Excerpt
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. Besides, I don't think we have long to wait, not with Colonel Rojas here."
Rick knew that his dark-haired pal was right, but inaction, even under ordinary circumstances, made him restless, and now that two staff scientists had mysteriously disappeared, his normal desire to keep things moving swiftly was augmented by fear for their safety.
The Spindrift Scientific Foundation, with headquarters on famed Spindrift Island off the New Jersey coast, was regarded by most people as a typical group of scientists, impersonal and efficient, who sometimes made important discoveries or got involved in scientific adventures. But the picture of the Foundation, given mostly through impersonal scientific publications, was wrong.
The scientific efficiency and purpose of Spindrift could not be denied. But what the public failed to appreciate was that the staff, headed by Rick Brant's scientist father, was more like a family than a corporation. The center of activity was the big Brant house and the adjoining laboratory on Spindrift Island. The scientists were not only colleagues, but close personal friends.
As a consequence, when the staff zoologist, Dr. Howard Shannon, and the staff archaeologist, Dr. Anthony Briotti, failed to turn up on schedule from an expedition to the Sulu Sea, the entire Foundation became personally concerned. All work stopped while the staff speculated on what might have happened, what course of action to take.
Rick Brant and his pal Scotty were particularly upset when the days passed and Hartson Brant failed to decide on a course of action. Rick knew, of course, that his father was proceeding logically, obtaining information by cable and phone from the Philippines, but he resented the passing days.
"I'm glad Rojas is here," Rick said. "That must mean Dad is making up his mind. And you know what I hope, don't you?"
"Same as I do. But don't hope too much. Maybe Dad will decide this is a job for professionals, and not for us."
Hartson Brant had returned only a few minutes ago from a hurried trip to New York. He had brought with him Colonel Felix Rojas of the Philippines Constabulary. The tall, slender officer was at present on duty with his country's United Nations delegation. He was an old friend, dating back to the adventure of The Golden Skull when Rick, Scotty, Chahda, and Tony Briotti had gone to the fabulous rice terraces of Ifugao.
The colonel was having a belated lunch with Dr. and Mrs. Brant, and Rick's father had indicated politely but firmly that the two boys were not to broach the subject of the missing scientists until the colonel had finished eating....