the restriction.Even so, swimming was really only a small part of the fun ofhouseboating, and the ban on swimming wouldn't last long.

  Jan had put on a fresh bandage for him after breakfast that morning, andremarked in her soft voice, "It will be completely healed in another dayor two, Rick. You can go swimming then."

  Meanwhile, he had found an acceptable substitute. Steve Ames was asubscriber to _Bowhunting Magazine_, and in a back issue Rick had foundan article on fishing for sting rays with bow and arrow. Steve hadloaned a bow, and Rick had invested in fishing arrows and a reel for thebow. So far, he had found only one sting ray, and in his excitement hehad failed to take into account the refraction of the water. He aimedwhere the ray seemed to be--but wasn't.

  Rick's pretty, blond sister called down to him. "Rick! There's a sandbar at the tip of that point."

  He looked to where Barby was pointing and saw a good-sized sand barextending out under the water. "I see it, Sis. Thanks. It will be awhile before we get there."

  Jan smiled at him. "Going to try again?"

  "You bet I am. Got to catch up with you somehow."

  J
an had bagged a ten-pound rockfish underwater on the day before, andthey had baked it in a driftwood fire on a beach at Poplar Island. Rickwas as proud as though the catch had been his own. He had been Jan'sdiving instructor and had taught her how to stalk a fish.

  "You can catch up day after tomorrow when the folks will let you dive,"Jan assured him.

  "Can't wait that long," Rick replied. "I'm going to find a fifty-poundray right now."

  "Go get your bow," Jan said. "I'll join the others and we'll all spotfor you."

  Rick got to his feet and gave Jan a hand up. He went down the catwalk tothe cabin while she went up the ladder to the top deck.

  The bow was in the closet. Rick checked the string, then strung the bowand selected two arrows. He went out on deck and stopped at Scotty'sside. "Looks like a good place. Cruise slow and easy and be ready tomaneuver. If there's a ray there, I want it."

  "Okay. Go for broke, Robin Hood. What I can't understand is why youdon't shoot for something edible."

  "Can't," Rick said cheerfully. "Edible-type fish don't hang aroundwaiting for boats to bring bowmen close."

  He climbed the rear ladder to the upper deck and joined his family.Hartson Brant smiled at his son. "Next time we let you go off byyourself don't get involved in mysteries. Then you won't have to bowhuntinedible sea animals."

  "It's fun," Rick returned. "I'd want to do it even if I could spearfish. Want to take a shot?"

  "I'll take a shot after you've boated your first ray."

  "Fair enough," Rick agreed.

  Mrs. Brant asked, "Where are we going, Rick?"

  He pointed to the peninsula. "Around that land. There's a creek on theother side called Tilghman Creek. The cruising guide says there's a goodanchorage just inside. If it looks all right, well spend the nightthere. If not, we'll go across to the Wye River. Tomorrow we'll go downthe Miles River to the town of St. Michaels and put in supplies."

  The scientist smiled at his wife. "It's nice to relax and have ourchildren do the work and the thinking, isn't it?"

  "It's too good to last," Mrs. Brant returned.

  Barby and Jan were standing far forward, close to where the cabin topcurved downward to the forward deck. Rick joined them.

  "This is fun!" Barby exclaimed. "Rick this houseboat was the best ideayou ever had!"

  "We all should have traveled down together," Jan said. "Then the wholefamily could have been in on the case of the flying stingaree."

  "That will be the day," Barby replied. "When Rick Brant lets us in onany real adventures, I'll know the world is coming to an end." Her tonechanged suddenly. "Look, we're getting into shallow water. Keep a sharplookout!"

  Rick went down the ladder to the foredeck and tied his arrowhead to thefish line wound in the reel on his bow. He nocked the arrow and gotready to shoot. He looked up at the two pretty girls standing above him."Let out a yell if you see a dark blot."

  Barby gave him a scornful look. "Of course we'll yell. Did you think wewere standing here waiting for flying saucers to land?"

  The houseboat plowed through a patch of sea grass and emerged over sandybottom. Rick kept careful watch, but he knew the girls would see thefirst sign of a ray before he did, because of their higher vantagepoint.

  Steve would enjoy this, he thought. The JANIG agent was back inWashington, his vacation interrupted again because of the work thatremained on the case of Lefty Camillion. Lefty was in jail, too, alongwith his friends.

  Rick shook his head. He was still amazed at the mobster's stupidity increating such an elaborate setup to get data that was his for theasking. Apparently it just hadn't occurred to Lefty that a rocket rangecould be without secrets.

  If there _had_ been secrets, though, the system was a good one. By usingthe combination of a balloon and a rocket, Lefty got his equipment highenough to intercept Wallops Island telemetry, and he did it withoutanyone suspecting he was launching rockets. The rockets and balloonsdropped into the ocean, unseen--or, if seen, the first thought would bethat they had come from Wallops. The shape of the balloons also keptanyone from suspecting that the theft of data was the real purpose. Itwas a fine scheme, even though it had all been unnecessary.

  The girls let out a yell that startled Rick from his reverie. Scottyimmediately throttled back, and the boat's momentum carried it forward.Rick watched the water, and finally saw a dark blur on the sandy bottomahead and to the left. He drew, then waited until he saw the dark patchmove. This time he allowed for the water's refraction. He loosed thearrow.

  The stingaree felt the impact and reacted violently. Its tail lashed upto strike with sharp barbs at the intruder. The tail lashed the arrowshaft without effect. The ray's wings moved in a rippling motion likethat of some weird flying carpet. It flashed upward, and into the air,then crashed back on the surface of the water again. It dived, headingfor the bottom.

  Rick kept the drag on his reel, letting the ray fight against thebraking action. The fish didn't give up easily. It had the primitivenervous system and great vitality of its relatives, the sharks, and itfought long after an edible fish, like a rockfish, would have given up.

  When the ray moved toward the now stationary boat, Rick reeled in line.When the ray showed a new burst of energy and started away, Rick let itfight against the drag, pulling out line.

  The girls were down on the foredeck with him now, and Scotty had joinedthe Brants on the upper deck in order to get a better view of the fight.

  Finally, the ray tired. Rick drew it in close to the hull and waitedwhile the vicious tail lashed futilely. Jan took the gaff that Scottyhanded down to her and gave it to Rick. He hooked the sea beast andlifted it from the water.

  "Stand clear!" he warned. "I don't want either of you getting hit withthat tail!"

  The girls hurried up the ladder to safety, and Rick lifted the stingareeto the deck.

  It was a small one, weighing about fifteen pounds. The wet, leatherybody glistened, and the kite-shaped wings flapped like those of somefantastic bird.

  Scotty looked down at the ray. "You caught a cripple," he said. "There'ssomething wrong with it."

  Rick looked up. He knew the answer, but he asked the question anyway,grinning. "Yes? What's wrong with it?"

  "It can't fly," Scotty said.

  * * * * *

  RICK BRANT SCIENCE STORIES

  RICK BRANT]

  Rick Brant is the boy who with his pal Scotty lives on an island calledSpindrift and takes part in so many thrilling adventures and bafflingmysteries involving science and electronics. You can share every one ofthese adventures in the pages of Rick's books. They are available atyour book store in handsome, low-priced editions.

  THE ROCKET'S SHADOW THE LOST CITY SEA GOLD 100 FATHOMS UNDER THE WHISPERING BOX MYSTERY THE PHANTOM SHARK SMUGGLERS' REEF THE CAVES OF FEAR STAIRWAY TO DANGER THE GOLDEN SKULL THE WAILING OCTOPUS THE ELECTRONIC MIND READER THE SCARLET LAKE MYSTERY THE PIRATES OF SHAN THE BLUE GHOST MYSTERY THE EGYPTIAN CAT MYSTERY THE FLAMING MOUNTAIN THE FLYING STINGAREE THE RUBY RAY MYSTERY THE VEILED RAIDERS RICK BRANT'S SCIENCE PROJECTS

 
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