Read All About It!
Jerry Webster came out of the pressroom with a bundle of papers under
his arm, the roar of the presses providing a background for his chant.
"Extra! Read All About It! Spindrifters Smear Smugglers! Seaman Shows
Shootin' Savvy! Simple Sap Scampers, Saves Skin! Read All About It!"
Rick snatched one of the papers. "Thanks, I will. Hey, gang, listen to
this!" He read the headline aloud. "'Seaford Gunrunners Caught.'"
Scotty took a paper, too, and read the subhead. "'New Night Movie
Camera Supplies Evidence for Surprise Raid.'" He grinned at Jerry and
Duke Barrows. "Very restrained. Not a purple adjective in the lot."
Captain Douglas let out a bellow. "Hey! You don't mention the State
Police until the second line of the story. Call a cop someone, I want
these guys pinched."
"Charge 'em with serving poison coffee," Cap'n Mike suggested. "Never
drank such a brew in my life."
Duke grinned. "That isn't coffee, skipper. It's printer's ink with
cream and sugar. Go on, Rick, or someone. Read the rest of it."
"Byline," Rick said, "by Jerry Webster, and under that it says
copyrighted by the _Morning Record_. How did you copyright it so
quickly, Duke?"
"Sent a copy air mail to the copyright office and enclosed a dollar.
The letter will go out tonight. It's standard procedure. Go on, read.
I edited Jerry's story so fast I didn't have a chance to enjoy it."
Rick read on. "'A Seaford trawler captain, four members of his crew,
and two New Yorkers were arrested tonight on gunrunning charges after
a surprise raid by State Police officers culminated a series of events
that included the wrecking of the trawler _Sea Belle_, the use of a
new invention by the two youngest members of the Spindrift Island
Foundation to photograph the transfer of arms under cover of darkness
on the high seas, the kidnapping and maltreatment of a _Morning
Record_ reporter, and a fight in the attic of the Creek House hotel
that was ended by the timely intervention of a retired sea captain.'"
Rick got the last words out with his last bit of breath.
Scotty looked at Jerry with admiration. "He's not only a distance
runner, he's a distance writer. That was a hundred-yard sentence."
"I cannot tell a lie," Jerry said modestly. "I did it with my little
dictionary. Written by an ancestor who was also famous. Noah Webster."
"'One of the most surprising disclosures,'" Rick read on, "'was the
reason for the stubborn silence of Captain Thomas Tyler, master of the
trawler _Sea Belle_, which was wrecked on Smugglers' Reef a week ago.
As reported in previous editions, Captain Tyler maintained an
obstinate silence as to the real reason for the wreck of the trawler
in the face of pleas from friends and officials. He had maintained
that he was solely responsible and that his error in judgment had been
caused by liquor. After the arrest of the smugglers, Captain Tyler
willingly told this reporter that he had discovered the smuggling
activities of Captain Bradford Marbek and Roger and James Kelso two
weeks before.'"
"That was a good guess we made," Cap'n Mike said soberly. "Poor Tom.
He was in some spot. He knew about the smuggling, but he was like we
were. Couldn't prove a thing. He could have told the police and asked
for protection, but they wouldn't have had grounds for holding Brad
and the Kelsos. They would have been free to carry out their threats
against his family inside of twenty-four hours."
"That's right," Scotty said. "But he didn't know any more than we did
what they were smuggling."
The axes of police officers had disclosed rifles, submachine guns, and
ammunition in the cases innocently labeled as sewing machines, and no
one had been more surprised than the boys.
"Thousands of guns and ammunition must have gone out before we caught
on," Rick said. "What happens to the people that received them?"
"That's not our affair," Captain Douglas told him. "Since they went to
ships and nationals of a foreign country, it's up to the Department of
State to take action, if there's going to be any."
"We filed the story with Universal Press Service," Jerry explained.
"It's all over the country by this time. Copyright by the Whiteside
_Morning Record_." He grinned. "We're modest, Duke and I."
"You are, anyway," Rick scoffed. "'Kidnapping and maltreatment of a
_Morning Record_ reporter.' Why didn't you give the reporter's name?"
Jerry turned a little red, but he said loftily, "We heroes prefer to
remain anonymous."
"Heroes is right," Duke said dryly. "You came within an inch of having
a bronze plaque erected to your memory as one who fell in line of
duty."
"What? Only bronze?" Jerry looked hurt.
Rick gave him a comradely wink. Jerry's act had brought him close to
the ranks of heroes at that, if quick thinking and nerve combined with
bad luck were any qualification. He glanced through the story quickly,
and found what the young reporter had said about his own part.
"'While attempting to gather evidence, the _Morning Record_ reporter
who figured in the case was caught by the truckmen who delivered the
arms to Creek House. After being beaten, bound, and gagged, he was
taken to the hotel. His questioning was interrupted by the arrival of
Brant and Scott.'"
And that really was modesty. Jerry had been returning from the boat
landing when he passed a big trailer truck that carried the name of a
large manufacturer of industrial castings. He thought quickly,
surprised at seeing such a vehicle in Whiteside. Such trucks always
used the shorter main route. To his positive knowledge, there was not
a single manufacturing plant on the entire shore road on which
Whiteside and Seaford were located. There was a definite chance, he
decided, that the truck might be carrying a load for Creek House. He
knew the smugglers had made fast changes in their plans, as witness
the moving up of the ship sailing. There was a strong possibility they
had been forced to ask for immediate shipment of contraband, too.
Jerry passed the truck and stopped at the newspaper long enough to
scrawl a note to Duke, explaining what had happened, then he passed
the truck again and drove furiously toward Seaford. He went by Salt
Creek Bridge and parked his car in a pasture, then ran back to the
bridge, made his way into the marsh and waited.
The trailer truck arrived, stopped, and put out flares, and three men
got out. They jacked up the rear wheels of the trailer, then started
to unload. By so doing, they had a perfect reason for being there. If
a police car came along, they had only to explain that they had broken
an axle and were replacing it, and that they had taken out part of
their cargo to lighten the load until repairs were completed.
The stage was no sooner set than up the river came the flatboat from
Creek House. It pushed its way into the marsh, toward Jerry. Not until
the actual loading started did he discover his bad luck. He had taken
a fairly well-defined path into the marsh. The path was artificial,
made by the Kelsos. They had carried rocks to make both the path and
the stone jetty to which the flatboat had come. The deception had
worked, because the path and jetty surfaces, strong enough to carry
the weight of men with heavy cases, were under an inch of mud and
water!
Jerry had described the end simply. "They fell over me. I tried to get
away, but there were too many of them."
But he had gotten in one good blow. His hand closed over one of the
rocks of the path and he swung it effectively. The State Police,
hearing his story, made a routine check of doctors and hospitals along
the route the truck probably had taken; they assumed it would not turn
around on the narrow shore road. The trucker Jerry had felled was in a
small clinic two towns below Seaford, and an interstate alarm had gone
out for the others, giving license numbers and descriptions supplied
by the reporter. They wouldn't get far.
Jerry's luck had been bad, but Captain Douglas' luck had been good.
The accumulated evidence probably would have been enough, but one of
Brad's seamen had talked, hoping for a lighter sentence.
Rick was most pleased to find that his theory about Smugglers' Light
had been close to the truth. The marks on the old tower had been made
by a powerful light supplied by Brad Marbek. The light, once used for
night purse seine fishing, was powered by a carbon arc. A cable,
connected into the same junction box that supplied Smugglers' Reef
Light, had furnished the power. The police officers had found signs of
tampering in the junction box, but they had called the authorities
responsible for the light to make a definite check. The light itself
had been stowed in Brad Marbek's home. One quarter of the cylinder had
been blacked out with paint. Red cellophane was pasted on to another
quarter.
There were still no answers to who had phoned the warning to Rick, or
why Carrots had trailed them into Whiteside, but those things weren't
important, anyway. Probably their original guesses had been right.
The others had fallen silent, engrossed in reading Jerry's story. Rick
went through it again, more carefully. The young reporter had done
well. It was an exciting yarn. Then he looked at the "side pieces,"
other stories dealing with the case, written by both Duke and Jerry in
the feverish rush to make the morning paper. There was a simple
statement by Captain Killian, who long since was asleep in his own bed
at Seaford. There was a photo of Rick and Scotty with the infrared
camera and a story by Duke of its use in the collecting of evidence.
The staff photographer had taken that one after they all returned to
Whiteside, accompanying the police and the prisoners to jail. The
entire back page was devoted to pictures, some reproductions from
Rick's movie and some taken at the jail by the staff photographer.
There was one of Cap'n Mike holding Carrots' rifle, and the caption
explained how he had rescued the boys.
"How much per column inch did you say?" Rick asked Duke slyly.
"Too much. This will bankrupt me."
Scotty folded his paper. "We'd better get back to Spindrift, Rick."
"That's right." Rick knew his folks would be waiting to see the paper,
too. He had phoned them as soon as they reached the jail.
"I'll take you to the landing," Jerry offered, "then I'll run Cap'n
Mike down to Seaford."
"Never mind," Captain Douglas said. "I have a patrol car going down
that way in fifteen minutes. It can drop him off."
Cap'n Mike shook hands with both of the boys. "I'll see you tomorrow,
I reckon."
"In the afternoon," Rick said. "We'll sleep in the morning." After the
fight at Creek House, Cap'n Mike had rowed them to the Spindrift
speedboat in his dory. They had gotten their clothes, but left the
boat at the hotel. It would be safe; police officers would keep an eye
on it while guarding the load of arms.
Captain Douglas shook hands, too. "I should make a speech," he told
them with a smile. "You know, about your both being good citizens,
aiding the police at risk of life and limb and so on...."
Rick grinned sheepishly. "I'm afraid we weren't thinking about the
citizen part of it, Captain. We just...."
"I was about to add that." Captain Douglas laughed. "But thanks,
anyway."
Duke Barrows said, "I don't suppose you would accept the coffee we
served you as part payment?"
Scotty snorted. "Aren't you the one said it wasn't coffee?"
"All right." Duke's shoulders slumped. "Drive me into debt paying you
off. Go ahead."
"We will," Rick retorted, "and don't take the price of these papers
you gave us off the amount, either."
The editor laughed. "Okay. Take them home, Jerry. They'll have to wait
until the first of the month for their money, just like the rest of
our creditors. So long, kids, and thanks a million for a swell story."
As they drove to the landing, Rick glanced quizzically at Jerry.
"Well, you asked for it. Remember?"
Jerry was puzzled.
"The night we went to get a story on the wreck," Scotty explained.
"Didn't you say you wished you would get in on an adventure with us?"
"I certainly did. I didn't know what I was asking for, believe me."
Jerry's grin widened. He touched his head tenderly, patting the
bruises he had collected. Then he laughed. "I was scared silly, but
you know, I kind of enjoyed it!"
Rick and Scotty broke into laughter, too.
* * * * *
Rick was figuring out some changes in the infrared camera attachment
on the following Monday when Scotty came into the room.
"Just got back from Whiteside with the paper and the mail," he
announced. "And look at this!" He indicated an item on the front page.
It was a Universal News Service dispatch. Authorities of a republic in
the Caribbean had arrested the country's former dictator on a charge
of planning a revolution, pointing to a large cache of arms and
ammunition found on his estate as evidence. Arrested for complicity
was the president of the Compania Maritima Caribe y Atlantica.
Warrants were being issued for a number of others.
"That settles that," Rick said. "Looks like we stopped a revolution!"
"We're the kids what did it," Scotty boasted. He dropped a letter in
front of Rick. "Got this, too. Look who it's from."
The postmark was Bombay. It was from Chahda, the first letter since
the Hindu boy had left them in New Caledonia to return to India.
"He's fine," Scotty said. "I read it at the post office. His brothers
and sisters didn't believe some of his stories, but he's convincing
them. Also, he's going to work. He can't tell us yet what his job will
be, because it's a sort of secret."
"Then he won't come back to America for a while," Rick said,
disappointed. "We won't see him." He grinned, remembering the first
time they had met Chahda. "He's probably at Crawford Market right now,
bargaining at the top of his lungs for something." He picked up the
letter and started to read, picturing Chahda, in his native dress once
more, at home in Bombay.
* * * * *
Rick's mental image was far from the truth. As he read the letter,
Chahda was writing to Rick and Scotty again, but this time he was
composing an urgent cable, laboriously working over the cipher that
would conceal its content from his strange enemy.
The Hindu boy was in the hiding place he had chosen deep in the Indian
quarter of Singapore, but he knew it was only a temporary refuge. Once
he emerged, the shadow would find him again. But if he could succeed
in getting to the cable office first, Rick and Scotty would get his
message, and they would come. Once the three of them were united
again, let the shadow do as it would!
Chahda finished his composition, folded it and tucked it securely into
his turban, then he slipped through a door into the darkness of the
Singapore night. In his ciphered message was the key to an adventure
that would plunge his American friends into both darkness and danger
in the fabled, terrifying Caves of Korse Lenken, a story to be related
in the next volume,
THE CAVERNS OF FEAR.
* * * * *
THE RICK BRANT
Science-Adventure Stories
BY JOHN BLAINE
Rick Brant and his pal, Scotty, have the kind of adventures all boys
would like to have. They live on an island called Spindrift where
Rick's father heads a group of scientists working in the field of
electronics. Here and abroad, the boys encounter many thrilling
adventures and solve many baffling mysteries.
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
Grosset & Dunlap _Publishers_
NEW YORK 10, N.Y.
* * * * *
THE KEN HOLT MYSTERY STORIES
By Bruce Campbell
Ken Holt, son of a world-famous foreign correspondent, and Sandy
Allen, of the redheaded Allen clan, join forces at a time when Ken is
very much in need of help. They fall into the thick of a mystery as
readily as a duck takes to water, and no sooner are they on the scent
than the suspense begins to mount and every reader knows he is in for
a thrilling time.
THE SECRET OF SKELETON ISLAND
Ken and Sandy solve the mystery of the strange goings-on at the
exclusive resort on Skeleton Island.
THE RIDDLE OF THE STONE ELEPHANT
In Colorado gathering data for Ken's dad about an old lawsuit between
two ranchmen over water rights, Ken and Sandy find every move
thwarted, every action watched.
THE BLACK THUMB MYSTERY
Ken and Sandy prove the innocence of a banker who has been found
guilty of conspiracy in a robbery. The boys track down many clues
before they discover the motive behind the sinister plot.
THE CLUE OF THE MARKED CLAW
Vacationing in a fishing village on Long Island, Ken and Sandy play an
unexpected part in the capture of a dangerous ring of smugglers.
GROSSET & DUNLAP
Publishers of WORDS: _The New Dictionary_
NEW YORK 10, N. Y.
* * * * *
THE HARDY BOYS
_Mystery Stories_
By FRANKLIN N. DIXON
All boys from 11 to 15 who like lively adventure stories, packed with
mystery and action, will want to read every one of the exciting Hardy
Boys stories listed below. Sons of a famous American detective, the
Hardy boys help solve many thrilling mysteries after school hours and
during vacations, as they follow up the clues they unearth in their
quest to bring criminals to justice.
_Now Available:_
1. THE TOWER TREASURE
2. THE HOUSE ON THE CLIFF
3. THE SECRET OF THE OLD MILL
4. THE MISSING CHUMS
5. HUNTING FOR HIDDEN GOLD
6. THE SHORE ROAD MYSTERY
7. THE SECRET OF THE CAVES
8. THE MYSTERY OF CABIN ISLAND
9. THE GREAT AIRPORT MYSTERY
10. WHAT HAPPENED AT MIDNIGHT
11. WHILE THE CLOCK TICKED
12. FOOTPRINTS UNDER THE WINDOW
13. THE MARK ON THE DOOR
14. THE HIDDEN HARBOR MYSTERY
15. THE SINISTER SIGN POST
16. A FIGURE IN HIDING
17. THE SECRET WARNING
18. THE TWISTED CLAW
19. THE DISAPPEARING FLOOR
20. THE MYSTERY OF THE FLYING EXPRESS
21. THE CLUE OF THE BROKEN BLADE
22. THE FLICKERING TORCH MYSTERY
23. THE MELTED COINS
24. THE SHORT-WAVE MYSTERY
25. THE SECRET PANEL
26. THE PHANTOM FREIGHTER
27. THE SECRET OF SKULL MOUNTAIN
28. SIGN OF THE CROOKED ARROW
29. THE SECRET OF THE LOST TUNNEL
30. THE WAILING SIREN MYSTERY
G R O S S E T & D U N L A P _Publishers_ N E W Y O R K
* * * * *
_The_ RICK BRANT SCIENCE-ADVENTURE _Stories_
BY JOHN BLAINE
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
* * * * *