Monday morning Tom buckled down seriously to the job of designing an undetectable sub. His drawing board was littered with sketches and diagrams when the phone rang, breaking in on his thoughts. Tom answered it with a scowl of impatience. The caller was Lester Morris.
A MAGNETIC KIDNAPING 85
“Could you meet me at the yacht club to talk over the dance program?”
Morris asked.
Tom hesitated. For Sandy’s and Phyl’s sakes he was eager to do everything possible to make the square dance a success. But on the other hand …
“I’m pretty busy today,” Tom said. “But my sister and my friend Bud Barclay can tell you what we want-probably better than I can. Suppose I ask them to meet you there after lunch?”
There was a slight pause. “Very well,” Morris agreed, although he sounded a bit annoyed.
After hanging up, Tom phoned Bud and asked him to keep the appointment.
Bud was only too happy to oblige, jumping at the chance to take Sandy out to lunch beforehand.
At one o’clock the husky young pilot and his date strolled into the yacht club lounge. Lester Morris was nowhere in sight, so they sat down to wait. Twenty minutes later the musician still had not appeared.
“I hope he hasn’t forgotten,” Sandy said, glancing at her wrist watch.
“If he’s a square-dance caller, his memory ought to be extra good,” Bud joked. “Fine thing if he can’t even remember the time of day!”
After waiting a while longer, Bud decided to telephone Morris’s home. But at that moment a thin, seedy-looking man came into the lounge. His 86 THE ELECTRONIC HYDROLUNG