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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

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BOOK: The Firebird Rocket
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“Hey, what say we meet those young ladies over there?” he said.
“Sounds great,” Frank agreed. “I'll invite them to our table.” He got up and soon returned with the girls in tow.
“Hi,” said the pretty blond right behind Frank. “I'm Hedy Hollweg. My friends are Pat Morrison and Jane Linski.”
The boys introduced themselves and asked the girls to dance. Frank paired off with Hedy, Joe with Pat, and Chet asked Jane. After a while, they went back to the table, and animated conversation followed.
“We're freshmen at Princeton,” Hedy said, “and are studying American literature. What are you doing here? I haven't noticed you on campus.”
“Detective work!” Chet boomed. “I've solved a lot of cases with the help of the Hardys!”
Frank and Joe grinned. They were used to having Chet brag a little, especially in front of girls.
The coeds were intrigued. They bombarded the boys with questions about crime investigation.
“You must be here on an important case,” Jane surmised.
Chet opened his mouth but Frank kicked his foot under the table as a signal to keep quiet about Dr. Jenson. Joe changed the subject. “How do you girls like Princeton?”
“It's great!” Hedy said. “I'm glad they let coeds in.”
Pat nodded vigorously. “This is one thing Women's Lib did for us. Princeton used to be for men only. But no more!”
“Personally, I wouldn't want to go to a school that excludes girls,” Chet said, eying Jane appreciatively. He smiled at her. “Would you like to dance?”
The young people had a fun-filled evening, and when they finally said good-by to each other, the Bayporters thanked the girls for their pleasant company. Then Hedy, Pat, and Jane went to their dorm while the Hardys and Chet walked up to their room. Soon they were fast asleep.
A sudden noise woke Joe in the middle of the night. It came from the alley below their room. Throwing off his blanket, he got out of bed and padded silently to the window.
A pebble landed squarely on the pane. Joe peered over the sill into the darkness. He could barely see a figure on the ground below, throwing another pebble, and another.
Joe pushed the window open. “Hey, what do you want?” he whispered loudly.
“Joe! It's me, Smoky. I've got something for you!” was the reply.
“Okay, come up the fire escape,” Joe said.
As Smoky climbed up the rungs of the ladder, Joe roused Frank and Chet. “We have a visitor,” he told them. “It's Smoky.”
“At this time of night?” mumbled Chet, who was still foggy with sleep.
“Strange time for a visit, all right,” Joe agreed.
Smoky clambered in through the open window.
“What's wrong with the front door?” Frank grumbled.
“They lock the place up at night,” Smoky explained, “and I didn't want to cause a disturbance.”
“There's also the telephone,” Chet pointed out.
“I know. But I didn't want to call because I have something to show you. I—”
“How did you know this was our room?” Frank interrupted.
“It was the only vacant one before you came,” Smoky answered. “There was no other place for them to put you in.”
“Smoky, I think you're crazy. Do you know what time it is?” Joe asked.
“Hey, don't get mad. I'm trying to help you!” “Why couldn't it wait till morning?”
“Because I've got to get some sleep. I've worked in the lab till now and I have an exam at noon. By the time I would be able to call you, you'd be gone.”
“All right. What have you got?” Frank asked.
Smoky withdrew a sheet from his pocket and held it up for them to read. “Look at this!” he said.
A row of words had been cut out of a magazine and glued onto the paper, just as in the threatening note Professor Young had received. It read:
The Firebird will never fly!
Frank, Joe, and Chet were flabbergasted by the message, which seemed to leap at them from the paper.
“Where did you get this?” Frank asked Smoky.
“It was under the blotter on Dr. Jenson's desk,” the boy replied. “He keeps memos there. As I told you, I worked late on the reactor, and I needed to clear up a problem about the power transmission. I thought Dr. Jenson might have left a memo on it, since we talked about it recently. So I looked under the blotter and found this paper instead.”
“Any idea how it got there?” Frank inquired.
“None. But I know that Dr. Jenson's missing and figured you're investigating. I couldn't help hearing that much when you thought I was eavesdropping in the corridor. I decided I'd better get this message to you pronto. I'll let Professor Young know about it in the morning.”
“Thanks for your trouble,” said Frank. “This could be important.”
“Professor Young told us Jenson's desk was searched for clues when he disappeared,” Joe said. “How come it didn't turn up then?”
“Must've been put under his blotter after that,” Frank guessed. He shot a questioning glance at their visitor, waiting to hear his comment.
“Strange time for a visit,” Joe said
.
Smoky shrugged. “It could easily have been overlooked, because it was between a couple of memos. Well, I'd better be going. I have to get some rest or I'll flunk my exam tomorrow.”
The boy jumped on the windowsill and swiveled his legs onto the fire escape. He climbed down into the alley and seconds later vanished behind the buildings.
Frank placed the puzzling message on the table under the light of the lamp and the boys studied the warning.
“What do you make of it?” Frank asked his two companions.
“The way it reads,” Chet declared, “this could be a threat or just a straight message.”
“Why cut out words to send someone a message?” Frank objected. “Why not just write it?”
“To avoid having your own writing recognized.”
“Sure, but
whose
own writing?” said Frank. “Are you saying Jenson himself is a phony or a traitor?”
“Well, he must be,” Chet argued, “if this is his work.”
“Yeah. If! That's the question,” said Joe.
“There's no way to tell. If you ask me, our first problem is, How did this get under Jenson's blotter after he disappeared?”
Frank glanced at his brother. “You think Smoky's lying?”
“Let's just say we have no reason to trust him so far.”
“Maybe not. On the other hand, the message could have been overlooked, as he says.”
“That's right,” Chet added. “Jenson may have put it under his blotter and forgotten about it. Perhaps he didn't take the warning seriously.”
“Boy, the situation looks serious now,” Chet said. “If NASA goes ahead with the Firebird launching, it may be curtains for both Young and Jenson.”
“For all we know,” Joe warned, “it may have been curtains for Dr. Jenson already!”
CHAPTER VI
A Ghostly Hand
CHET gulped. There was silence for a moment.
Then Frank said, “We don't have much time to solve this case. Professor Young said the Firebird will be launched in a couple of weeks.”
“From the Space Flight Center,” Joe added. “Maybe Dad's onto something down there. Let's call him in the morning and find out.”
The boys went back to sleep and were up bright and early. After breakfast they found the maid cleaning their room, which prevented them from using the phone. They decided to use the club phone in the basement.
Frank and Joe squeezed into the booth and shut the door, while Chet stood guard outside in case any suspicious character tried to listen in. Joe dialed SFC-1234, the hot-line number Mr. Hardy had given them for top-secret phone calls.
A woman's voice answered. “This is Space Flight Center Control,” she said crisply. “Please identify yourself and the party you wish to speak to.”
“Frank and Joe Hardy,” Joe said. “We'd like to speak to Fenton Hardy.”
“Oh, yes. I've been alerted that you have clearance. But Mr. Hardy isn't here.”
“Can you tell us when he'll be back?” Joe asked.
“Sorry, but I don't know. Mr. Hardy wasn't in yesterday, either, and he hasn't phoned. Would you like to leave a message for him?”
“Yes. Please tell him to call us at the Aerospace Lab or at the Nassau Club in Princeton as soon as possible.”
Leaving the phone booth, the Hardys told Chet they had failed to reach Mr. Hardy.
“Where do you suppose he's gone?” said Chet.
Frank shrugged. “He may be following up an outside clue or keeping someone under surveillance. Maybe that's why he hasn't had a chance to phone.”
“So what do we do now?” Chet asked.
“Let's go over to the lab and start talking to people,” Joe said.
“Okay, but how about stopping at the library on the way?” Frank suggested. “I'd like to bone up a little on Australia. When Professor Young was telling us about Woomera yesterday, I realized how little I know about that whole continent.”
“Same here,” said Joe. “I guess we could all do with a quick fill-in on the scene down under. Who knows, it might even suggest another angle on the case to us!”
The three set out across the campus, passing students and professors on the way.
The university library was a stone building, three stories high. At the desk inside, Frank asked where they could find books about Australia. “On C Floor,” an assistant told him. “Three stories down. You can take the stairs or the elevator.”
“I don't know about you,” Chet declared, “but I'll ride.”
The Hardys followed him into the elevator, and Frank pressed the button. The doors closed, and they descended to the bottom floor, where a wall chart guided them to the left. Following the numbers that marked the shelves, they came to the section on Australia.
Each of the boys grabbed an armful of books, which he carried to a large circular table. They sat down and began to turn the pages, flipping through to the chapters and illustrations that interested them. Frank concentrated on geography and history, Joe and Chet on the people.
“I'm going to see if I can find something specific on Woomera,” Joe said finally and stood up. He returned his stack of books to their places. Then he scanned those on the shelf beneath. As he reached for one, a ghostly hand appeared from the opposite side! It clamped around Joe's wrist and held tight!
Startled, the younger Hardy boy pushed a big volume out of the way with his free hand and looked through the opening. A young man grinned at him.
“Smoky Rinaldo!” Joe exploded.
“I couldn't resist it,” Smoky said. “I'm a great practical joker, you know.”
“Some joke,” Joe grumbled. “You scared me half to death.”
“I didn't mean to,” Smoky said. “Sorry.”
“What are you doing here anyway?” Joe asked. “I thought you wanted to get enough sleep to be fresh for your exam?”
“I woke up early so I came here to do some research. By the way, you're being watched.”
“What?”
Smoky jerked a thumb in the direction behind Joe, who whirled around in time to spot an indistinct figure sneaking furtively between the stacks.
“I didn't get a good look at him,” Smoky said, “but he seemed to be eavesdropping on you before, when you all sat at the table.”
“I'm going after him!” Joe decided. “Want to come?”
“Sure thing.”
Smoky and Joe met at the end of the stack. There was no time to alert Frank and Chet, since the man was hastening toward the exit.
Joe saw a ray of light reflected by tinted glasses. It was the man who had been shadowing them at the lab! He darted into the elevator and pushed the button. Joe and Smoky ran after him. He glowered savagely as they drew near, and then the elevator doors closed in their faces. The boys ran around to the stairs and took two steps at a time to the main floor, where they almost bumped into Professor Young!
“It's lucky you're here, professor,” Joe blurted, and quickly described their pursuit of the bearded man with the tinted glasses.
“I saw him!” Young declared. “He got out of the elevator and went up to the next floor. You may be able to catch him!”
The boys rushed up, found no one on the second floor, and continued to the top. There was no sign of the man anywhere! Joe and Smoky asked a group of students if they had seen him. No one had.
“He must have gone down the back stairs,” said a girl.
BOOK: The Firebird Rocket
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