The Sky Phantom (7 page)

He might have said more in a jocular vein, but just then Pop and Chuck walked up. Suddenly it occurred to Range that the girls’ faces were tear-stained, Pop and Chuck looked somber, and none of them responded to his lightheartedness.

“What happened?” he asked.

When he heard about Speed Boy, Range, too, became sad. “He was a fine pony. This will be a big loss to the Hamilton Ranch. I’m sorry, Pop.”

“Thank you,” said the rancher. “Also for getting George’s pony back. And now I think we should all head for bed.”

Bess spoke. “Aren’t you afraid the thief may return?”

“I doubt it,” Pop replied. “I think he shot Speed Boy because the pony attacked him. He won’t try any more thievery.”

Range was not so sure of this. He repeated what had happened as he had approached the thief. “So he has not only his one pony, but a companion who also had a mount. The two of them may decide to come back together.”

“Oh, no!” Bess cried out. “You mustn’t let them! They might shoot another one of our ponies!”

They persuaded Pop to set up a watch for the remainder of the night.

“It will not be many hours until daybreak,” he said. “We would leave before then. You young folks go to sleep, and I’ll keep my eye open for that ornery thief.”

Chuck and Range would not hear of this arrangement. “We’ll take turns, same as we did before,” Range said.

The ranch owner was adamant. He said, “As soon as we get to the ranch, you boys will have to get to work. Me, now—” he smiled a little—“I can take a rest. You get yours now.”

There was no more conversation, and soon everyone except Pop and Nancy was sound asleep. Nancy snuggled into her sleeping bag, but lay staring up at the sky. She wished she had been able to get a better look at the thief. Who was he? Just a wanderer who stole horses whenever he had a chance?

The girl detective put this thought out of her mind. “I have a strong hunch,” she told herself, “that he’s after bigger stakes than stealing horses. Somehow or other he’s connected with the mystery I’m trying to solve. Oh well, maybe someday I’ll find out.”

She turned over and dozed off. When Pop’s cheerful whistle came to awaken the camp, it seemed to her that dawn had arrived very soon. All the girls were bleary-eyed, since they were not used to such early rising hours. The ride to the ranch in the invigorating, clear morning air thoroughly awakened them, however. In a little over three hours they reached the Hamilton Ranch, where an appetizing breakfast awaited them.

Bess asked Nancy afterwards if she had made any plans for the girls that day. The young detective shook her head. “I thought I’d work on this silver medal and try to decipher the strange figures on it.”

Bess and George were eager to help. All three girls copied the symbols on pieces of paper and then tried to figure out their meaning.

After twenty minutes had gone by with no results, Nancy suddenly snapped her fingers.

“I just thought of something!” she said. “One of the detective books I was reading had a chapter on handwriting. I recall that in one place it said that the lowest part of the letters in any word or sentence is extremely difficult to figure out.

“Possibly these queer-looking marks are the bottoms of letters. Let’s see what we can make out of them.”

Once more the three girls went to work. They covered several sheets of paper, trying to evolve full letters out of the symbols. Again there was complete silence for a long time.

Then suddenly Bess cried out, excited, “I think the second and third words are—‘bomb site’!”

“BOMB SITE?” Nancy repeated. “It doesn’t mean anything to me. Where? What?”

“I know what it means to me,” Bess exclaimed fearfully. “We might be blown sky high!”

She insisted on telling Pop Hamilton about this at once, and rushed off.

Nancy and George were not frightened. The message did not indicate the bomb site was local. The girls continued to work on the puzzling message.

A few minutes later Nancy said, “I have the word before ‘bomb site.’ ”

“What is it?” George asked.

“Revolution!” the young detective replied.

George was stunned. “You’re right. I got as far as ‘rev,’ Nancy. The mystery is getting deeper.”

Bess returned, saying she could not find Pop Hamilton. She was shocked when she heard the word “revolution.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t stay here,” she said.

Nancy suggested that they all hunt for Pop, perhaps on horseback. The three girls searched for him, but could not locate the rancher. They finally concluded that he had ridden far out on the range.

“I guess we’ll have to wait until tonight,” Bess said. “But I admit I’m scared silly.”

A few minutes later Chuck rode in. He greeted the girls, said he had come only to pick up some tools, and was going right back to where the boys were working.

“We’re mending a fence,” he told them. Then, looking at Bess, he asked, “How about your getting a pony and riding up there with me?”

The girl’s mood changed completely. In the wink of an eye she had forgotten her discovery and the worry about the words “revolution” and “bomb site.”

She ran back to the ranch house to change her riding pants, which she had torn, and was ready by the time Chuck finished his errand. The two rode off, laughing.

Nancy and George looked at each other and grinned. They would have to continue to decipher the words on the back of the medal without Bess’s assistance!

The two girls continued to puzzle over the rest of the strange symbols, which they believed were also parts of words. They assumed that the balance of the message followed the same pattern—each symbol was the lowest quarter of a letter. There was total silence in the room as Nancy and George used more sheets of scratch paper trying to figure out other words from the marks etched into the medal. Finally Nancy did find one.

“The word below ‘bomb site’ is ‘under,’” she stated.

“Good,” said George. “But ‘under’ what? Now the whole thing is becoming very complicated. Where is the revolution bomb site?”

Nancy happened to glance out of the window. The men were just coming in from their work. Chuck and Bess trailed behind. Pop had already turned his pony over to Pete and was heading toward the ranch house.

“Now’s our chance to talk to him,” Nancy said. “Come on!”

The two girls hurried outside and met Pop as he walked to the house.

Nancy asked, “Did you talk to Bess?”

The rancher shook his head. “Is there any reason why I should have?”

Nancy told him about the words “revolution, bomb site,” and “under” on the back of the silver medal. Pop listened politely, but shrugged off the idea that the medal and message had anything to do with the area near Hamilton Ranch.

“There’s absolutely nothing around here to bomb, and not enough people to start a revolution,” he said. “The strange message must refer to some other locale.”

Nancy and George had to admit that there was logic in what he said, but as they walked off, both of them felt he might be wrong. Why had the medal been dropped in this area, perhaps by the person flying Roger Paine’s plane?

“I only hope,” said George, “that the bomb site is a good distance away from the Hamilton Ranch.”

“And the Excello Flying School,” Nancy added.

Both girls believed that if they could decipher more of the strange symbols on the medal, they would be able to pinpoint the exact location.

The three girls had no time to work on the puzzle the following morning. Bess and George had horseback-riding dates, and Nancy was to take a flying lesson.

She met Bruce on schedule and soon was in the pilot’s seat of the Excello craft. As she raced down the runway for a takeoff, the girl detective asked, “Okay if we aim for the mystery spot, Bruce?”

He grinned. “You don’t give up easily, do you? But I admit I’m just as anxious as you to see the kidnapping case solved. So go ahead.”

As they approached the area where the big cloud was, they spotted an oncoming plane.

Bruce said, “Roger’s craft is equipped with a radio that can be tuned to UNICOM. I’ll see if I can raise him.”

He turned to a frequency of 122.8 megacycles. There was no response to his call, but the plane was getting closer.

“You’d better climb!” Bruce said.

Nancy pulled gently on the stick and climbed a hundred feet above the path of the oncoming plane. She asked Bruce to look through the binoculars to see if he could identify the other craft.

He did so and exclaimed, “That’s Roger’s plane all right! But I can’t understand why it doesn’t answer me!”

Nancy replied, “If the mysterious sky phantom is the pilot, he won’t answer you!”

The stranger began a wide turn, which took him to the far side of the big cloud.

Nancy also banked and turned for a chase. As they came near the cloud, she and Bruce were just in time to see Paine’s plane disappear inside the mysterious formation.

“Now what are we going to do?” Nancy asked. “Just keep going round and round until whoever is in there is forced out or pleads for help?”

The flying instructor did not reply at once. At last he said, “Roger’s plane is larger than this one and has more fuel capacity. We’d probably run out of gas before he would. Perhaps we should land near the spot where he leaves his plane and watch.”

Before Nancy had a chance to figure out her approach pattern, she encountered a strong tail-wind and turbulence that forced her directly underneath the cloud.

“Oh!” Nancy cried out, bewildered. “Bruce, quick! Take the controls!”

He did so, but just avoided a collision with Roger Paine’s craft, which shot out of the cloud. It quickly rose above the turbulence and went off. Bruce followed the same procedure, but did not attempt to chase the other plane.

When Nancy’s heart stopped thumping, she said, “Can we go back inside the big cloud and see if we can pick up a clue to why the sky phantom hid in there? Evidently it’s not so dangerous as people say.”

Bruce nodded. He turned again and flew directly into the cloud. They went round the edges of the vapory mass and down to the center. There was nothing to be seen.

“I guess it’s just a hiding place for the sky phantom,” Bruce said and made another turn, going into a different section of the giant cloud.

Suddenly, dead ahead, they came face to face with a strange sight. The dark outline of a giant! The face was grizzly looking and indistinct.

“What is it?” Nancy asked, wondering if this was some great creature that might attack them. Bruce passed it and laughed at Nancy’s fear.

“Would you like Sir Galahad Bruce Fisher to run him through?” he asked.

The remark made Nancy grin. She imagined the young pilot wearing a medieval coat of armor with pilot wings on the breastplate. Without hesitation she said, “Yes, Sir Galahad, run him through!”

Turning, Bruce approached the dark, menacing giant and whipped down the center of it. Now the pilot came out of the great cloud.

“Had enough excitement?” he asked his pupil, who was staring ahead, unable to believe what she had just seen.

Nancy shook her head. “Please, Bruce, let’s go back inside the cloud and see if the black giant disappeared. What was it, anyway?”

Bruce said it was a midget storm cloud held in place by the larger white formation. The obliging teacher went down under the cloud and again swooped up into it.

To his and Nancy’s amazement, the storm cloud had reassembled. Now it looked like an infuriated lion ready to attack!

“This is an interesting phenomenon,” Bruce remarked. “I believe the storm cloud is made of infinitesimal bits of magnetic particles.”

Wondering what form the black vapory mass might take next, Nancy decided they should pierce it and find out.

“Okay, my lady, your wish is my command,” Bruce said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Here we go!”

Nancy grinned, but a few seconds later her face froze. Suddenly, on his approach to the inner cloud, all the instruments in the plane went hay-wire! Next the lights blotted out.

Nancy and Bruce were in complete darkness with no reliable means of navigation!

ALTHOUGH Bruce and Nancy knew they were in a precarious spot, he remained calm and she did not panic.

She sat quietly, clutching the sides of the pilot’s seat. Bruce was trying his best to keep the plane straight and level. Not only were his maneuvers useless, but it seemed as if the craft were being sucked into the magnetic cloud.

The plane was wobbling badly, making a forward and backward rocking motion. Nancy began to feel a little squeamish.