Destination: Clipper Cay The Sky Wagon droned through Caribbean skies, following a compass course that led to Charlotte Amalie, capital city of the Virgin Islands. With eager interest, the four people in the small plane watched the blue water below. In a few moments they should pass over the island that was their ultimate destination. Rick Brant, in the pilot's seat, turned to the husky, black-haired boy next to him. "See anything yet?" he... more...

Spindrift Rick Brant released the sling pouch with his left hand and let it drop smoothly to the end of its double string. The sling swung through a complicated arc, out to its full length, down again behind his back, then, with rapidly increasing speed, over his right shoulder. With a final whip he swung the pouch forward and released the free end of the string at precisely the right moment. The rock left the pouch at astonishing speed,... more...

The Missing Scientists "We'd better do something," Rick Brant stated grimly, "and we'd better do it fast." He picked up a stone and threw it far out into the green waters of the Atlantic, a gesture that did little to relieve his worry and anxiety. Don Scott, nicknamed Scotty, said soothingly, "I know how you feel. I feel the same way. But don't forget that Dad is just as worried as we are—maybe even more so, because he feels responsible.... more...

The Head-hunter It was hot in the cabin of the freighter Asiatic Dream. The heaviness of the tropical heat outside the ship penetrated through the steel and flaking paint of the deck to turn the cabin into an oven. Rick Brant and Don Scott, stripped to their shorts, were oblivious of the heat. They sat hunched over a three-dimensional chessboard, studying the complex moves of their newest hobby. Now and then they glared at each other, or paused... more...

Chesapeake Bay The stingaree swam slowly through the warm waters of Chesapeake Bay. Geography meant nothing to the ray, whose sole interest in life was food, but his position—had he known it—was in the channel that runs between Poplar Island and the town of Wittman on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. The ray was also directly in the path of an odd-looking cruising houseboat, the Spindrift, that had just rounded the north point of... more...

CHAPTER I Vulcan's Hammer The entire staff of the world-famed Spindrift Scientific Foundation gathered in the conference room of the big gray laboratory building on the southeast corner of Spindrift Island. It was unusual for the whole staff to be called to a meeting. Even more unusual—not a single member knew what the meeting was about. Rick Brant, son of the Spindrift Foundation's director, Dr. Hartson Brant, was perhaps even more... more...

CHAPTER I The Million-Dollar Gimmick Rick Brant stretched luxuriously and slid down to a half-reclining, half-sitting position in his dad's favorite library armchair. He called, "Barby! Hurry up!" Don Scott looked up from his adjustment of the television picture. "What's the rush? The show hasn't started yet." Rick explained, "She likes the commercials." A moment later Barbara Brant appeared in the doorway, hastily finishing a doughnut. Rick... more...

The Winston Plan The date was December twenty-third. The time along the Greenwich meridian, from which all world times are measured, was 8:15 P.M. At widely scattered points around the globe, four voices were raised simultaneously. Even an experienced observer could not have found a connection between the four voices and what they were saying, yet each voice started actions that would soon be interwoven into a single pattern—a pattern of... more...

Changes at Spindrift The sounds of hammer and saw had disturbed Spindrift Island for several days, and Rick Brant was having a hard time getting used to it. The noise didn't bother him. It was the idea behind the noise—the idea that the close fellowship of the famous island was about to be intruded upon by strangers. He sat in a comfortable chair on the front porch of the big Brant house and stared morosely at the Atlantic. He was a tall,... more...

A Spooky Invitation Rick Brant moved with infinite care. With one hand he adjusted the focus of his microscope, while with the other he brought the sharp glass tip of the pipette into view. He released his thumb for a fraction of a second and let a drop of blue fluid flow into the field of view. The microscopic monster shot out its defensive weapons, shuddered, and was still. For a moment Rick inspected his work, then sat back with a sigh.... more...