“Brand my cactus cupcakes, that’s plumb remarkable!” Chow exclaimed.
“And an hombre like Pete Uzcudun, what sits up in the hills by himself night after night, would be jest the sort o’ person to pick up them signals from space.”
“What about Lunario and Mulver?” Bud objected.
Tom shrugged uncertainly. “Lunario claimed he’d been tested in a parapsychology lab and-”
“What kind o’ place is that?” Chow interrupted.
“A laboratory where they do research to find out if telepathy and other kinds of thought transference can really take place. They call it ESP.
92 3-D TELEJECTOR
Lunario said he scored high. Maybe Mulver is gifted the same way.”
Bud reviewed Tom’s theory as he finished his apple turnover. “Sounds pretty far out, but it sure is interesting,” he mused. “What do you intend to do about it, Tom?”
“For one thing, I’d like to do some experimenting with Uzcudun,” Tom replied.
“And while I’m at it, I think I’ll make another attempt to contact our space friends.”
The young inventor and Bud jeeped to the space communications lab, and Tom again beamed out a message to the space creatures. This time, the translator brain remained completely silent.
Bud said after a while, “No dice, eh?”
Tom shook his head. “I guess not. I sure wish I knew why we can’t get through to them. Let’s
go.”
Tom dropped Bud off at one of the airfield hangars, since the young flier had a flight test scheduled. Then he drove thoughtfully back to his private laboratory and called Miss Trent. He asked her to put through a long-distance telephone call to Pedro Uzcudun.
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