“Oh, yes, it’s Uncle Val. I finally got as close to him as I am to you two. It’s him, yes, for sure. He . . . I don’t know . . . he was a . . . what do they call it? . . . A decoy, a stalking horse. He led me right into the trap.”
Cole said, “What did the old boy have to say about it?”
“Nothing, he never spoke. He only stood by; then he went away, and Danker, if that’s his name, had me brought in here.”
“Why would your uncle be cooperating with these lads? It’s beginning to smell as though we’re in a nest of saboteurs and spies.”
“Since you’re here,” said Jennifer, “you must have been told some of what I told Mr. Smith. My uncle, at the time he disappeared, was working on a disk-like information-gathering craft. A ship that could fly in low, virtually undetected by any existing equipment, and obtain photos of anything from a gun installation to a war plant. The ship was extremely maneuverable and compact. It would carry a single man, or could be radio-controlled. The government—our government, I mean—was very interested. And then Uncle Val disappeared.”
“So you think your uncle built these black chariots that have been awing the locals?”
“When I read the single account in the paper, I thought of Uncle Val at once,” said Jennifer. “You know the rest, I imagine.”
Nellie said, “You’re pretty certain he’s working with these fellows of his own free will.”
“What else can I think?”
Cole was watching the ceiling. “I don’t detect any listening devices, but one can never be sure,” he said. “I think I’d better make our call right now, pixie.”
“Yes, do.”
“Call?” said Jennifer.
“When the heavy-handed minions of Danker frisked us,” explained Cole, “they fortunately neglected to find the two-way radio I carry in my belt. If you’ll excuse me.” He unbuttoned his jacket, and then undid his belt.
CHAPTER XIV
Conversations
“Did you hear about the little moron who shot his father and mother so he—”
“Can it,” said Heinz. He and Moron were sharing a cell in the Manzana jail.
“Only merely trying to keep up morale,” said the little man. “Humor is a very important tool when—”
“Yes, yes, enough.” The fat man was sitting on his cot, head held in both hands.
“Still trying to remember, huh?”
Heinz said, “I know he used something on us.”
“Okay, but maybe it was only to knock us out.”
“The Avenger is trickier than that,” said the fat man. “No, I’m relatively certain he used something to make us talk.”
“I don’t remember nothing like that, Heinz.”
“You probably don’t even remember what you had for breakfast, so it hardly—”
“A bowl of Kellogg’s Pep, coffee, and a maple bar.”
Heinz, swatting the air with his hand, said, “Stop interrupting me, Moron. I . . . yes, I have the distinct impression of telling the Avenger things.”
The smaller man shrugged his left shoulder. “So what? It ain’t like you knew much.”
“I know a good deal more than either you or that nonentity Trumbull,” Heinz told him. “I know who hired me, who I was reporting to and getting orders from. It seems . . . I have the feeling I told him about that.”
“I keep wondering who the brains was. Who was it?”
“No, there’s no need for you to know.”
“What’s the diff now, Heinz? We’re both in the pokey, not likely to go breezing out until the duration plus six. So confide a little, huh?”
“If I did tell the Avenger, it was against my will. That’s the only way I’d betray a confidence.”
“The way you talk, it’s like we ain’t in the same business, you know.” Moron leaned against the adobe wall of their cell. “Okay, suppose you did tell this Avenger guy who the head cheese is . . . Is that so bad?”
“The people we’ve been working for, Moron, it isn’t wise to doublecross them,” said the fat man. “Although the man I dealt with was not actually the leader, he
Cole said, “What did the old boy have to say about it?”
“Nothing, he never spoke. He only stood by; then he went away, and Danker, if that’s his name, had me brought in here.”
“Why would your uncle be cooperating with these lads? It’s beginning to smell as though we’re in a nest of saboteurs and spies.”
“Since you’re here,” said Jennifer, “you must have been told some of what I told Mr. Smith. My uncle, at the time he disappeared, was working on a disk-like information-gathering craft. A ship that could fly in low, virtually undetected by any existing equipment, and obtain photos of anything from a gun installation to a war plant. The ship was extremely maneuverable and compact. It would carry a single man, or could be radio-controlled. The government—our government, I mean—was very interested. And then Uncle Val disappeared.”
“So you think your uncle built these black chariots that have been awing the locals?”
“When I read the single account in the paper, I thought of Uncle Val at once,” said Jennifer. “You know the rest, I imagine.”
Nellie said, “You’re pretty certain he’s working with these fellows of his own free will.”
“What else can I think?”
Cole was watching the ceiling. “I don’t detect any listening devices, but one can never be sure,” he said. “I think I’d better make our call right now, pixie.”
“Yes, do.”
“Call?” said Jennifer.
“When the heavy-handed minions of Danker frisked us,” explained Cole, “they fortunately neglected to find the two-way radio I carry in my belt. If you’ll excuse me.” He unbuttoned his jacket, and then undid his belt.
CHAPTER XIV
Conversations
“Did you hear about the little moron who shot his father and mother so he—”
“Can it,” said Heinz. He and Moron were sharing a cell in the Manzana jail.
“Only merely trying to keep up morale,” said the little man. “Humor is a very important tool when—”
“Yes, yes, enough.” The fat man was sitting on his cot, head held in both hands.
“Still trying to remember, huh?”
Heinz said, “I know he used something on us.”
“Okay, but maybe it was only to knock us out.”
“The Avenger is trickier than that,” said the fat man. “No, I’m relatively certain he used something to make us talk.”
“I don’t remember nothing like that, Heinz.”
“You probably don’t even remember what you had for breakfast, so it hardly—”
“A bowl of Kellogg’s Pep, coffee, and a maple bar.”
Heinz, swatting the air with his hand, said, “Stop interrupting me, Moron. I . . . yes, I have the distinct impression of telling the Avenger things.”
The smaller man shrugged his left shoulder. “So what? It ain’t like you knew much.”
“I know a good deal more than either you or that nonentity Trumbull,” Heinz told him. “I know who hired me, who I was reporting to and getting orders from. It seems . . . I have the feeling I told him about that.”
“I keep wondering who the brains was. Who was it?”
“No, there’s no need for you to know.”
“What’s the diff now, Heinz? We’re both in the pokey, not likely to go breezing out until the duration plus six. So confide a little, huh?”
“If I did tell the Avenger, it was against my will. That’s the only way I’d betray a confidence.”
“The way you talk, it’s like we ain’t in the same business, you know.” Moron leaned against the adobe wall of their cell. “Okay, suppose you did tell this Avenger guy who the head cheese is . . . Is that so bad?”
“The people we’ve been working for, Moron, it isn’t wise to doublecross them,” said the fat man. “Although the man I dealt with was not actually the leader, he
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