Tom frowned thoughtfully. “Perhaps-or for all we know-the bug may have been planted long before today by an Enterprises employee… . Well, I’d better turn this transmitter over to Ames and see what he makes of it!”
That evening Tom, Bud, and the girls kept their dinner date with Prince Jahan. The other students had found rooms in a local motel. But Jahan had been ordered by his father, the Rajah, to take separate quarters because of his royal rank.
The prince was enjoying his new-found American freedom and had cooked the dinner himself. The meal began with wheat pancakes, called chapaties. This was followed by kababs, a highly spiced mutton curry, with rice pilau and two 26 POLAR-RAY DYNASPHERE
vegetables-brinjals bhurta, which was mint-flavored eggplant-and fried bhindis, or okra.
The dessert was called rosagollah. It consisted of sugar-soaked lumps formed from curdled milk and covered with a thick, saffron-flavored syrup.
“Mmml Delicious!” Sandy said enthusiastically.
The others agreed, and Bud said, “Your highness, you can really cook!”
The prince beamed. “Please-not ‘your highness’-just ‘Jahan.’ My father would be horrified if he found out, but cooking has always been a hobby of mine.”
As they left the table, Jahan said, “And now, I should like to present these two young ladies with small souvenirs from Vishnapur.”
He went to a bookshelf and unwrapped a package. As he lifted out a small bronze Buddha figure, Jahan’s face took on a puzzled frown. “Strange! I did not order this from the import shop,” he murmured. “Oh, well … no matter.”
He now removed the wrappings from two small figurines-elephants carved from ivory and enameled in gorgeous colors. Each bore a brass how-dah.
“How beautiful!” Sandy and Phyl exclaimed as he handed one to each girl.
“They are incense burners,” Jahan explained.
At that moment a loud ring announced a caller at the front door of the apartment building. Jahan
THE BRONZE BUDDHA 27
answered, then pressed the door buzzer so the visitor could enter.
“It is Mr. Ames from your security department, Tom,” the prince said, puzzled.
Tom, too, was mystified by the unexpected call. A few moments later Ames entered, accompanied by a tall, well-dressed, dark-complexioned man.
“I’m sorry to intrude,” Ames said, “but Mr. Patil Ram, Vishnapur’s representative in this country, has received some alarming information which he will pass along.”
Mr. Ram bowed stiffly to Jahan. “Your highness, there is a police officer waiting outside. We have a warrant to search your apartment.”
Tom, Bud, and the girls gaped in amazement as Mr. Ram explained that the prince was suspected of being a spy and traitor. As Jahan began to protest angrily, Ames’s eyes roved about the room. He walked straight to the bronze Buddha figure, picked it up, and removed a rolled-up slip of paper from a hole in the base.
Ames examined the paper. “This is the evidence we’re looking for,” he said quietly.
CHAPTER IV
A MARTIAN MYSTERY
“WHAT’S this all about?” Tom demanded.
“You’d better see for yourself,” Ames replied.
After hastily introducing the Swifts and their friends to the Vishnapur official, he handed the paper to Tom. It bore a printed message: PRINCE JAHAN–-THE SCIENTIFIC DATA
YOU STOLE FROM SWIFT ENTERPRISES HAS BEEN SOLD TO
FOREIGN AGENTS FOR A HIGH PRICE. THE GUNS PURCHASED WITH
THIS MONEY WILL HELP US OVERTHROW YOUR FATHER, THE RAJAH, AND MAKE YOU OUR NEW RULER. LET US KNOW THE DATE ON WHICH
WE ARE TO BEGIN OUR REVOLT.
Tom read the message with a frown. Then Ames passed it on to Mr. Ram.
28
A MARTIAN MYSTERY 29
Jahan’s eyes blazed. “Let me see that!”
Mr. Ram showed him the paper. “Preposterous!” Jahan exclaimed. He read the message aloud to Bud and the girls, adding, “No plotter would send such an incriminating note!”
“I agree-the note’s silly,” Tom said. “If Prince Jahan were guilty, he would already know what the guns were for.”
Ames nodded. “You have a point there.”
“How did Mr. Ram get the tip to come here?”
The official explained that he had received a mysterious telephone call in Washington. The speaker would give no name, but promised to supply an important lead to the traitor if Mr. Ram would come to New York immediately.
“Was the call traced?” Tom asked.
“Yes, to a New York phone booth,” Ames said.
“I flew to New York at once,” Mr. Ram went on. “A message was waiting for me at the airport. It said that Prince Jahan and his fellow students frequently went to a certain import shop to buy foodstuffs and other items-and that one of them was getting secret messages from Vishnapur concealed inside these goods.”
“Is the store in New York?” Tom asked.
“Yes.” Mr. Ram named an address in Lower Manhattan. “The airport message also said to check on a small bronze Buddha.”
Mr. Ram said he had gone to the shop. Its owner 30 POLAR-RAY DYNASPHERE
had looked up his sales records and found that a Buddha figure had been included in an order purchased recently by Jahan.
“But that proves Prince Jahan can’t be guilty!” Sandy spoke up. “We know he wasn’t expecting that bronze Buddha.” She told how surprised the prince had been to find it in the package. Phyl and Bud backed her up.
“A clever bit of acting, perhaps.”
“What about the language?” Tom put in. “Would a plotter in Vishnapur write to a spy from his own country in English?”
Mr. Ram shrugged. “It is possible. Hindi and various other tongues are spoken in Vishnapur, so English is often used as a common language, just as it is in India.”
“I still think the message doesn’t ring true,” Tom argued. “It gives no real information and it’s addressed to Prince Jahan by name-a fatal giveaway if the message ever fell into the wrong hands. It even spells out the fact that they’re planning to overthrow the Rajah. Apparently some enemy group is trying to frame Prince Jahan!”
Ames and the official looked impressed at Tom’s reasoning. Mr. Ram felt, however, that the prince should stand trial in Vishnapur.
“That may be what the plotters want,” Ames said. “It would shake people’s trust in the royal family and help weaken the government.”
“Exactly,” Tom agreed. “I think the message
A MARTIAN MYSTERY 31
was cooked up right here in America. If one of the students is involved in the scheme, we may be able to catch him. Please wait before you take any action.”
Mr. Ram frowned unhappily. “The Rajah is a stern man. If Prince Jahan is guilty and I let him escape, I would be punished severely.”
“Then hold him under house arrest for now,” Tom suggested. “A police guard can be posted.”
Mr. Ram hesitated. “Very well. I shall wait a few days.” Turning to Prince Jahan, he added, “I must ask your highness not to leave this apartment.
Arrangements will be made to supply you with food and any other needs.”
Jahan nodded curtly, then gave Tom a warm handclasp and beamed at Sandy, Phyl, and Bud. “Thank you, my friends, for believing in my innocence. It was fortunate for me that you were here.”
Later, as Tom and Bud were driving the girls home, Phyl asked the young inventor, “Do you have any plans for trapping the spy in the group of student engineers?”
“That bug we found may help,” Tom replied. He explained that because its broadcasting range was only a few hundred feet, a repeater, or relay transmitter, would have to be planted near the lab. “Ames had the grounds gone over with radio-detection gear, but nothing has turned up-yet.”
“Is someone keeping watch?” Sandy asked.
32 POLAR-RAY DYNASPHERE
“Yes, around the clock. In fact, I think I’ll bunk at the plant tonight in case anything happens. Want to keep me company, Bud?”
“Sure thing!”
Next door to Tom’s laboratory was a small apartment. The young inventor often used it when working overtime. After saying good night to the girls, Tom and Bud drove there and went to bed. An alarm buzzer had been rigged so the lookout could signal in case of any suspicious activity. But the night passed without incident.
Mr. Swift arrived from Washington the following day. Bud picked him up at the plant airfield and drove him at once to Tom’s lab.
“The conference was even more interesting than I expected, son,” the elder scientist reported.
“What was it about, Dad?” Tom asked.
“The news won’t be released until noon today, but something has gone wrong with the Mars probe rocket. It won’t respond to the radio signal which was to bring it back to earth.”
Tom and Bud were amazed, knowing the rocket’s electronic gear had been thoroughly tested.
“What a blow to space research!” Tom said. “The instruments aboard must be packed with data on the Martian environment.”
“Invaluable,” Mr. Swift agreed. “As yet, no one has a clue to what caused the failure.”
“Is the rocket still orbiting Mars, Dad?”