CHAPTER XV

THE WHITE FLARE

To the members of the Hillcrest ball team the days that followed were those of tremendous thrills and heart breaking disappointment. Whenever two members of the team met, wildly enthusiastic words regarding the coming airplane tour were exchanged.

“It’s a bi-motored plane!” one would exclaim, “a great silver ship of the air. Hundred and sixty miles an hour. And with a stiff wind behind you, boy, oh boy! What a ride!”

“And all the way to the Pacific coast!” the other would fairly shout.

On the other hand two games were played. Sad, tragic games they were indeed. Games that counted in the pennant race, they were lost. The “Prince” failed them. He did not show up. Everyone asked “Why? Why?” No one knew where he was; at least, if Colonel Chamberlain knew he did not tell.

Fred Frame’s arm gave out in the first of the two games. Leander Larson, who took his place, did his best. That best was not good enough.

“We are a whole game behind Centralia!” Doug Danby groaned. “Got one game with her next week. If the ‘Prince’ don’t show up we’ll lose, and that ends it all. What’s the good of a cruise with a steel-fingered pitcher, after we’ve lost the year’s contest at home?”

“You have to think of the money you’ll make,” Johnny reminded him. “Taking that cruise is the only thing that will save the ball field to the boys of Hillcrest. And that’s important. That will last for years and years and years. Why,” he cried, “that’s like setting up a monument to the team that’s playing just now! Better than a monument, I’d say! A lot better. You can only look at a monument. A ball field you can enjoy using. Thousands will have a good time there every year. It’s your grand and glorious opportunity.”

“Why do you say ‘you’?” Doug demanded. “You’re going along, aren’t you?”

“I can’t,” Johnny said soberly. “Grandfather has some government work to do, looking after the loaning of money. I’ve got to drive for him. Anyway, I’m not needed. Besides—”

He did not finish. He was about to say, “Besides, there’s that missing Chinaman, Tao Sing, the Federal agents, and the thought-camera. I’ve got to see that thing through.” He did not say it.

“Besides what?” Doug asked.

“Oh nothing,” Johnny countered. “I’ll not be with you, that’s all. Goggles and his mechanical pal will have to go along. Those, with the team, will give the airplane a pretty good load.”

“Meggy,” Johnny said that same afternoon, “why didn’t the ‘Prince’ come today?”

“That,” Meggy whispered, “is just what I asked Uncle Rob. And do you know what he said?”

“No. What?”

“He said,” Meggy whispered, “the ‘Prince’ is afraid! Afraid of what, Johnny?”

“I—I think I know,” Johnny said slowly. “But I’m not quite sure. Sup—supposing I don’t answer until I know?”

“That—that’s all right, Johnny.”

“Say, Meggy!” Johnny exclaimed, “Do you suppose you could get your uncle to let us go down to see—see the ‘Prince’ and take Goggles along?”

“I’m sure I could, Johnny.”

“Tonight?”

“Maybe.”

“All right. You try, then phone me.”

At eight o’clock that evening three dark figures approached a door in the laboratories. Through the clouded glass of that door a pale light shone.

The smaller of the three, a boy, rapped three times. The door opened a crack. Shining eyes peered into the darkness. The door opened wider. The trio entered. Meggy, Johnny and Goggles found themselves being ushered into a dimly lighted room. The room was lined on all sides by test-tubes, beakers, retorts and all manner of instruments that belong to the fascinating and mysterious science of chemistry.

“You wanted to see me?” Something very like a smile played about the lips of the “Prince.”

“Yes,—er—it’s this.” Goggles drew two very small bottles from his pocket, then held them up to the light. Each vial contained a small quantity of some chemical substance.

Taking these, the “Prince” poured a little from each upon a bit of tissue paper. He pinched each, examined it under a pocket microscope, poked it about with a needle. Then straightening up, he said rather sharply, “Where’d you get it?”

“Jus—just now I’d rather not tell,” Goggles stammered.

“All right.” The chemist’s tone was brusque. “Want me to show you something?”

Without waiting for a reply, he left the room, returning in a moment with a rather curious triangle of metal set on a wooden handle. He scattered grains of two mysterious powders along the bottom of this triangular trough. Next he ran insulated wires with bared ends, one each from two directions along this trough. The ends almost, but did not quite, touch. He connected the other ends of these wires to a dry battery.

“Now,” he breathed. Methodically he fastened a pair of very dark glasses before his eyes.

“Now,” he repeated, “watch for a surprise! No harm. Just a bit of a shock.”

Too much thrilled to watch his next move, the children jumped almost to the ceiling when there came a dazzling white flash.

“All that from those few powders!” Johnny exclaimed. “And no smoke at all.”

“Yes,” the “Prince” said quietly. “A truly marvelous discovery. By adding more powder one may light up a square mile in the darkest night—a great boon to aviators. With such a powder at hand, no secret army movement at night in war time could be sure to succeed. A truly marvelous discovery!” he repeated. He did not say, “Where did you get it?”

“Perhaps he knows,” Johnny told himself.

“‘Prince,’ you—you’ll pitch for us next Saturday?” There was pleading in Meggy’s tone. “We need you badly. You—you just _can’t_ fail.”

A shadow passed over the strange dark face. “I—I’ll try to be there,” the “Prince” replied. “And now,” he said abruptly, “I must bid you goodnight. I am working on something for the Colonel, some—something rather large for so unimportant a person as myself.”

“Thank you, ‘Prince.’” Meggy made for the door. “Thank, oh thank you,” came from the others.

Johnny was the last one out. Just why he should have looked back at the instant the door was swinging shut behind him, he could never tell. Enough that he did look back and that, from this looking through a crack not more than two inches wide, he received the shock of his young life.

He saw a leg, the leg of the “Prince.” His sock had slipped down. He was pulling it up. In doing so, he lifted his trouser leg so high that it showed his bared leg. _And that leg was not brown, but white as Johnny’s own._

“He’s not naturally brown!” The thought shot through the boy’s mind like a flash. “His hands, arms and face are dyed; probably his hair is too. I wonder why?” He was to continue wondering for some time to come.