The Firebird Rocket (6 page)

The boys returned to the ground floor. Young was still there and told them he had been watching the main staircase. “I was ready to call for help if the man appeared, but he didn't.”

“He probably took the back staircase,” Joe said.

“Too bad,” Young said. “Well, I hope you catch him next time. I'll keep an eye open and have him arrested if he shows up at the lab again. By the way, he apparently got in yesterday by flashing someone else's pass. An employee reported that his was stolen. But now that everyone's alerted, the fellow won't be able to pull the same trick twice.”

Young walked off to work in the card-index file, and Smoky said he had to get going, too. He returned to the bookstack he had been examining before, while Joe went to question the attendant at the door.

“A man with tinted glasses and a beard?” the fellow said. “Yes, he walked out a few minutes ago.”

“Thank you,” Joe said. Disappointed, he joined Frank and Chet and told them about his unsuccessful pursuit.

“Don't worry. I'm sure we'll see our shadow again,” Frank muttered. “Meanwhile we looked at all the books, including the one you pulled halfway off the shelf. We didn't find anything interesting on Woomera, so let's get over to the lab and start working.”

The trio spent the rest of the week questioning employees and students at the lab, searching files and records, and investigating Dr. Jenson's background and family. Not a single clue turned up.

As they were painstakingly searching the scientist's desk, Frank noticed a lightning bolt engraved on one side. He asked Professor Young about it.

“That's Adrian's unofficial trademark,” Young told them. “The staff claims he solves problems with lightning speed, and one of the fellows marked his desk one day after Adrian helped him out on a critical project.”

On Sunday night the phone rang as the boys were getting ready for bed. Frank lifted the receiver. “It's Dad,” he called out. Joe and Chet joined him at the instrument and filled the elder Hardy in on what they had done in Princeton.

“I'm still investigating people at the Space Flight Center,” Fenton Hardy said. “Director Henry Mason is afraid that an attempt may be made to destroy the rocket on its pad. I joined the work crew in disguise and spent two days at the launch site. However, so far I'm up against a stone wall.”

“Will you stay there until the launching?” Frank asked.

“Yes, I think so. It will take a lot more leg work to uncover a lead. Also, I'm setting up a brand-new security system for the launching. It's of vital importance that nothing go wrong.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Frank asked. “We've talked to everyone in the lab and nothing has turned up.”

His father was thoughtful for a moment, then said, “I think your best bet is to go to Australia!”

“Australia!” Frank exclaimed.

“Yes. Tell Professor Young I want you to try to pick up Jenson's trail in Sydney. A room was booked for him at the Australian Arms Hotel, but apparently he never checked in.”

“Okay, Dad. We'll go as soon as we can.”

“And another thing. Try to shake your shadow. He worries me. He obviously knows you're investigating the case and follows you wherever you go.”

“We'll get rid of him on the way home,” Frank promised and hung up.

“Do you think Young will let me go along?” Chet asked apprehensively.

“We'll ask him,” Frank said and called the professor's home. He told Young about the conversation with his father and the detective's suggestion.

“That's a good idea,” Young agreed. “Your father is right. You're being watched here. So far I haven't been able to find out anything about your shadow, and it's probably best if you leave Princeton without returning to the lab. Take a roundabout route and make sure you're not being tailed.”

“Will do,” Frank said. “If I can't get plane reservations for tomorrow or Tuesday, I'll call you back. Can we take Chet with us?”

Young hesitated. “I'm responsible for the expenses in this case, Frank. I can't really make a requisition for three people without a pressing reason.”

“I understand,” Frank said, disappointed.

Chet, who had overheard the conversation, looked crestfallen. After Frank hung up, he patted his friend on the back. “Don't feel bad, Chet. We might be back sooner than you think.”

“Feel bad!” Chet said. “I feel worse! I would love to see the kangaroos and the Great Barrier Reef. Just think of skin diving in the coral reef, more than a thousand miles of it! And fish in all colors of the rainbow—”

“Listen, we're not going sightseeing. We have a mystery to solve,” Joe put in. “Now I'd better call the airline and make reservations.”

Frank and Joe booked a flight to Sydney on Tuesday. Early Monday morning the boys left the Nassau Club and drove home, making sure they were not followed.

“The coast is clear,” Joe reported. “No one is behind us.”

They were not far out of Princeton, however, when Chet noticed a black limousine that seemed to keep them in sight. When Frank stepped on the gas, the driver of the limousine followed suit.

“You'll have to get off this road to lose him,” Joe said to his brother. But before Frank had a chance to do this, the limousine pulled nearly abreast of them. The driver honked his horn and motioned for them to pull to the side.

“Make a run for it!” Joe advised and Frank pressed the accelerator to the floor.

Another car drove between the limousine and the Hardys. Their pursuer swerved to the left, increased the speed of his powerful V-8 engine, and passed the second vehicle. He inched up to the Hardys and proceeded to cut them off!

Frank noticed the legend on the limousine's side: PRINCETON AEROSPACE LABORATORY, as he wrenched the wheel desperately to avoid a crash. With split-second timing he turned to the right, past the front fender of the limousine, careened off the highway into a rest area, and skidded halfway around before coming to a stop in a cloud of dust.

The limousine jolted after him and its driver braked to a halt. He bent his head and seemed to be searching for something in the seat beside him. Neither Frank nor Joe got a good look at him, but they wasted no time. They leaped from their car and wrenched open the door of the limousine. In a split second they collared the man and wrestled him out.

“Hey, fellows, wait a minute!” the driver pleaded.
He was Smoky Rinaldo!

Frank dropped Smoky's arm. “You nearly caused a crack-up!” he said angrily.

“Is this another one of your practical jokes?” Joe almost shouted.

“Of course not,” Smoky said. “But I had to catch you, and you ignored the horn when I tried to flag you down. You wouldn't stop, so I had to make you!”

“We thought you were the guy who followed us all over Princeton,” Joe said, his anger cooling.

“I assumed you'd recognize me.”

“With that goofy cap pulled down over your face?”

“Anyway, I didn't mean to cause an accident,” Smoky went on. “I thought I could detour you into the rest area by cutting you off.”

“What did you want to stop us for?” asked Chet, who had joined the boys.

Smoky held up his hand and revealed a metal flask with Dr. Jenson's name on it. “Here, look at this!”

“What about it?” Frank asked.

“It's radioactive!” Smoky asserted.

Chet retreated hurriedly. “It might explode!”

“Radioactive material doesn't just explode,” Frank calmed him. “It takes a triggering device to start a chain reaction.”

Smoky swung his flask by its heavy top. “No fear of that. It's not even radioactive enough to kill a cockroach.”

Frank was getting irritated. “Did you chase us all the way from Princeton to tell us that?”

“No. I wanted you to know that I think Dr. Jenson was up to something.”

“Why?”

“Because I found this flask in one of the file cabinets. I was digging in some records and ran across the flask in the back of the bottom drawer. It's against regulations for anyone to take anything radioactive out of the lab.”

Smoky explained that the steel flasks were used to hold nuclear materials during experiments. When the experiment ended, the scientist conducting it was supposed to send his flasks to a storeroom lined with lead, where they would be decontaminated.

“Dr. Jenson took this one and hid it in the file,” Smoky concluded. “He shouldn't have done that.”

“Did he ever break the rules before?” Joe asked.

“I have no idea.”

“Did you tell Professor Young about it?”

“Sure. Right away.”

“What did he say?”

“He found it very odd and called you at the Nassau Club. He was informed that you had just left. Since he didn't know what arrangements you had made and whether you would go home before you left for Australia, he asked me to try to catch up with you. He also gave me a photo of Jenson for you. So I drove in the direction of Bayport. I figured I'd go down the highway for a while, and sure enough, I saw your car.”

Frank was thoughtful. “This is odd. I'm glad you caught us, Smoky.”

“One thing bothers me,” Joe said. “We searched all the files in his office and the flask was not there then.”

“It wasn't in his office. It was in the record room.” Smoky said. “In one of the general files that a number of people use. But it was Jenson's flask, all right, none of the others have any occasion to handle radioactive materials.” He looked at the three boys. “Now you're not mad any more that I cut you off?”

“Of course not. You had no choice,” Frank told him.

“Okay. I'll head back then. And good luck to you. I hope you find Dr. Jenson!” Smoky got into the limousine and drove off.

Frank, Joe, and Chet resumed their trip to Bayport and discussed the latest development.

“How about that!” Chet said. “I wonder why Jenson hid that radioactive flask in the general file?”

“Maybe he was going to smuggle it out of the lab,” Joe suggested, “to hand it over to someone on the outside. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that he wasn't kidnapped by foreign agents after all. He made a deal with them!”

Frank was doubtful. “What could anybody do with a radioactive flask?”

“I don't know. They might analyze the atomic formula from the stuff in the flask,” Joe guessed.

“Okay,” Frank gave in. “But where does that leave the warning message Smoky found under the blotter on Jenson's desk?”

“Jenson himself might have planted it there to throw people off his trail,” Chet said.

“I don't know,” Frank mused. “Suppose his kidnappers did it to mislead us after they grabbed him? And, frankly, I have my doubts about Smoky. He found the note and the bottle. Yet, Young assured us that Jenson's desk was searched. How do we know that Smoky didn't plant the stuff?”

“Aw, Frank,” Chet said impulsively, “Smoky's a nice guy. He wouldn't do anything like that.”

“Frank's right,” Joe said. “We can't take anything for granted, not even that Smoky is a nice guy.”

Chet sighed. “I don't know what to think any more. I give up.”

“Let's call Dad before we leave and ask him to check out Smoky,” Joe said. “And we'll call Professor Young to make sure he sent Smoky after us.”

Some time later the trio rolled into Bayport. The Hardys dropped Chet at the Morton farm on the outskirts of town, then continued to their house, where they were welcomed by their mother and aunt.

“I'm so glad you're back!” Mrs. Hardy said, giving them each a hug.

“Not for long,” Frank told her.

“What do you mean?”

“We're leaving for Australia tomorrow!”

“Australia? Hmph, next thing you'll be taking off for Mars,” Aunt Gertrude grumbled. “Now tell us what this is all about.”

The boys did, and Gertrude Hardy frowned. “Do you suppose this missing scientist could have been captured by headhunters?”

“I doubt it,” said Frank, keeping a straight face. “The Australian abos aren't headhunters, Aunty, and they don't run wild in Sydney.”

“I know that,” Miss Hardy snapped. “You didn't say he disappeared in Sydney.”

“Well, that's where his trail ends, anyhow.” Frank grinned and turned to his brother. “I'm going to call Professor Young.”

“Good idea,” Joe said. “I'll come with you.”

They called Princeton, and the professor verified what Smoky had told them. “We didn't check that file because Dr. Jenson seldom used it,” he said. “I'm sure it was his flask, though, because he wrote his name on it, and I know his handwriting. When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow,” Frank said. “We'll get in touch with you when we find a lead.”

When Frank put the receiver back into the cradle, Joe said, “While you're at it, would you call Mr. Ponsley? We'll have to tell him that we can't work for him.”

“Sure.” Frank dialed the man's number. “This is Frank Hardy,” he said a few seconds later. “I'm sorry we can't take the Moran assignment, but we're involved in our father's case and have to leave the country.”

Ponsley was unhappy. “That is disappointing news. I was counting on you to locate Michael,” he said. “Well, I'll have to get another detective. I need one now more than ever, because I have a new cluel”