tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91511904105847534112024-02-20T23:06:36.621-08:00Hardy Boys & Chums BlogNews, fanfiction, satire, and all the latest and the oldest about the vintage Hardy Boys books and similar vintage juvenile series.stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.comBlogger85125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-6274399936717298412018-09-25T14:21:00.000-07:002018-09-25T14:28:36.085-07:00<br />
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NEW BOOK ABOUT MILDRED WIRT BENSON</h2>
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<b>CALL ME DAVE: MILDRED WIRT BENSON, THE TRANSGENDER MAN WHO WROTE NANCY DREW</b></div>
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<li style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13gBNIONEhfz9KlCOR08XvQEzasLtX_DS7oXOQMPziG9MUOSx89qdFl3UC7UM33rsCOoo2J17aoBRppnvdK71aD38Wrz00SygUAiTMpoeOZvGaa5G32tKZrk9jVxmCRYaKxfMwN9SERWy/s1600/davepp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="327" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13gBNIONEhfz9KlCOR08XvQEzasLtX_DS7oXOQMPziG9MUOSx89qdFl3UC7UM33rsCOoo2J17aoBRppnvdK71aD38Wrz00SygUAiTMpoeOZvGaa5G32tKZrk9jVxmCRYaKxfMwN9SERWy/s320/davepp.jpg" width="209" /></a></li>
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<span style="font-size: 18.72px;"><br /></span><b><span class="a-size-base review-text" data-hook="review-body" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 19px !important;">Written like a thriller about the lives of Mildred Wirt Benson, author of the original Nancy Drew books, and her friend David Farah, author of the Farah's Guides to the Nancy Drew books, this volume offers insights into Nancy Drew and series book collecting you won't find elsewhere. It also offers a lot of controversy because of David's assertion that Millie was a transgender man, obviously continuing to present as a woman because of the stigma associated with being trans.</span></b><br />
<b><span class="a-size-base review-text" data-hook="review-body" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 19px !important;"><br /></span></b><b><span class="a-size-base review-text" data-hook="review-body" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 19px !important;">Millie was very active in Nancy Drew collecting circles before her death, often attending cons and get-togethers with David, and many collectors knew her. The two are undoubtedly the most important people in the Nancy Drew fandom - Millie wrote the books and David taught us all how to collect them. But now David's new book is causing waves and some consider it blasphemy. How can anyone say such things about Millie? The answer to that is 'Read the book and find out'. I knew Millie and, along with the facts David presents, I think his observation is on the mark and should not be </span>be dismissed. It explains a lot, especially why those original Nancy Drews were so out of the ordinary and had such a broad appeal to girls and boys alike.</b><br />
<b><br /></b><b>Before I acquired the book, I made a post to a Facebook series collecting group about it, asking for information. The post was removed. Case closed. They don't want to talk about it. Aww, c'mom kids, let's all grow up. We all loved Millie. But it'd be better to understand her the way she really was, and still love her. She had an amazing effect on our lives, all for the good, and we owe her. Big time. So lets take a moment to understand her and understand how big the gift was she gave to us - unending inspiration. And give David credit for explaining in a simple affectionate way what so many of us wondered and discussed about.</b><br />
<b><br /></b><b>But then, LGBT issues were never accepted much in these collector groups even though a good half of the members are LGBT or allies. In fact, hardly anything outside the influence of the particular group guru is accepted, this a means to keep a tight control. Their reaction to the book told me it really had to be good, jealousy is a dead giveaway, and I was not disappointed when it arrived. I read it straight through.</b><br />
<b><br /></b><b>David writes this book intertwining his story with Millie's story, how they both grew up, she to to become writer of the Nancy Drews and he to become the chronicler of over 2600 printings of them in his guides. Also in the mix are loads of information about series books and series book collecting that you cannot find anywhere else. Sometimes the author gets carried away with detail, but those of us who know David would expect that, and it's best to read it all because the real story is always there, in the sum of all the details.</b><br />
<b><br /></b><b>However, I was really annoyed when the long-winded but compelling book suddenly ended when I thought it was going to get even deeper. Aww. I like deep. I like detail. I like knowing the whole story. But a teaser on the back inside cover promises a volume 2 with more, more, more about Millie and David, and I'm hoping that's actually in the works right now!</b></div>
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stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-55953156646429209302018-09-20T15:08:00.000-07:002018-09-20T15:11:05.839-07:00<h2>
MILDRED WIRT BENSON POST BANNED ON FACEBOOK </h2>
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A post I made recently to a Facebook series book collecting group about a new Mildred Wirt Benson book was removed by a moderator who obviously did not want it there. In the post I named the book and asked if anyone had heard anything about it, a very common request to ask. Mildred, of course, is the author of the original Nancy Drew books and many other series similar to it, an icon in the vintage series book collecting world, composed mostly of older adults. So shocking that they'd remove a post about a book written about her! </h3>
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<br />The book is titled Mildred Wirt Benson: The Transgender Man Who Wrote Nancy Drew by David Farah, the author of the Farah Guides, popular guides to the printing history of the Nancy Drew books.</h3>
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<br /><br />I knew Mildred and knew her as a woman. If she transitioned to a man I do not know anything about that, which is why I asked, figuring one of the many other collectors might know about it. I know that Farah knew her much more intimately than most other collectors, so I have no reason to doubt the veracity of the content of his book, just wanted info about it while I waited for my copy to arrive in the mail.</h3>
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I'm assuming the post was removed because the moderator doesn't want posts about transgenders on the group's page. There have been anti-LGBT incidents in other such groups before even though many collectors are LGBT and allies. This is ridiculously childish behavior for an adult group, and very bigoted. The post did not promote the book or advertise it, just asked for general information. Is it good? Did you like it? How long has it been out? Are there any reviews? That kind of thing. Farah is highly respected in this particular collectors circle, but I suppose they must not be discussing his book if they have deleted the post. </h3>
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What a shame if Millie was transgender (which I'm assuming she was if Farah wrote a book about it) and her fans do not want to accept her that way, or even talk about it, yet keep on exalting her for having been such a legend in the genre. But bigotry and prejudice is a hard act to change and most of the self-appointed gurus in the vintage series book collecting circles are all-around bigots, against just about everything that does not help promote only themselves.</h3>
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<br /><br />I'll be getting the book soon and in my next post I'll review it. Millie was quite a character and it'll be interesting to learn about her secret life (at least to us collectors).</h3>
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stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-34954724720978844612018-03-16T15:39:00.004-07:002022-11-05T20:56:38.699-07:00<p><b style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: white;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: white;"><span style="background-color: white;">Rick Brant Rick Brant Books Rick Brant Rick Brant Books Rick Brant Rick Brant Books Rick Brant Rick Brant Books Rick Brant Rick Brant Books Rick Brant Rick Brant Books Rick Brant Rocket Jumper Rocket Jumper Rocket Jumper Rocket Jumper Rocket Jumpe</span>r</span></b><br />
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</p><h2 style="text-align: left;"><b>RICK BRANT BOOK #26 <br />MOUNTAIN JUMPER</b></h2><p>
<b><br /></b><b>Could this be RICK BRANT BOOK #26 - MOUNTAIN JUMPER?</b><br />
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<b>It has a similar look to ROCKET JUMPER, maybe not as exciting, but I'm sure Rick would enjoy an adventure of forest fire jumping. Darn! There just are not enough books in the Rick Brant series. We need more!<br /></b>stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-46114503176156709242018-03-06T18:01:00.004-08:002022-11-05T20:42:13.952-07:00RICK BRANT #25 THE TIGER'S EYE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div><h2 style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></h2><h3 style="text-align: left;">This book is a phantom title, mentioned in the end of RB #23 Danger Below as the next title to come, but never published as the series was ended. RB #24 The Magic Talisman was written years later and independently published. But was #25 ever written? Some say there are notes in a university collection of the author's papers, others say a manuscript is there. The story places Rick and Scotty sleuthing down in Mexico in old Aztec ruins where ancient human sacrifices took place, diving for treasure in sacrificial wells. The Tiger's Eye are the rare stones that figure as an element of the plot.<br /></h3>
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<span style="color: white;">Rick Bssssssst books Rick Brant Rick Brant books Rick Brant Rick Brant Books rick Brant Rick Brant Books Ricnrat Books Rick Brant. The Tiger's Eye The Tiger's Eye The Tig The Tiger's Eye The Tiger's </span></h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<h3>The above is a faux cover depicting the boys as they enter one of the old ruins. Perhaps I'll eventually write a fanfic version of this title when I complete the Rick Brant one I'm pubbing now on Wattpad.</h3><br />
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stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-48350417282338943372013-11-21T10:24:00.003-08:002013-11-21T18:20:58.747-08:00THE WALLACE BOYS BOOKS by Duncan Watt<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br />The Wallace Boys series by Duncan Watt<br /><br />beginning with a review of<br /><span style="color: red;"><i>THE SULTAN OF THE SULU SEA</i></span><br />a book often compared to the Rick Brant<br /><span style="color: blue;"><i>THE PIRATES OF SHAN.</i></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">THE
WALLACE BOYS:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">THE
SULTAN OF THE SULU SEA</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">This book is the 18</span><sup><span style="font-size: small;">th</span></sup><span style="font-size: small;">
volume in The Wallace Boys mystery and adventure series by Duncan
Watt, a resident of Singapore who is a television newsreader. This
series, possibly the best post-golden age boys’ series of its type,
has enjoyed great success around the globe, especially in
British-influenced countries, but it is little known here in the
United States.<br /><br /><br />Published in 1997, this exciting story finds
the Wallace brothers Nigel and Bruce, British boys from Zimbabwe,
Africa, sailing back to Singapore on the South China Sea in the yacht
the Silver Spray which they had recently renovated for their uncle in
Scotland. With them are their friends Zainal, a Malay, and Kheng
Peng, a Chinese, both citizens of Singapore. The boys had just had
the thrilling adventure </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The Treasure of the
Tiger</i></span><span style="font-size: small;">, in which they had discovered a sunken
World War 2 Japanese warship that contained a billion dollar fortune
in wartime looted gold. They are now returning the gold to
Singapore.<br /><br /><br />Nigel is the older of the Wallace boys, tall and
dark, and Bruce is the younger, stockier and fair. They compare well
with the famous Hardy Boys and their adventures are every bit as
exciting. The books are loaded with dozens of illustrations, maps,
charts, photographs, footnotes, and indexes in back , crammed with
information that helps to make the stories all the more interesting
and realistic.<br /><br /><br />Well on its way through the treacherous waters,
the Silver Spray is spotted by pirates and chase is given throughout
the day and the following night. The boys try several devious methods
to escape, including attacking the pirate ship themselves and trying
to disable it, but they are ultimately captured. These are Moro
pirates from the Southern Philippines, ruthless cutthroats who live
on the island of Mindanao and nearby islands of the Sulu Sea. We met
up with some of these vicious characters in the Rick Brant book </span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The
Pirates of Shan</i></span><span style="font-size: small;">, so we know just how
dastardly they can be. In fact, this book has a lot in common with
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The Pirates of Shan</i></span><span style="font-size: small;">
and should be mandatory reading for any fan of that classic
tale.<br /><br /><br />The pirates search the boat but luckily do not find the
well-hidden gold. The boys are kept as prisoners but allowed to stay
on the yacht along with a guard as the pirates tow the Silver Spray
up to the Sulu Sea. This takes a couple days. The boys, who have
escaped many times in the past from situations of dire danger, wrack
their brains trying to figure out how to get out of this mess. In
sheer desperation, they do the unthinkable when the pirates stop on
the beach of an idyllic little island to get a supply of water for
the boats. While the pirates are busy working, the boys scuttle the
Silver Spray, sink it, making it look like an accident. They don’t
want the pirates to have the yacht and the gold and they secretly hope that
someday, somehow, they will be able to come back and raise it.<br /><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">But this hasty plan of
theirs backfires in a most extraordinary way. The pirates are angry
enough to kill and to the great shock of Nigel and Bruce, and the
reader, the boys are forced to stand at attention and watch the
execution of their friends on the beach! Zainal and Kheng Peng are
mowed down by AK-47s as the Wallace Boys watch in horror. The pirates
don’t want them; they are ordinary Asian boys and not worth
anything to them. But they know they can get big money for the white
British Wallace Boys or perhaps even use them for political purposes.
They throw them shackled on the deck of the pirate ship. Here they
spend the day in the hot sun as headway is made northeast to the Sulu
Sea.<br /><br /><br />The brothers both experience a sense of desperation and
impending doom when they arrive at the pirate hide-out on an island
the Moros call Bugsuk Sulu. They had watched their friends die on the
sandy shore of the other island, and now they are themselves to be
imprisoned at a far away remote stronghold. There seems to be no way
out of this dire trap they find themselves in. At the headquarters in
the island’s center, surrounded by high mountains, Nigel and Bruce
are presented to the pirate leader, Sarangani, who lays a claim to
royalty as the Sultan of the Sulu Sea. The boys are told they will be
used for ransom or possibly prisoner-exchange for pirate members
currently in Philippine jails, and they are quickly incarcerated in a
shack on the compound guarded by two of the pirates wielding the
AK-47s. <br /><br /><br />What happens next cannot be told in a book review;
it’s too incredible. You have to get a copy of this book and read
it for yourself. Duncan Watt uses some serious writing magic and his
vast knowledge of ships and seafaring to come up with the most
unexpected ‘unexpected twists and turns’ that you’ll probably
ever run into in a boys’ mystery-adventure book. How the Wallace
Boys escape from Bugsuk Sulu and the Moro pirates is as tense and
thrilling and original as anything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read
them all – at least sometimes I think so. This is one of the best
books in the genre, able to stand alongside all your old favorites,
but with a refreshing twist that makes it markedly different and a
real joy to read. Even though Rick Brant had a pretty similar
adventure with these same pirates, he’d go bonkers reading this
book, knowing he’d been there too and just how darn hard it was to
get out of there and back to the world where you can take a boat ride
and not have to worry about pirates who kidnap for ransom and carry
AK-47 machine guns!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">DUNCAN
WATT<br />and<br />THE WALLACE BOYS SERIES</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Duncan Watt was born in
Africa and lived in Zambia and Zimbabwe where growing up was far more
exciting than most other boys can even hope to experience. He later
lived in London, England, and now resides in Singapore where he is a
well-known television newsreader.<br /><br /><br />His characters Nigel and
Bruce Wallace live in Zimbabwe, Africa, and have thrilling adventures
there and around the world, based on life experiences of their
author. The books are well-written and exciting, fully illustrated
with drawings, maps, charts, photographs, and include indexes,
copious footnotes, and even related reading lists. They are similar
in writing style and quality to the Ken Holt and Rick Brant vintage
series books and have a diverse cast of characters. <br /><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Published by Tynron Press
U.K. in trade-size paperbacks, they are available on the Internet
book sites with some diligent searching, and a number of titles have
been added in recent years that are available only as Kindle E-books
from Amazon. Here they are presented in <i>chronolo</i></span><i><span style="font-size: small;">gical</span></i><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i>reading
order:<br /><br /><br /><br />1 – SKULDUGGERY IN THE SOUTH ATLANTIC 1995<br />
Nigel and Bruce and their friend Jimmy Fowler get involved in an attempted coup to take over the island of St. Helena in the Atlantic off the coast of Africa.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">2 – THE SANDS OF THE
SKELETON COAST 1993<br /> The Wallace Boys and Jimmy hitch a
ride on a yacht and search for a cache of diamonds along
Nambia’s dangerous Skeleton Coast.<br /><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">3 – TROUBLE IN TRISTAN
1991<br /> The boys are hijacked on the yacht by a German who is
searching for a treasure in art that was stolen by the Nazis in WW2 on a p;ace called Inaccessible Island.<br /><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">4 – THE LEGACY OF
LOBENGULA 1996<br /> Back home in Zimbabwe, the boys follow
clues on their friend Moyunda’s pendant on a treasure hunt in the mysterious gorge downriver from the magnificent Victoria Falls on the Zambezi Rim.<br /><br /><br />5 – KILLERS AGAINST
KARIBA 1992<br /> The Wallace Boys and Moyunda take a holiday on
Lake Kariba where they fall into the<br /> clutches of terrorists
who are out to overthrow the Zimbabwe government and blow up the <br />
mighty Kariba Dam.<br /><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">6 – KIDNAPPED IN THE
KAFUE 1991<br /> A sequel to Killers Against Kariba, the boys
once again fight the Zipra Terrorists, this time in the Kafue National Park in Zambia. <br /><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">7 – CRASH IN THE CAPRIVI
1993<br /> After a hijacked flight in Zambia crashes, the
Wallace boys and Moyunda meet up with a <br /> bushman of their
own age who leads them to safety out of the dangerous Kalahari
Desert.<br /><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">8 – MISCHIEF IN THE
MOUSETRAP 2010 <i>*Kindle Ebook only</i><br /> In London, the Wallace
Boys help Scotland Yard track down a missing boy from the West <br />
End Theater District in a case eerily connected to the
long-running Agatha Christie play The Mousetrap.<br /><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">9 – HOSTAGE IN THE
HIGHLANDS 1995<br /> The boys go to Scotland to get their
uncle’s yacht the Silver Spray and meet up with strange events that link a cursed island of death, a royal kidnapping, and IRA terrorists. <br /><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">10- ASSIGNMENT IN THE ALPS
2010 <i>*Kindle Ebook only</i><br /> Aiding the Prince of Ruritania,
the boys join in a desperate search against time for treasure looted during WW2 high in the Alps. Ice climbing and paragliding are featured in this story based on the classic <i>The Prisoner of Zenda.</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i></i><br /><br /><br />11-
TRAITORS IN THE TYROL 2010 <i>*Kindle Ebook Only</i><br /> A sequel to
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Assignment in the Alps</i></span><span style="font-size: small;">,
this one finds the boys and the Prince on a holiday in <br /> the
Tyrol where they get in trouble with a secret American CIA group.<br /><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">12- THE MONKS OF MONTAFON
2010 <i>*Kindle Ebook Only</i><br /> Another story with the Crown
Prince, this time he's been abducted and the boys' investigation leads to the Montafon Mountains on the Austrian border where an order of monks hold a terrible secret in their monastery dating back to World War 2.<br /><br /><br />13- REBELS ACROSS THE
RED SEA 2000 <i>*Kindle Ebook Only</i><br /> At Luxor in Egypt, Nigel is mistaken for a Saudi Prince and taken captive into the Arabian desert. Bruce and new-found friend Hanafi, the real prince, follow the trail on camels to the rescue.<br /><br /><br />14- REBELS ACROSS
THE RED SEA ll 2000 <i>*Kindle Ebook Only</i><br /> <i>“Nemesis of the
Nefud”</i> Prince Hanafi and the Wallace Boys again in combat with terrorists who turn out to be Iraquis hiding out in the dreadful Nefud Desert in Saudi Arabia.<br /><br /><br />15- REBELS ACROSS THE
RED SEA lll 2001 <i>*Kindle Ebook Only</i><br /> <i>“The Terrorists of
Tibesti”</i> The boys and Prince Hanafi are finally able to nail the terrorists who have fled to hide out into the arid volcanic Tibesti Mountains in Northern Chad.<br /><br /><br />16- SOUTH FROM
THE SEYCHELLES 2010<i> *Kindle Ebook Only</i><br /> Adventure in the
South Indian Ocean aboard the yacht the Silver Spray to come to the aid of a friend bound on a trip to the Islands of Desolation, one of the most inhospitable places on Earth.<br /><br /><br />17- THE TREASURE OF THE TIGER 1994<br /> The
Wallace Boys arrive in Singapore on the yacht the Silver Spray. Here they meet up with buds Zainal and Kheng Peng and take off to the South China Sea in search of a Japanese warship believed to have been sunk there during World War 2 containing a billion dollar treasure in lotted gold.<br /><br /><br />18- THE
SULTAN OF THE SULU SEA 1997<br /> The Silver Spray is captured
by a band of vicious Moro pirates led by a fanatical leader who intends to use the Wallace Boys in his bid to claim part of the southern Philippines as his Sultanate. Of special interest to fans of the Rick Brant book <i>The Pirates of Shan.</i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i></i><br /><br /><br />19- MISSING IN THE MEKONG 2000
<i>*Kindle Ebook Only</i><br /> Returning from their captivity in the
Sulu Sea, the boys chance upon a drifting boat which leads to a desperate adventure in the Mekong River delta, rescuing an American prisoner left over from the Vietnam War. <br /><br /><br />20-
THE PAGODAS OF PAHANG 1996<br /> The Wallace boys make an
excursion into the jungles of central Malaysia where the legends of ghosts of an ancient ruined city entice them to solve an age-old mystery while also trying to save a girl rock star from the clutches of cutthroat rebel kidnappers. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> </span>
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stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-63037482969397706072013-11-21T08:52:00.000-08:002013-11-21T08:52:03.899-08:00RICK BRANT WEBSITE<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>RICK BRANT - DOT - COM<br /><br /><span style="color: black;">The Rick Brant</span> <i>Spindrift Island</i> <span style="color: black;">website has been allowed to be taken offline by the webmaster for unknown reasons. But Google has it archived via The Wayback Machine, so it is all accessible and its plethora of knowledge about the Rick Brant series is not lost!<br /><br /><br />Check it out now by clicking here:<br /> <a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20020526124822/http://rickbrant.com">RICK BRANT-DOT-COM</a></span></b></span></span><br />
<br />
(http://web.archive.org/web/20020526124822/http://rickbrant.com/)<br /><br /><span style="color: blue;"><i><b>Bookmark this site and visit it often. Let's not allow all this amazing Rick Brant information to become lost to the next generations of Rick Brant fans!</b></i></span><br />
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<br />stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-6348234877157347252013-09-22T17:34:00.000-07:002018-10-24T19:24:26.579-07:00A JUDY BOLTON DAY MYSTERY 3Read Chapters 1 and 2 here: <a href="http://hardyboys-stratomiker.blogspot.com/2011/10/judy-bolton-day-mystery.html">A JUDY BOLTON DAY MYSTER</a><br />
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<span style="color: red; font-size: large;"> THE MIDNIGHT PHANTOM<br /><br /><br /></span><br />
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<span class="by">copyright 2003 by</span> Stratomiker Syndicate </div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span id="freeTextContainer11693355066525713761"><i>A Julie Kane Mystery</i> set in Potter County PA at the annual Judy Bolton Day weekend in early October.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Chapter Three: POTTER COUNTY <br /><br /><i>Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!</i><br /><br />Cowering, Gina Sabreen was all, "Ohmygod! Someone is trying to kill us!"<br /><br />Another volley of arrows bombarded the wall that the girls were huddled against. It was like a blur, they came so fast. Julie, with her arm around Gina to protect her, dared to look up and search the mountainside above. Two more arrows roared at them, splatting into the stones, but Julie couldn't ascertain exactly where they came from in the mass of brilliant color that blanketed the heights.<br /><br />Julie's breath hissed as she drew in sharply and pulled at Gina's arm. "We have to make a run for it! I don't think they're trying to hit us, just scare us. We're too easy a target out here for any bow hunter worth his chops to miss us. Come on!"<br /><br />Gina's voice was thick with fear. "I sure hope you're right!"<br /><br />They wheeled to their feet as one, reeling back a little as another volley of arrows whooshed past to hit the wall, and then they began to run across the flagged terrace. Julie swooped down her hand and grabbed a couple of the arrows that had bounced afar. She crunched her fist around them and, holding fast to Gina, hastened down the path into the protection of the timber.<br /><br />The storm of arrows stopped behind them as they raced breathlessly through the woods to the parking area. Only after they had flung themselves into the coupe and slammed the doors shut, locking them and fastening seat belts, were any words spoken.<br /><br />Gina was trembling. She gasped through gritted teeth, "I totally can't believe that just happened!"<br /><br />Her face drained of all color, Julie was like, "But it did. It sure did, honey. And I'd freakin' like to know why!"<br /><br />She had tossed the two arrows on the floor by Gina's feet and now shoved the key into the ignition, firing up the powerful car. After being slammed into gear, it screeched out of the parking lot spitting gravel behind in its wake. The Jaguar roared onto the pavement and raced eastward up the mountain with a growling swoosh.<br /><br />Gina picked up one of the arrows and held it in her trembling hand. She looked at it in disbelief. The lightweight arrow bore a green-black-brown camouflage pattern with bright green feathers at its tail. The girl's eyes widened as she gazed at the tip.<br /><br />"Yypers, Julie! This arrow has a razor sharp broadhead point, like the ones my dad uses." She glowered angrily, all, "If we had been hit ... why we'd ... we'd ..."<br /><br />"We'd be dead," Julie finished for her, adding with a scowl, "Those are carbon arrows, lightweight and deadly. They'll easily kill a buck a whole lot bigger than we are, and bears too!"<br /><br />Gina shuddered, gazing sourly at the arrow. Then she threw it down to the floor. "And they were coming at us so fast! How can anyone shoot arrows that fast?"<br /><br />The car had reached the top of the mountain where the sun was beaming through the tree tops with almost blinding brilliance. The road leveled off and Julie floored the accelerator, wanting to put as much distance as possible between them and the attackers.<br /><br />"There had to be at least two of them," she explained in angry tones as the deep woods flew by. "Most likely, three. Those arrows were coming mighty quick. The latest hunting bows have quivers attached right to them that carry six or seven arrows. It's pretty easy to shoot one and then instantly another and another."<br /><br />Gina grunted comprehension, but then she was suddenly like, "But why would anyone want to shoot at us?"<br /><br />Julie looked at her uneasily, then reached over and squeezed the girl's arm to offer comfort. "I'm totally clueless, honey. I don't have the slightest idea why anyone would shoot deadly arrows at us. First of all, this is a National Forest. Hunters can hunt only in designated areas and that overlook terrace sure isn't one of them!<br /><br />"Secondly," Julie pulled in a gulping breath as she eased her foot up a little bit on the gas pedal, "hunters usually do not make a target of two sight-seers. Someone was trying to scare us, Gina, not kill us. We were too easy to hit for them to miss us by chance."<br /><br />Gina was cringing back against the seat's head rest, her lips set in a grim frown. Because of the big sunglasses the girl wore, Julie couldn't see the fear in her eyes, but she knew it was there.<br /><br />The girl insisted, "But who would do something like that? Could it be like a practical joke? Some guys just having some stupid fun at our expense?"<br /><br />Julie arched her brows thoughtfully, both hands back on the wheel. "No practical joke, kiddo. Hunters are generally too responsible to do that kind of thing. It's not likely they'd be anywhere around the overlook with quivers full of arrows and bows at the ready. Unless ....."<br /><br />Julie scowled, clamping her mouth shut, thinking, <i>No way! It couldn't possibly be ....</i><br /><br />"Unless what?" Gina asked, looking at her fearfully.<br /><br />Julie groaned. "Unless somebody was laying in wait for us. But of course, that's impossible. Who'd know we were coming this way and that we were going to stop there?"<br /><br />Gina was silent for a moment, then, "But everybody stops there, Julie. The odds are pretty good. Those are the only porta-johns on this road through the whole forest." Then the girl gasped, totally, "Oh no! What if it's the stalker from Hollywood?"<br /><br />Julie sideglanced the girl as the car roared around a bend in the highway. "How would he know you're coming through here? That is, if he's even out here in the East?"<br /><br />Gina shifted in the seat, one hand clutching the seat belt as if for her life. "He sure seemed to know everything I was doing back in Hollywood. He'd show up at the oddest places and I'd be like, 'How'd he know I was gonna be here?'"<br /><br />"Did he ever do anything violent?" Julie asked. "Like this arrow attack?"<br /><br />"Only once. Usually he'd just get near me and try to touch me. Jump out from the crowd, like. But one time he posed as a paparazzi, camera and all. We were in Disneyland, me and my mom and dad and Boom Boom. We let the photographers get closer to us than usual because it seemed so safe and tame there. And then the stalker dude went nuts. We hadn't even noticed it was <i>him</i>, it all seemed so totally okay. He was taking pictures one second and then he just jumped right on me the next! I'm suddenly like, 'Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Mom! Dad! Boom Boom! Help!' My mother was screaming and my dad and Boom Boom pulled him off me, and the park police came and took him away."<br /><br />Gina paused, shrugging her shoulders in consternation. "He's a really nice looking man in his thirties, Julie. Not a freak or a dork like you'd expect a stalker to be. But, of course, he's totally nuts and obsessed with me. You know how some fans can get so majorly obsessed."<br /><br />"What happened after that?" Julie asked. <br /><br />"We didn't press charges. He was released. My publicist was all, 'Gina, we don't want the publicity of a trial, not with the new CD and the movie coming out!' And we had to pay a whole chunk of money to buy up all the photos the other paparazzi had taken, so they wouldn't show up online or on the tabloid covers, or Entertainment Tonight!"<br /><br />Julie grinned. "I'm hip. You had to cover it up. <i>America's Pop Princess Attacked at Disneyland! </i>would definitely not be a cool headline story."<br /><br />"Right. You're in the business. You know. Sometimes you have to bend over backwards and even <i>pay</i> for a story <i>not</i> to get out there."<br /><br />"Well, it's not likely that he'd be here out in the Allegheny National Forest packing ammo for bow hunting season," Julie said decisively, "even if he did come out east from California. He might be able to tail you and your dad but he couldn't possibly know your pre-planned route in advance, so he could be there <i>befor</i></b></span></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>e</i> you."<br /><br />Gina looked thoughtful for a moment, then her quivering lips formed a little smile. "You're right. We didn't even discuss the route we'd take to Coudy. It's the way we like to come, so it's a natural. Even if we'd been overheard discussing the trip, which isn't likely, no one would've learned the route we were intending to take because it wasn't talked about."<br /><br />Julie nodded in agreement, glancing in the rear view mirror. The road behind, as far back as she could see, was clear. She'd been checking now and then as they sped along, but she hadn't seen even one vehicle behind them on the road. They were not being followed; that much she knew. She gritted her teeth with a hardened expression. <i>What sense did it make for someone to ambush Gina with a volley of deadly arrows?</i> Julie realized she had a sure-fire mystery on her hands.<br /><br />They passed through a couple tiny villages, both hardly more than small groupings of buildings, old houses and general stores, along the high country road. The sun continued to gleam down as if in total abandon, sending shafts of light piercing through the high tree tops to dazzle the colorful foliage of the lower growth shrubs and bush. The forest floor was a thick carpet of red, yellow, and orange.<br /><br />The girls continued to chat, shifting the topic to journalism, music, guys, Judy Bolton and the weekend ahead. They felt safe now, the dangerous episode far enough behind them. But Julie kept watching the rear view mirror. Experiences in her past had taught her never to let her guard down when danger was in the air. <br /><br />Gina looked out the window on Julie's side at the Bradford airport as they passed it by. There were only a couple small buildings, and the one long runway of the airfield ran down the middle of a huge open meadow literally on the top of the mountain they were on. <br /><br />The girl chuckled. "This airport cracks me up. Bradford is a few miles north of here, but it's <i>so</i> in the mountains that the flattest spot they could find to land planes is on a mountain top. I love it! Where I live in Erie is totally flat everywhere. Probably the flattest part of all Pennsylvania."<br /><br />Julie nodded at that. "Yep, P. A. is all about mountains, the heart of Appalachia. It's a theme used in many of the Judy Bolton books. Some written in the 1930s, like <i>The Voice in the Suitcase</i>, give a great historical description of life in Appalachia during the Great Depression."<br /><br />"That's such an eerie book," Gina enthused, calm and relaxed now. "It was so freakin' mysterious how that suitcase could talk, and weird how Judy had to houseclean for those people, of all things! But she did stay for Thanksgiving, at least. And it was so totally different from <i>The Yellow Phantom</i>, a couple books before it. In that one Judy was living in New York in a penthouse and working as a literary editor!"<br /><br />"And she was only sixteen at the time," Judy pointed out. "A very young editor, that's for sure. And don't forget the book in between, <i>The Mystic Ball</i>. She exposes that fraudulent Madame Wanda, who was doing that phoney fortune telling scam at the local theater."<br /><br />Gina was all, "Gosh, I love those books. Judy was just a girl from Pennsylvania, like <i>me</i>. An average girl, but she was really smart and clever. She had great parents, a fab brother in Horace, friends galore, and all those great mysteries to solve. And she was realistic, too. She made mistakes, got angry at her friends, even fought with them."<br /><br />"And she grew up and got married in the series, too," Julie added. "Something none of the other girl detective characters did back in those days."<br /><br />Gina smiled fondly, all dreamily, "I love it when Judy and Peter get married in<i> The Rain</i></b></span></span><i><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span></span></i><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>bow Riddle</i>. They have that awesome double wedding with Arthur and Lorraine at the Farringdon-Pett mansion, and the bridesmaids wore those rainbow color dresses. It was so romantic! I'd love to have my wedding there."<br /><br />"And to think, that book came out in 1946," Julie said. "That's fifty-seven years ago. Back in 1996 when it was Judy and Peter's 50th wedding anniversary, the Chamber of Commerce and the Judy Bolton fans reenacted the double wedding on the lawns outside the mansion, complete with those rainbow dresses on the bridesmaids. I sure wish I'd been there to see that!"<br /><br />Gina was all, "Oh, me too! That's right when I was first reading the Judys and I would have loved to see it. The Chamber of Commerce gave me a tour of the Farringdon-Pett mansion when I was in town last summer. It's really totally amazing in there. What a place!"<br /><br />Julie had seen the house several times but she had never been inside it. It was an old red brick Victorian mansion with twin towers set back on spacious lawns on route 6 at the eastern edge of Coudersport. Built in the lavish mid-19th century style favored by the lumber barons, the house was one of only a handful like it remaining from that era in the northern tier of the state.<br /><br />In the Judy Bolton books, the author had used the site as the Farringdon-Pett mansion, the home of Judy's friends Arthur and Lois Farringdon-Pett and their parents, Farringdon's leading family. In real life the house was the home of several generations of the Benton family, wealthy and important Potter County residents. The house's importance in the Judy Bolton books had made it a local tourist landmark, although it was impossible to get into the house unless you knew someone in high places.<br /><br />"I'd love to see the interior," Julie told Gina. "I know it's been empty a few years now since old Mrs. Benton has been living in the nursing home, but it's still filled with all her treasures, I've heard."<br /><br />Gina's turned to Julie with excitement, all, "Ohmygod! You should see it, Julie! Fab-ola! The house is so totally awesome and filled, and I mean <i>filled</i>, with tons of Victorian furniture, the real stuff from when the place was first built. It's like stepping back in time. And Mrs. Benton collected angels! They're all over the house, Julie, hundreds and hundreds of them! All sizes and shapes. Huge statues like from a church, others - oh, such dramatic ones, like from cemeteries. And smaller ones too, all over the place, porcelain, glass, china, wood, everything you can imagine. Angels everywhere! I'm sure that's why they're hesitant to let the fans tour the house. What with all the furniture and angels, you have to be very careful not to knock anything over."<br /><br />Julie's eyes widened at the thought of it. "Sounds so awesome, honey. I'd love to get in there and take some photos for my story. There's a rumor I heard from a couple of the fans that we might get inside this trip."<br /><br />"That'd be majorly cool. You'll love it, Julie. It's really spooky, too. All those winged statues everywhere really sets a weird atmosphere. And it's supposed to be <i>haunted!</i> Some kind of phantom who comes at midnight. The legend goes back to slavery days when the house was a stop on the Underground Railroad. You know, it's right on the little Allegheny there in town. They'd get the runaway slaves into boats and ferry them out into the woods on their way up to Canada and freedom. One of the young masters of the house is the ghost. He was the son of the owner back then and was helping a group of runaways into a boat when he got shot by raiding government agents. He fell into the river and drowned in the following confusion."<br /><br />Gina paused and took a deep breath, shuddering at the thought of such an incident. Then, "And to this day he haunts the place, appearing at midnight, the time of the raid, wrapped in the shroud he was buried in. Oooh, isn't it creepy? They call him the Midnight Phantom. Supposedly, that's why old Mrs. Benton went to the nursing home, because the phantom would appear to her and scare the bejeebies out of her. It'd be a scary ball to stay in <i>that </i>house!"<br /><br />"Maybe that's why she collected the angels?" Julie suggested, turning the wheel to round a bend on the highway. "To ward off the phantom? Could be. Some people believe that religious objects like that have mystical power of their own."<br /><br />She glanced in the rear view mirror again, and then went on, "There's some kind of mystery about that Benton woman and her family, something in the past. I heard about it but never had the time to look into it. We're always so busy on the Judy Bolton Day weekend. She had a son, a little boy, who died under mysterious circumstances years ago, oh like back in the 1940s. And the angel collection is supposed to have something to do with the matter."<br /><br />Gina gushed, "We can investigate! You've solved mysteries. You're a detective. Sounds like one of your adventures, like when you saved that movie star in her castle overlooking the lake. And I just loved that latest story of yours when you attended the Nancy Drew convention in New York City and solved that mystery at the old Stratemeyer mansion out in New Jersey. Julie, that was really something. So hu-u-u-u-ge! And the 9/11 connection about the missing girl just floored me!"<br /><br />"It sure was totally amazing," Julie agreed. "And who would ever think such a deep mystery could be solved from a clue in an old Nancy Drew book?" She chuckled. "Well, at least we know no such excitement can befall us in Potter County!"<br /><br />Then her eyes saw a car close behind them in the rear view mirror, and her mouth opened slowly in apprehension. She looked at Gina, all like, "Duh! I mean I <i>hope </i>nothing happens. That attack at the overlook has just got to be an isolated incident, don't you think?"<br /><br />Gina smiled and reached over, squeezing Julie's hand that was resting on the gear shift. "Yes, I <i>think</i> so. But I'm not scared anymore, Julie. We're okay for now and in a little while we'll meet up with Boom Boom, and for sure no one can harm me when he's around."<br /><br />Julie was relieved that the girl felt confident that things would be okay. She braked as the car began descending a long grade leading from the high country down to the valley that followed the Allegheny River along route 6 into Coudersport, where the river had its headwaters just north of town. As they neared the low country the forest began to thin out and houses began to appear along the road. A sign welcomed them to Smethport, a small industrial town on the Allegheny. Then they were driving through a pristine neighborhood of big old wood frame Victorian lumber baron mansions, all beautifully restored and lining the road like regal ladies happily showing off all their gingerbread.<br /><br />Gina was like, "I just totally love these houses! Don't they just kill you?"<br /><br />"They sure do," Julie agreed. "I live in an old Vickie in Jamestown, quite like these lovelies. My mom owns an antique shop and the house is filled with treasures. I have a two-floor suite in the tower, my bedroom and a circular staircase to the library above it. You'll have to come visit sometime. I can take you out to Baldwin Manor, the castle on Chautauqua Lake. It's a real French chateau, and you could meet Anne Baldwin."<br /><br />Gina smiled happily. "I'd love to, Julie. I adore watching her old movies. Oh, I'm so glad we met! I definitely need a really good friend who is totally hip about the entertainment biz but isn't Hollywood herself. Someone real. who I can totally trust. You are the bomb, Julie Kane!"<br /><br />Julie chuckled inwardly at the heartfelt compliment. She'd met so many big stars in her work, interviewed them all and, although they were mostly wonderful people with engaging personalities, Gina stood head and shoulders above them all. She hadn't become jaded by success and wealth and fame and the privileges and perks that came with them, nor by their pitfalls and negative repercussions. <br /><br />Route 59 ended at a curve in the road where it met route 6. The big houses fell back behind them and smaller homes began to line the road as they continued down into Smethport. It was a small town and they quickly dove through the business district and continued along route 6 with the color-splashed mountains up high around them now, glimpses of the river at their side. In no time they had passed through the towns of Allegany and Roulette and then a large wooden sign on the roadside welcomed them to 'God's Country', the local nickname for Potter County.<br /><br />AS they drove past the sign, Gina shouted, "Yay! We're in Potter County, Julie. Isn't it majorly huge just to be here? This place is just so totally special because it's where Judy Bolton lives!"<br /><br />Julie just smiled her agreement as the hills of forest flew by. Then the woods gave way to farms as they neared town, century-old farmhouses stately standing on hillocks overlooking meadows and grazing land. Black and white cows, horses, pigs and goats all watched the car speed by, looking as if they were wondering who was in it, where they were going, and why they themselves couldn't go too.<br /><br />Gina hunched her shoulders and sighed. "Farms! Wouldn't it be wonderful to be a farmer's wife? I mean, he'd have to be a real hunk of a guy, of course. And you could live with him in a place like these and raise a family and lead a wonderful peaceful life."<br /><br />Julie let out a little hoot, giggling like a child.<br /><br />Gina frowned questioningly. "What's so funny?"<br /><br />"You are!" was Julie's reply. "You have the single most fabulous life in the world right now. Like Elvis, or Marilyn Monroe. Madonna. I can see VH1 doing <i>The Fabulous Life of Gina Sabreen</i>. And here you are dreaming about being a farmer!"<br /><br />Gina tittered along with her. "Oh, you know what I mean. No matter what we may be doing, Julie, it all comes down to being in love, having a happy home, and raising a family. And no place would be more dreamy to do it in than here in Potter County!"<br /><br />To that, Julie snorted, all. "Maybe you, honey. But not <i>me</i>. No way. I may settle down on a farm one day with the love of my life, but it won't be for a long, long time. I have to go, go, go, girl. All over the world! <i>Before</i> all that!"<br /><br />The 'Welcome to Coudersport' sign greeted the girls from the side of the road and Julie slowed the car down. Residential homes and businesses like beverage stores, car dealers, government offices and pizza shops began to line the highway. Not a minute later she turned into the parking lot of the Westgate Inn, situated between a produce store and a government farm aid office. Across the street was a car wash and a huge General Motors car dealership.<br /><br />"Home sweet home," Julie said with a sigh. "Or should I say 'our Potter County home away from home?'"<br /><br />Gina unbuckled her seat belt. "It's so cool to be back here! This is more exciting than when I arrived in Rome in the spring. Oh," she pointed to a black Cadillac sedan parked in the lot, all, "That's Boom Boom's car. He's already here. Good! Let's not say anything to him about the incident at the overlook, okay? He'll just get all totally chronic over it and try to keep me on a leash."<br /><br />Julie pulled into a parking space near the big sedan, her brow furrowing. "Okay, for now we won't tell him. But we have to discuss this, Gina. He has a right to know. It's his job to protect you."<br /><br />"Okay, we'll talk about it later. Maybe we can tell him tomorrow? I'd just really like one evening free from being kept in his pocket!"<br /><br />The motel was a three-storey modern building looking very much like a Holiday Inn. Coudersport was too small a town to boast a motel belonging to a nationwide chain, and the Westgate was locally owned as were most of the others in the area. It was right on the shore of the Allegheny River, at this point small and narrow, a little wider than a creek. The river's headwaters were located north of town and it wound through Coudersport growing in size as it moved on west through the mountains whose creeks fed it.<br /><br />"Looks like some of the other Judy Bolton fans are here too," Julie observed as the girls clambered out of the car. There were several other cars parked in the lot and she recognized a couple of them as belonging to her book friends. "Some will arrive today, early birds like us, and others tomorrow on Friday. Let's check in first and then we'll come back later for the luggage."<br /><br />Gina agreed and the girls entered the lobby. A middle-aged couple was registering at the front desk and there were others sitting on the suites of furniture in the spacious lobby. One group was by a table where Julie knew the continental breakfast was laid out every morning. The big coffee pot was there and a tray of donuts and brownies, and Julie recognized those around it as Judy Bolton fans.<br /><br />It only took a few seconds for them to spot her and raise their voices in chorus.<br /><br />"Julie Kane!"<br /><br />"Hey, Julie Kane is here!"<br /><br />"Terrific! Now the fun begins!"<br /><br />Instantly the members of the group were on their feet. They rushed across the room and circled around Julie and Gina.<br /><br />The Sabreen girl whirled around, eyes wide with amusement. She was all, "This is so entirely cool, Julie! It's <i>you</i> they're making a fuss over, not me. They don't even know who I am. I love it!"<br /><br />Gina stepped inside, giving the people room to fuss and fawn over Julie. They looked at her curiously but they were busy shaking Julie's hand, smooching her cheek, and patting her back. There were a dozen or so of them, mostly women. and a few men, too. At length, when the buzz died down a little bit, Julie introduced them all to Gina, who knew she'd never remember all the names and was glad they were all wearing name tags, along with pin-back buttons advertising <i>The Vanishing Shadow</i>, the movie.<br /><br />Then they were totally all over Gina, exclaiming about her Judy Bolton red hair, her singing and acting and her role in the movie. Questions were flung at her like rice at a bride as they wanted to know all about the filming the past summer and what it was like to be the girl picked to portray Judy Bolton on the screen. It took about ten minutes for this new excitement to subside and finally most of the fans drifted away with promises of catching up with them later.<br /><br />Remaining were Diana Gordon and Parks Boniface, the two fans who had been organizing the Judy Bolton Day weekends since the beginning. Both were middle-aged and a little older than Gina's parents, the girl was thinking. To her, the blonde Diana looked like she could have had a career as an Italian movie queen a couple decades ago and Parks, dressed in jeans, a camouflage sweatshirt, and wearing a hunting cap, very handsome and rugged, could've been one of her dad's hunting buddies. They both assured the girl that her presence among them this weekend was nothing short of totally fabulous.<br /><br />"I'm bonkers to be here myself," she let them know, all, "And I came here with Julie Kane, girl reporter! Is that cool or what?"<br /><br />"The epitome of cool, I'd say," laughed Parks, eying both of the girls approvingly. "Two redheads are always better than one, you know, and you look enough alike to be sisters."<br /><br />"Maybe even twins," Diana agreed, stepping back to look at them better. "And, of course, you both look like Judy Bolton. Hmm ... will the real Judy please raise her hand?"<br /><br />Laughing, Gina raised hers. She was like, "Yo, that's me. I'm still officially Judy through this weekend. But of course," she turned to Julie, "the fab Miss Kane here can easily take my place if needs be."<br /><br />"Nothing of the sort," Julie was quick to reply. "We'll have a total dragnet covering you to keep you in check. You'll not escape the watchful eyes of the Judy Bolton fans!"<br /><br />Parks excused himself and left for the assembly room to make name tags for Julie and Gina and fetch them <i>The Vanishing Shadow </i>buttons. Gina watched him walk away and let out a little sigh. "Hunk-dude! He looks like the stuntmen back at the studio, not a literary group coordinator."<br /><br />Diana and Julie chuckled. "Oh, he's a real character, Parks is," Julie told the girl. "He helped me solve that mystery at the Nancy Drew convention in New York last summer. We had a ball. And not only that, we faced some pretty serious dangers together."<br /><br />"I know. I remember the story you wrote about it," Gina said. "I guess it'd be sort of fun to be in serious danger with him, huh?"<br /><br />Julie snorted and didn't answer, so Diana butted in, "Julie flirts with him shamelessly."<br /><br />Julie grinned. "Of course I do. I flirt with all the guys. A girl has to use her God-given charms to make her way in the world. Besides, he's old enough to be my dad."<br /><br />"Which, I suspect, makes the flirting all the more fun?" Gina teased.<br /><br />"You got it, girl," Julie tossed back. Then, "Diana here is America's number one Judy Bolton fan. She and Parks started the Judy Bolton revival back in 1991 and now fifty, sixty or more fans show up here every year for Judy Bolton Day. The town and the residents all get involved and all 38 of the books in the series are now being reprinted by Applewood Books."<br /><br />Diana, dressed conservatively in slacks and a sweatshirt decorated with pumpkins and black cats, tried to play down the praise. "Plenty of others helped along the way," she told Gina, "and most of them will be here too this weekend. They'll all be happy to meet you and interested in what you still have to do for the movie."<br /><br />"They'll be shooting footage at the parade on Saturday for a music video," Gina told her. "The song featured in the movie. That's why my hair is still red."<br /><br />Diana nodded. "We had heard something about that. In fact, we were discussing the parade when you girls came in." The woman sighed happily. "All this and a parade too. What a terrific time we'll have! Oh, and I have a special bit of news, Julie." she added, lowering her voice. "I received a special invitation from the Chamber of Commerce for three or four of us to spend the night at the Farringdon-Pett mansion tonight, the Benton house. I'm going to stay there, maybe Parks, and you two gals are definitely included to join us. Won't we have fun?"<br /><br />"I'd love to!" Julie cried. "What an experience that'll be. I doubt I'd get any sleep. And I can photograph the interior for my Lifestyles article about Judy Bolton Day weekend."<br /><br />But Gina only groaned with disappointment. "Oh, man, I'd love to go too. But I know my bodyguard won't go along with it. He'd want to be there too. He's just such a stickler to the formula when it comes to protecting me."<br /><br />"Uh - oh," Julie interrupted her, watching as a man approached them coming down one of the hallways leading to the first floor rooms.<br /><br />He was a tall black man, huge as a brick wall like an NFL linebacker, and he was dressed like a rapper in baggy jeans and tee-shirt with the usual bling jewelry around his neck. His shaved head topped a handsome face of rugged features and Julie thought him to be very attractive in a tough-but-sexy way.<br /><br />But, unfortunately, the expression on his face wasn't attractive at all. It was plain awful angry. He was staring at Gina and positively glaring. Julie knew that the man had to be Boom Boom, Gina's bodyguard, and that he was apparently very angry at her.<br /><br />Julie grabbed Gina's shoulder and turned her in the direction of the approaching man.<br /><br />"Lookit!" she whispered. "Is that Boom Boom?"<br /><br />Diana turned to look, too, as the Sabreen girl gulped audibly. <br /><br />"Yipes!" Gina gasped, all, "Ohmygod! Darn it! It's Boom Boom and he's really pissed. He must've talked to my dad and found out I came here with you, Julie. Yobs, girl, <i>we are really gonna get it!"<br /><br /><span style="color: red;">Chapter Four coming soon!</span></i></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></span>stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-35287916578271401232013-09-09T17:06:00.001-07:002018-10-06T15:59:05.609-07:00LOST DANA GIRLS MYSTERY!<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">THE LOST DANA GIRLS MYSTERY!</span></b></h2>
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<b style="color: red; font-size: 27.648px;">THE SECRET OF THE ICE CASTLE</b></div>
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Now available on WATTPAD<br />ONLINE and FREE!</h2>
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<a href="https://www.wattpad.com/story/100073027-the-secret-of-the-ice-castle">Click HERE for Wattpad version!</a></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><i>This is a full-length fanfiction mystery in the original 1930s<br />Mildred Wirt style. It takes place at a haunted English manor house<br />in the hills north of Penfield in which a flute-playing ghost roams<br />the halls on long winter nights accompanied by a wolf.<br />Shift the scene to nearby frozen Indian Lake and a white stone<br />castle on Spirit Island where the local Indian burial grounds<br />were once the scene of a notorious crime.<br />Louise and Jean are asked to solve this mystery from<br />both the past and present, and they meet up with thrills and chills<br />as they track down clues in the bleak winter landscape.<br /></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">What the reviewers said ten years ago ....</span><br />
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<b>"</b>It was just like reading one of the original novels by McFarlane<br />
or Benson. I just want to say thanks for making such a delightful gift<br />
available to all of us."<br />
<b style="color: #2f2f2f; font-style: italic;">.....Frank Quillen, series books aficionado<br /></b></div>
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<i style="color: #2f2f2f;">"</i>This 'new' original-style Dana has all the literary plot<br />
development of the first (Danas). The strong setting, the familiar<br />
leading characters, the pranks, thecoincidences<br />
(I love those coincidences), and an unusual mystery - all ring<br />
very true to the series book series, Dana Girls."<br />
<b><i style="color: #2f2f2f;">....Susabella Passengers, series books fanzine</i></b></div>
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"The Secret of the Ice Castle is marked by a high sense of adventure.<br />
It is a gripping mystery that compelled my attention<br />
throughout the reading. I was more than pleasantly surprised<br />
to read it, and gladly give it a 9+."<br />
<b style="color: #2f2f2f; font-style: italic;">....David M. Baumann, Starman series author</b></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I thought this Dana Girls fanfiction mystery was lost when my computer with its files crashed and AOL did away with its webspace at the same time. But Google had it archived! Yay, Google! So now we'll use those pages until I get a new site set up!</span></b></div>
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<b style="color: #2f2f2f; font-style: italic;">old Aol version:</b></h3>
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Click <a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20050204135341/http://members.aol.com/seriesbook2/castle1.html">HERE</a> for Part 1<br />
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Click<a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20050204140306/http://members.aol.com/seriesbook2/castle2.html"> HERE</a> for Part 2<br />
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Click<a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20050204140938/http://members.aol.com/seriesbook2/castle3.html"> HERE</a> for Part 3<br />
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Click HERE for Part 4<br />
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stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-20900535638110252492013-09-03T20:29:00.000-07:002013-09-04T09:27:40.407-07:00DANA GIRLS ICE CASTLE 2<div align="Center">
<big><span style="color: white;">nancy drew nancy drew nancy drew </span></big></div>
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<big>Complete text of this full-length Dana Girls mystery online now <br />at this alternate site:</big><br />
<big><a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20040414080004/http://members.aol.com/seriesbook2/castle1.html">Dana Girls: The Secret of the Ice Castle </a></big><br />
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<b><span style="color: maroon; font-size: small;">A 1930s Dana Girls fan fiction mystery: </span></b><span style="color: #ff0080;"><br /></span><span style="color: red;"><big><big><big>THE SECRET OF THE ICE CASTLE</big></big></big></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">An eerie twin-towered castle of white stone on an ice-bound island on a frozen winter lake, a nearby English manor house haunted by a ghostly flute-playing figure who roams the halls at night accompanied by a wolf, and a mysterious kidnapped girl from the past all come together in one of the most thrilling Dana Girls cases ever!</span><br /><br />"It was just like reading one of the original novels by McFarlane or Benson."<br />............. Frank Quillen, series book aficionado<br /></b><br /><b>"This 'new' original-style Dana has all the literary plot development of the first, the strong setting, the familiar leading characters, the pranks, the coincidences (I love those coincidences!), and an unusual mystery - all ring very true to the series books series, Dana Girls."<br />............ SUSABELLA PASSENGERS, series books fanzine<br /><br /><br />"<i>THE SECRET OF THE ICE CASTLE</i> is marked by a high sense of adventure. It is a gripping mystery that compelled my attention throughout the reading. I was more than pleasantly surprised to read it, and gladly give it a 9+."<br />............ David M. Baumann, Starman series author</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;">Chapter Two: A SURPRISE INVITATION<br /><br /><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The old crone's face bore a hostile expression as she stopped in front
of the tower and planted her feet firmly in the snow. She made a movement
with the rifle indicating that the girls should move on.<br /><br /><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Just skate yourselves right away from here, young ladies. We shall
have no visitors here at Spirit Island!"<br /><br /><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Louise stared at the woman agape for a moment, then her cheeks began
to burn red with indignation. "We skated close to shore to get a look at
the castle," she told the woman. "We are not committing any crime."<br /><br /><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Furthermore," added Jean, a scowl on her face and her hands on her
hips, "we happen to know that this property belongs to Rutherford Symington,
for whom our uncle captains a luxury liner. I'm sure he'd not mind the nieces
of a loyal and important employee taking a close look at his property."<br /><br /><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The old woman's expression altered slightly, but her beady eyes narrowed
as she lowered the rifle so it was no longer aimed directly at the girls.
"Then be off with you! You have come as close as the law allows. This island
is private property and no trespassing is allowed."<br /><br /><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Evelyn, too, had an insulted expression on her face. "We are students
at Starhurst School for Girls," she said. "My parents used to socialize with
the Symingtons. It is an outrage to be threatened with a firearm when we
have done no wrong."<br /><br /><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Louise gave Evelyn an encouraging smile, then turned back to the fur-clad
crone. "How do we know you have a right to be here? As far as anyone knows,
the castle is no longer inhabited. What are <i>you </i>doing here?"<br /><br /><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The woman's eyes were like black stones, and they flashed angrily
at Louise. She raised the rifle and screeched, "I will not be questioned
by nosy trespassers!"<br /><br /><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The rifle cracked and a loud report split the peaceful wintry calm
as a bullet whizzed over the girls' heads. All three of them cringed as they
ducked down, knowing that the shot had been much too close for comfort.<br /><br /><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Go away and don't come back!" the hostile woman shouted.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Evelyn had turned and began to quickly skate away. Needing no further
urging, Louise and Jean were soon at her side and the trio sped for
shore.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Goodness! Who is that woman and what is she doing there?" asked Jean
breathlessly, tossing a quick look back over her shoulder. "And what is she hiding?" Louise wanted to know. "I doubt that Mr.
Symington has an armed guard protecting his Ice Castle from
trespassers."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Especially an old witch like that," Evelyn agreed. "Just imagine!
Being fired upon while ice skating!"<br /><br /></b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"It's outrageous," put in Jean. "We shall go to the authorities
immediately."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"I have a better idea," Louise said. "We'll have Uncle Ned ask Mr.
Symington if his Ice Castle is being guarded. I strongly suspect that he
doesn't know anything about that woman."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Jean nodded in agreement, her eyes alight. "It appears we have stumbled
upon a mystery, girls. Something very strange is going on at Spirit
Island!"<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Mysteries were nothing new to the Dana girls. They had a knack of
running into them wherever they went, and they had in the past proved themselves
of being capable to follow them out to satisfying conclusions. Upon beginning
their studies at Starhurst School for Girls, Jean and Louise solved their
first mystery when they found the missing Starr jewels by the light of a
study lamp. Many other strange and sinister cases followed and the girls
gained a name for themselves as amateur detectives in and around Penfield.
Recently, while on a holiday trip to New York City, the sisters had come
to the aid of a homeless woman and solved the mystery of <i>The Specter in
the Snow</i>. Now, it appeared they were on the verge of another startling
riddle, this one concerning the Ice Castle of Spirit Island.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The three girls had rounded the point on the island's end when Jean
suddenly exclaimed, "Look! In the woods! I just saw a flash of red."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>She was pointing to the back shore of the island that they were quickly
approaching. Louise and Evelyn followed her gaze, but there was nothing to
be seen in the thickly wooded area leading up from the shore.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Maybe it was a bird," Evelyn suggested. "A cardinal, perhaps."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Jean pointed. "No, there it is again!"<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Louise pushed on forward. "I see it too. It looks like someone moving
through the trees. Somebody in a red coat!"<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Yes, now I see," Evelyn agreed. "Who can it be? Don't tell me there
is a second person inhabiting this island."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"We shall soon find out," Jean said, skating on and pulling the other
two girls along with her. "Something strange is going on here and I feel
it is our obligation to investigate."<br /><br /></b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"My feelings exactly," Louise replied quickly, with a nod of her head.
"Uncle Ned is an employee of Mr. Symington's, and our family's good fortune
depends on the stability of the shipping company. Something might be going
on here that possibly could undermine it."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>With that noble purpose in mind, the three Starhurst girls skated
closer to the shore scrutinizing the woods for the red-coated stranger.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"There," Evelyn whispered as they reached the thick trees at the edge
of the woods. "Someone is leaning against a tree."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>In the gathering gloom about twenty yards from shore a figure wearing
a red hooded jacket could be seen leaning against the trunk of a thick old
tree.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"He or she must be resting," Louise said in low tones. She pointed
at the ground on shore. "Look, there are footprints here in the snow."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Jean nodded. "That hooded figure must have walked across the ice from
the shore and is now headed to the Ice Castle."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Shall we follow?" Evelyn asked apprehensively, still wary of being
near the island. "What if this person is armed too?"<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Jean and Louise were not eager to approach the stranger after the
recent experience with the angry woman with the rifle, but their curiosity
demanded that they do something. Deciding on a different tact, Louise
cupped her hands around her mouth and called out:<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Hello! Hello there!"<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Startled, the mysterious figure whirled away from the tree and spun
around, showing a pale wide-eyed face framed by the red hood.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Why, it's just a girl," Jean exclaimed. "She can't be any older than
us."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Immediately, the pale-faced figure spun back around and began thrashing
through the trees and underbrush in the direction of the Ice Castle on the
other side of the island.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Oh, don't go," Louise cried out. "Stop!"<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Instinctively, all three girls had stepped onto the shore and started
to run after the retreating figure. However, even though the snow was deep
and offered some support, running along the ground on ice skates proved to
be difficult.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"We'll never catch up to her," Jean groaned as they watched the girl
disappear into the gloomy forest.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Evelyn grunted in agreement. "I should think we'd break an ankle
first."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"I wonder who she is," Louise mused as they slowed their pace. She
momentarily grabbed onto a tree for support. "Just watch your step. Perhaps
we can follow her tracks for a while."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Cautiously, the girls plodded on as they followed the footprints of
the hooded stranger. But soon their ankles began to ache from the effort,
and a light snow had begun to fall.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"We had better turn back," Evelyn suggested. "It is getting dark and
it's snowing too. We must return to the lodge and get our boots, then hurry
back to Starhurst. And I don't think it wise to get too close to the Ice
Castle again."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Jean and Louise agreed, although if it were earlier and they were
wearing boots they both would go on further. The direction in which they
were headed would eventually lead them to the back of the Ice Castle, and
their natural curiosity to get to the bottom of a mystery would spurn them
on regardless of the woman's warning, although they certainly would proceed
with great caution.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"We'll come back another day," Louise declared, as they turned to
go back. "And we'll carry our boots out to the island so we can
investigate."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Wait a minute," Jean called out, tapping upon a tree at her side.
"This is the tree that the girl was leaning on when you called to her, Louise.
Look! a piece of cloth from her coat is snagged on this little knob."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The knob was a small spike from a broken branch. Louise picked off
the small piece of red wool that was stuck onto it and turned it over in
her glove.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"It must have torn off when she whirled around," Evelyn
surmised.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Most likely," Louise agreed. "It's not much to go on, but at least
it's a clue."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Oh!"<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The other two girls heard Jean gasp and watched as she dropped to
her knees and thrust her hand into a tangled thicket next to the tree. A
moment later she withdrew a small leather case.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"The girl must have dropped this when we startled her," she said
excitedly, getting back on her feet and brushing the snow off the zippered
case. "This could be something important. Shall we look at the
contents?"<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Louise looked up at the falling snow and shook her head in dismay.
"We really must hurry home. It's dark now and snowing, and we have quite
a hike ahead of us. Let's save it for later and look at the contents after
dinner. And," she added with a smile, "it gives us a definite reason to come
back here. We'll have to return the case to its owner."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Although they were intensely curious about the contents of the mysterious
case, the girls were in complete agreement that they must hurry back to
Starhurst. Jean pocketed the case along with the piece of cloth, and they
made their way back through the woods in the descending gloom and quickening
snowfall.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Once back on the ice the going was easier and the girls discussed
their recent experience as they skated across the open reaches. Jean wondered
if the woman with the rifle could be an Indian woman, for there once had
been tribes living along the lake.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"It is possible," Evelyn responded. "That would explain the furs and
long thick hair. There is a reservation across the lake and some Indians
still live there, although many have moved away as they integrate into
society."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"We know one thing for sure," Louise commented. "The island is not
haunted by ghosts and apparitions. That woman and the girl were as real as
you and me. And the light in the tower window and the rifle were real
too."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>They all three cringed at the memory of the bullet whizzing over their
heads and quickened their pace. Within minutes they stepped ashore in front
of Forest Lodge and hurried onto the long verandah that spanned the front
of the old log building to change into their boots. They had left them on
a shelf in a storage area for skis, snowshoes, and other sporting gear across
from the front windows. No guests were outdoors at the moment and the place
seemed almost deserted. But the girls knew that the dinner hour was near
and they could see a few people milling around in the cozy interior.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Wouldn't it be fun to stay here tonight?" Jean suggested after they
had changed from their skates. <br /><br /><br /><br />"We could get a room with a fireplace, have
a delicious meal, then get up at dawn and skate out to explore Spirit
Island."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Evelyn chuckled grimly as they stepped off the verandah. "We'd be
in a real stew with Professor and Mrs. Crandall if we stayed, although it
certainly would be a lot of fun. Let's hope we get back to Starhurst in time
for the dinner bell, lest we get in trouble for being late."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Jean and Louise knew exactly what Evelyn was hinting at. Lettie Briggs,
a fellow student who was very jealous of the Dana girls and their friends,
was always looking for a reason to get them in trouble. Even if they could
sneak into the dining room after the bell had rung, Lettie would surely call
it to everyone's attention.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The falling snow, however, remained on the lighter side and did not
hamper the girls' progress. They hurried along the winding road which skirted
Indian Lake and soon arrived at the highway which led into Penfield. They
were highly invigorated from the afternoon spent outdoors in the cold weather
and made quick time back to the grounds of the highly regarded school for
girls.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"What an adventure we had at Indian Lake today!" Evelyn exclaimed
as they entered the dormitory through a back service door, stomping the snow
from their boots. "We'll have to meet later to inspect the contents of the
leather case we found."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Come to our study after dinner," Louise invited as they hurried up
the stairs. "We'll open the case and, hopefully, whatever is in it will shed
some light on this new mystery."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Neither the Dana girls nor Evelyn saw the other girl who was standing
just within a utility closet on the landing. The girl pressed herself to
the wall as she heard the happy voices and her eyes widened at the word
<i>mystery</i>. She waited until the other girls had gone upstairs, then
hurriedly ran up to her own suite.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The girl was Ina Mason, the one and only friend of the troublesome
Lettie Briggs, with whom she roomed in the dormitory. She burst into their
suite calling:
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Lettie! Lettie!"
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Why, what is it, Ina?" Lettie Briggs responded, standing before a
mirror and admiring a new fur hat she had purchased that afternoon.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"It's the Dana girls," Ina said breathlessly. "They hurried into the
back door downstairs while I was emptying our waste basket. Evelyn Starr
was with them. They'd been ice skating at Indian Lake and had an adventure!
They found a new mystery and also a leather case someone obviously lost.
They are meeting in the Dana's study after dinner to open it."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Lettie slowly removed her new hat, eyeing her chum speculatively in
the mirror. Her pinched and rather unpleasant-looking face wore a sly smile.
<br /><br /><br /><br />"Good work, Ina! I'm dying to know all about it, of course."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>She handed the new hat to her friend. "Please put this away for me.
I'll go eavesdrop by their door in hopes of learning more. I'll meet you
in the dining room for dinner."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>The girl quickly made her way to the hall outside the Dana suite,
in which Jean and Louise were changing into clothes suitable for the dining
room. The leather case and piece of red wool had been placed on a table next
to the sofa in their study and Jean, now dressed in a skirt and sweater,
retrieved them to place in a desk drawer.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Oh look," she called to Louise. "Someone brought in our mail
earlier."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>She put the case and piece of cloth safely into the top drawer and
picked up the envelopes that had been placed on the desk. She was flipping
through them as Louise came into the study from the bedroom.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"One is from Uncle Ned!" Jean cried, retaining it in her hand as she
placed the others back on the desk top.<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"Do open it," Louise urged, checking her wrist watch. "We have a couple
minutes to spare before we have to be in the dining room."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Jean quickly slit the envelope with a letter opener and pulled out
the missive from their beloved uncle. As she scanned the sheet an astonished
expression came over her face. <br /><br /><br /><br />"What is it?" Louise asked. "You look quite amazed."<br /><br /><br />
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>"I certainly am!" Jean exclaimed. "We have been invited along with
Uncle Ned and Aunt Harriet to spend the weekend at Bleak Acres, the Symington
estate outside Penfield. There have been strange goings-on at the old mansion,
terrifying Mr. Symington and his wife. And Uncle Ned seems to think that
you and I can solve the mystery!"
</b></span></div>
<div align="Left">
</div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><i><span style="color: red;">Read the complete novel on the website listed above!</span></i></b></span></div>
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stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-63181979682468048432013-09-03T12:57:00.000-07:002013-09-03T14:35:42.727-07:00DANA GIRLS ICE CASTLE 1<div align="Center">
<big><span style="color: white;">nancy drew nancy drew nancy drew </span></big></div>
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<big>Complete text of this full-length Dana Girls mystery online now <br />at this alternate site:</big><br />
<big><a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20040414080004/http://members.aol.com/seriesbook2/castle1.html">Dana Girls: The Secret of the Ice Castle </a></big><br />
<big> </big></div>
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<b><span style="color: maroon; font-size: small;">A 1930s Dana Girls fan fiction mystery:
</span></b><span style="color: #ff0080;"><br />
</span><span style="color: red;"><big><big><big>THE SECRET OF THE ICE
CASTLE</big></big></big></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: blue;">An eerie twin-towered castle of white stone on an ice-bound island on a frozen winter lake, a nearby English manor house haunted by a ghostly flute-playing figure who roams the halls at night accompanied by a wolf, and a mysterious kidnapped girl from the past all come together in one of the most thrilling Dana Girls cases ever!<br /><br />"It was just like reading one of the original novels by McFarlane or Benson."<br />............. Frank Quillen, series book aficionado<br /><br />"This 'new' original-style Dana has all the literary plot development of the first, the strong setting, the familiar leading characters, the pranks, the coincidences (I love those coincidences!), and an unusual mystery - all ring very true to the series books series, Dana Girls."<br />............ SUSABELLA PASSENGERS, series books fanzine<br /><br />"<i>THE SECRET OF THE ICE CASTLE</i> is marked by a high sense of adventure. It is a gripping mystery that compelled my attention throughout the reading. I was more than pleasantly surprised to read it, and gladly give it a 9+."<br />............ David M. Baumann, Starman series author</span></div>
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<span style="color: green;"><i><small> </small></i></span>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;">Chapter One: THE ICE CASTLE<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"I feel as if I can skate right into the sunset. Don't you?" asked
impetuous fair-haired Jean Dana as she did a spin on the ice, the skirt of
her stylish skating suit twirling out about her.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Her older sister Louise, whose dark hair and sedate expression gave
indication of a more serious personality, was skating right behind her. "It's
several miles to the hills across the lake," she said, a slight smile quirking
her lips. "To catch that sunset you'll surely have to put some speed
on!"<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"Six miles, to be exact," agreed the Dana girls' friend Evelyn Starr,
who was ice skating with them on frozen Indian Lake. "The sun will have set
and gone by the time we shall get there."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">The three girls were on a winter outing in early January, enjoying
an afternoon away from their studies at Starhurst School for Girls, located
near Penfield. The beautiful lake, situated in the hills just north of the
school, was a popular resort area in the summer months, but it seemed isolated
and remote now in the chill of winter. They had changed into their skates
and left their boots on the verandah of Forest Lodge, where there had been
evidence of a few guests in residence, but no one else was in sight now as
they executed their spins and turns on the smoothly frozen bay.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"I don't think we shall actually go clear to the far shore," Jean
laughed gaily, stopping her spin with the toe of a skate. "But what say we
skate out to that island?"<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">She pointed to a wooded island perhaps a half mile ahead where the
bay opened up into the lake. Already it was beginning to look like a black
silhouette against the red and purple sky.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Evelyn look startled. "That's Spirit Island! Goodness, no one dares
to go there."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Louise sent her a curious glance. "Why ever not? What could possibly
keep people away from such a lovely island?"<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"It's said to be haunted," Evelyn said plainly. "You have never heard
the legends?"<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Jean shook her head. "No, we haven't. Remember that Louise and I have
only been in the region since we've been attending Starhurst. We did not
grow up here as you have."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Evelyn nodded. It was true that she had lived near Penfield all her
life. Starhurst School for Girls had been her family home. Through a series
of misfortunes her parents had been forced to sell the old mansion and its
sprawling grounds. Professor and Mrs. Crandall, the school's headmistress,
had purchased the property and turned it into the exclusive academy. Evelyn
had been able to stay on at Starhurst as a student thanks to the Dana girls'
effort in finding a cache of missing family jewels, which had restored good
fortune to the girl and her brother after their parents' deaths.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"Haunted?" Louise said with a laugh, grabbing her companions' hands
and pulling them along with her. "Come, let's skate a little closer and you
can tell us all about it."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Evelyn went along reluctantly. "Well, not too close, okay? There is
an old Indian burial ground on the island and the ghosts of the dead Indians
are said to haunt it."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"That's a delightful legend," Jean grinned, her eyes sparkling. "I'm
surprised you allow it to frighten you, Evelyn."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">The girl shook her head. "You don't understand. There is far more
to the story." She pointed ahead. "Look. You'll be able to see as soon as
we round this point."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Gliding swiftly on the smooth ice, they had neared the wooded island
and were approaching a narrow point that jutted out from its main body. Louise
was just about to ask what it was that they'd soon see, when the words she
was about to emit were suddenly stilled on her lips.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"My goodness!" was all she could say instead, as they glided around
the end of the point.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"Oh .... it's so ... beautiful!" Jean fairly gushed, as the trio came
to a halt in front of the main part of Spirit Island that faced the open
reaches of the lake. <br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"It's beautiful, all right," Evelyn agreed, her voice slightly aquiver.
"But terrifying too. You see, like the island, it's haunted, and few people
dare to venture even this close."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Set into a clearing about a hundred feet from the island's shore was
a castle-like structure of white stone, now glittering like a smoldering
fire as it reflected the setting sun it faced. Its many leaded windows gleamed
like jewels, and two towers with crenellated battlements, one on each side,
loomed above the rest of the gabled roof line.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"This gorgeous house is haunted?" Louise gasped in awe. "It looks
like a castle of ice, created by a wizard for a magical winter
carnival."</span></b> <b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /><br />"Exactly," Evelyn agreed. "It is known as 'The Ice Castle' and was
built by aging shipping magnate Rutherford Symington as a winter retreat
years ago when he was a young man."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"Why, his company owns the Balaska, Uncle Ned's ship," Jean said
excitedly.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">The Dana girls' uncle, Ned Dana, was the captain of a large steamship
which traveled to all ports world-wide. His home was in nearby Oak Falls
and he shared it with his maiden sister Harriet, the girls' aunt, and the
girls themselves when they were not in attendance at Starhurst. Orphaned
at an early age, they had grown up under the loving care of their aunt and
uncle. Cora Appel, a somewhat dimwitted but loyal servant whom the girls
nicknamed 'Applecore', was also part of the household.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"But why is the castle reputed to be haunted?" Louise wanted to know.
"What haunts it? The ghosts of the Indians?"<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">As they skated a little closer to the glittering white castle nestled
in its wintry setting amongst tall bare trees and towering fir and pine,
Evelyn told them the story of the unusual habitation.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"Rutherford Symington grew up at Bleak Acres, the family estate not
far from Penfield. He vacationed here at Indian Lake in his youth. He stayed
at Forest Lodge and would often row out to this island, even though the legends
made it taboo to hike about the old burial grounds."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Louise nodded sagely. "A young man, especially one from a wealthy
and prominent family, would surely pay no mind to ancient taboos of a primitive
people."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"He habitually vacationed here in the winter," Evelyn continued, "for
he was an avid cold weather and winter sports enthusiast. As the years went
by and he took over the management of the family's shipping interests, he
had more and more of a need for a nearby place to which to retreat. So he
purchased the island from the government with the provision that he must
leave the burial ground areas untouched. They are on the other end of the
island. On this end he built his winter castle with rare special white limestone
imported from far off Nova Scotia.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"Many happy times were had at the Ice Castle, despite the scary legends
of the island. That never stopped the Symingtons and their friends from coming
here. Until ....."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Evelyn shuddered and looked wide-eyed at the ornate house with its
beautiful twin towers.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"Until what?" Jean begged, enrapt by the story. <br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"Rutherford had married in his early twenties," Evelyn went on. "Within
a year his wife gave birth to Baby Lorraine. She was a golden vision, this
beautiful child, like her lovely mother. My parents knew the Symingtons and
often socialized with them. Little Lorraine was a wonderful child and everyone
loved her dearly."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Louise's brow knit in a furrow and she frowned. "Something happened
to her, didn't it? Something dreadful?"<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"You are right," the Starr girl nodded. "She was kidnapped at the
age of ten while the family was vacationing here on the island. It was a
sensational case that made headlines across the nation. We, of course, were
too young to remember it. The Symingtons despaired at the loss of their golden
Lorraine. You see, to this day she has never been seen again."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">A gloved hand flew to Jean's heart. "The poor child! I wonder what
happened to her?"<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"No one knows," Evelyn said with a sad sigh. "Many leads were tracked
down throughout the years, but not a trace of the girl was found."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"Were there no demands for ransom?" Jean queried.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Evelyn shook her head. "That was one of the many unusual aspects of
the case. Even though there had been signs of a struggle and abduction, there
were never any demands for ransom. It was as if the child disappeared
off the face of the earth. Afterward, the Ice Castle was closed up, never
to be used again by the family because of the memories here.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"But," the girl went on, "rumors abound, and there are those who swear
that strange apparitions have been sighted on the castle grounds, especially
at these times in the dead of winter."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">The three girls gazed at the massive fortress which was now less than
two hundred feet away, so close to the island's shore they had glided. It
was still reflecting a fiery glow from the sunset. Then, suddenly, as the
sun swiftly sank below the far hills, the red glow vanished in an instant
to be replaced by the brilliant white of the ice-like stone.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Then; "My gosh! Look!" Jean cried, pointing at the tower on the castle's
north side.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Louise and Evelyn's eyes flew to the window atop the tower beneath
the battlements of the roof. A flickering light could be seen within the
leaded window, like a sputtering candle caught in a draft.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"It's a light," Louise gasped. "Someone is in the tower!"<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Evelyn glided slowly backward on the ice, fear in her eyes. "It might
be the ghost," she cried. "Oh, let's get away from here!"<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"Nonsense," Louise said. "There are no such things as ghosts. Someone
is in the tower and they have lighted a lamp or a candle. Let's go knock
on the front door. Surely whoever is in there will answer our call."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"But it's too late," Evelyn argued, wanting to get far away as quickly
as possible. "The sun has set and we must return to Starhurst in time for
dinner."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"I agree with Louise." Jean overruled. "Perhaps the Symingtons rent
out the castle these days. A winter vacationist might be here. Or" she mused
in a lower tone, "maybe something sinister is going on."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Evelyn gave her a wry glance. "I doubt very much if the family would
permit anyone to use the castle, and the legends would surely scare off almost
everyone from desiring it. That light is bound to be connected to something
very mysterious, and you Dana girls just cannot resist a mystery!"<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"Then we shall knock on the door," Louise declared, "and if someone
answers we shall act like we are just passing by on our way back to Starhurst
and making a neighborly call. Come, let's go."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">She and Jean began to skate closer to the island, but the Starr girl
held back.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"You two go. I'll wait here."<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Jean was just about to urge Evelyn to join them when a sudden harsh
voice shattered the wintry stillness of Indian Lake.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">"Halt! Do not come any closer or I shall shoot!"<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Startled, the three Starhurst girls gaped ahead. Around the side of
the north tower of the Ice Castle came a ghastly-looking figure, an aged
crone with streaming black hair. She was dressed in a coat of dark fur pelts
that reached down to her heavily booted feet, and her beady black eyes glared
angrily at the girls.<br /><br /></span></b>
</div>
<div align="Left">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">In her arms she held a rifle and its steel muzzle was aimed directly
at them!<br /><br /><br /><span style="color: red;"><i>Read the entire story at the website listed above!</i></span></span></b><br />
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stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-15278051723114705092013-08-05T07:46:00.002-07:002013-08-05T18:59:03.653-07:00RICK BRANT GOLDEN DRAGON 13<br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">All chapters through chapter 13 are now available on this alternate site:</span><a href="https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction/dragon"><span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN DRAGON https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction/dragon</span></a></span></div>
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<b style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN DRAGON<br />or <i style="color: black;">The South Seas City of Death Mystery</i><br /><br />Chapter Thirteen: CANNIBALS AND HEADHUNTERS!</span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"<i>Death?"</i><br /><br />Scotty stood there on the rocks in astonishment. Appalled, his voice hardened with sudden anger. "For taking a swim and shower? Are these guys nuts or what? They gotta be kidding!"<br /><br />"Cool it," Rick hissed at him in warning tones. "These men are primitive warriors. Like from back in the Stone Age!"<br /><br />Jimmy nodded, almost imperceptibly. "And headhunters too," he grunted. "Look at those skulls and shrunken heads they're carrying!"<br /><br />The men stood there in their outlandish tribal regalia, looking as tough and mean as a pack of nightmare ghouls. But Scotty, unconvinced of the seriousness of the predicament, rolled his eyes at Rick and Jimmy and let out an exasperated sigh. For him, it just didn't jive.<br /><br />"Aw, come on, fellas," he sighed. "This is the middle of the twentieth century!"<br /><br />"Right," Jimmy gritted, impatiently. "But this is also the middle of the New Guinea jungle!"<br /><br />"Scotty, don't you remember the natives on Kwangara Island?" Rick asked, keeping a wary eye on the warriors as they began to move in closer. "They were just as primitive as these guys. And not friendly at all!"<br /><br />Scotty scowled, stepping back as the natives got closer. "That was a really remote island, far away from anywhere, and there wasn't a modern city like Rabaul fifty miles away!"<br /><br />"Calm down, bud," Jimmy warned him in a hissing whisper. "Don't be belligerent and give them a hard time. It'll just make things worse. My grandfather was a tribesman - the king! He probably was a headhunter, too. This is New Guinea! A lot of it still primitive, far back in time...."<br /><br />His words choked off as the men moved in around them, three of the warriors surrounding each of the boys. With stark commands, two of the Wambutu grabbed each boy by the arms and began to coax and pull them off the rocks toward the jungle. The boys couldn't help but resist at first, fighting back only natural, and it only angered the native men who shouted and cried out in war whoops and prodded the boys with rifle butts and spears. The two men holding Rick were so strong that their grips were hurting him, and he watched in trepidation as Scotty struggled against the efforts of the warriors who were holding him. Rick nerved himself not to fight the two muscling him along. They were big and strong and he knew it would be futile to continue to resist them. </span></b><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br />The native men stunk of sweat and filth, and the oily paint that covered their faces and hair was strong and pungent. Their bizarre collection of primitive and modern weapons, and the smoking skulls and shrunken heads they carried finished off the wild man picture they fit so well and added to the frightening nature of the experience. Rick kept trying to tell himself that this was just some kind of mistake, a joke of sorts because the men were mad at them, but it was, in truth, so sinister that he couldn't get himself to actually believe it.<br /><br />Scotty's anger subsided somewhat by the time they were being herded through the swamp and led down a path through the jungle growth that skirted the ponds. The native men chattered amongst themselves in passionate dramatic talk, as if they had just done something eventful, heroic, something far more earth-shattering than just accosting three boys who'd been swimming in a pond.<br /><br />"Well, so much for the Garden of Eden," Rick gibed with angry sarcasm, letting out a long sustained breath. He forced a grin. "I doubt Adam and Eve had to worry about<i> this</i>!"<br /><br />Scotty harrumphed. "No, just that stupid Serpent. Can't we just buy these guys off? Give them money?"<br /><br />Jimmy forced a chuckle. "They don't use money. They are primitive natives. There's nothing for them to buy!"<br /><br />"What about the guns?" Scotty asked. "They had to buy them from somebody."<br /><br />Jimmy shrugged. "They trade for stuff, probably guns and ammo. Maybe a few other things."<br /><br />Rick groaned. "Oh darn! Speaking of money, we left our wallets in the jeep. Man, I hope we can get them back. And all our stuff, too. The weapons, the ...."<br /><br />"Don't talk about it," Jimmy interrupted, tossing him a warning look. "Some of these guys know a little English. The less they know about us, the better. When we get away from them, all the stuff will be waiting there for us. It should be! Hardly anybody drives by this way."<br /><br />Rick clamped his mouth shut, hoping Jimmy was right. But Scotty was now getting back into his usual antsy humor and he couldn't keep quiet. "Get away? Ha! How we gonna do that? These guys probably want to put us in a pot and cook us for dinner!"<br /><br />Scotty had meant it in jest, but he and Rick couldn't help notice the wide-eyed look of horror Jimmy flung at them.<br /><br />"<i>What?</i> Are you kidding me?" Scotty glared at Jimmy in response, trying to fathom his meaning. He began to struggle with his captors again. "You mean these guys are ...?"<br /><br />"Don't even say it, Scotty," Rick warned him.<br /><br />" ....<i>cannibals</i>?" Scotty said it anyway, getting cuffed on the shoulder by the warrior on his left.<br /><br />Jimmy growled in frustration as he was shoved on by strong muscular arms. "Possibly, Mr. Scott! It <i>is </i>possible." He shot Scotty an especially exasperated look, struggling as he was with his desire to act like he wasn't afraid. "And if they are, buster, they'll sure have a feast on all that American boy beef of yours, won't they?"<br /><br />Scotty grunted, at last realizing just how serious the situation could be. So he did what he usually did in a tight spot, he forced a laugh. "You bet, Mr. <i>Tomato! </i>Pure Grade A American beef, both me<i> and</i></span></b><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> Rick. What a treat for these Wambutu monkeys, huh? You can provide the dark meat."<br /><br />Jimmy's blue eyes looked like they could shoot darts. "It all tastes the same, buster. Skin color doesn't matter."<br /><br />"Says who?" Scotty demanded, shuddering at the thought.<br /><br />Now it was Jimmy's turn to laugh. "The old people. Information gets handed down through the generations, you know."<br /><br />All Scotty could do was scowl back at him, horrified that this boy's ancestors had known what human flesh tastes like.<br /><br />Rick shook his head, dismayed, but he couldn't help chuckling to himself as he was horsed along the trail. From panic and fear to ridiculous humor in seconds, and back again! Well, what better way to deal with what was happening? Laughter and bravado in the face of danger wasn't anything new to Scotty and him. It was all so frightening it didn't seem real, and who knew what was yet to come? He couldn't help but think of his mother at home on Spindrift Island, how horrified she'd be to know what was happening to them right now. The thought pained him mercilessly, and got his teeth gritting and his heart began to bang with anxiety. Like Scotty and Jimmy, he had to fight it with humor. The heck with these headhunter guys!<br /><br />"If they do cook us, Scotty," Rick tossed out, "what do you think Mom will have to say about it?"<br /><br />"Ho!" Scotty burst out in a devil-may-care tone. "These Wambutu guys don't want to mess with Mom Brant! If they don't spice us up the best they can and make one darn heck of a meal out of us, she'll really let them have it!"<br /><br />The three boys' nervous energy burst its holds and they guffawed into gales of laughter, angering the warriors who shook them and yelled at them in their chop-chop syllables, trying to bully them into silence. The leader, the man who had shaken his spear at them earlier, did so again from the head of the line and shouted:<br /><br />"Yu savvy me! No talktalk! Dis fellas no laikim, shut-up!"<br /><br />"Puh! Even I understand that," Scotty muttered with a derisive grin, and the men holding him immediately began to knock him about and cuff his shoulders.<br /><br />"Jeez! Okay! Okay!" he grunted, rolling his eyes in mock dismay. "Man, can't we even have a little fun while being led to the slaughter!"<br /><br />The boys began to hear the sound of drums as soon as the roar and splash of the waterfalls fell behind them. A few minutes later, as they approached the tribesmen's village, the monotonous beating grew louder. They exchanged glances warily, and quieted down, even Scotty. They managed not to say much of anything for the next hundred yards or so lest they continue to aggravate the native men.</span></b><br />
<div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick looked ahead stoically, wondering what was in store for them. The jungle canopy was high above, the ancient trees rising up to dizzying heights and almost blocking out the blazing equatorial sun. Vines and creepers hung in profusion and the big-leafed mangrove branches arced closer down overhead along the swamp edges. The heat was intense; already the cooling comfort of the waterfall pool was forgotten.<br /><br />He knew they were in malarial jungle swamps infested with deadly insects and other dangers; not the least of their worries, man-eating crocodiles. Escaping from this captivity was a must, but he knew it would be difficult and best if they could do it at night, in the dark. And that was a really big order, if it'd even be possible at all. And then getting back to the jeep in this dangerous terrain would be treacherous in the dark night jungle.<br /><br />He scowled at the thought of it. He was so unnerved that he couldn't shake off his anger at this unexpected and seemingly impossible delay. They had been well on their way to Storms End. In a day or two they'd have surely been headed out to Palua Pae on a boat. They had been so close to the completion of their quest, only to be waylaid now because of the angry and aggressive Wambutu!<br /><br />Yet Rick was still firm in his conviction when they soon came upon the village and the clearing could be seen ahead through the interlacing fronds and branches. They must escape! There was no alternative! They must continue on their journey to find the golden dragon that guards the treasure of the City of Death and the cavern of light below it. Where, hopefully, they would find his dad and the other two missing scientists. His lips drew together in a grim hard line. There was no room for failure in his plans!<br /><br />He heard Scotty chuckle. "Hey, Junior Scientist, you're thinking too hard. It's all over your face. I can see the wheels turning in your brain!"<br /><br />"Just doping things out," Rick returned, harshness in his voice. "Keep your eyes and ears open, boys. This is a situation we just gotta get out of, and as soon as we can!"<br /><br />"Right," Jimmy agreed. "Not my idea of a cozy situation!"<br /><br />Scotty grunted. "Tell me about it! Just a real quick hello and then a smash-up bangin' <i>goodbye!</i>"<br /><br />Burly arms and spears parted the vines and fronds and the boys stumbled into the clearing muscled along by the warriors. The area was vast and filled with thatched huts of several different sizes and shapes, all elevated on stilts. Surrounding them along the perimeter was a multitude of totems sticking up from the ground and painted bright colors. They all had several faces piled on top of each other, grisly looking animal faces with the top ones being long-snouted crocodiles.<br /><br />A big white cockatoo was sitting on top of one they passed by, fluffing its feathers. One of the warriors swatted at it with a hissing grunt and the bird screeched in fright and rose up into the air with a great squawking and beating of wings.<br /><br />"The crocodile is king of the gods," Jimmy told them. "His spirit demands constant reverence and adoration."<br /><br />"I guess that bird was not welcome to perch there, huh?" Scotty asked.<br /><br />"No way. You can't sit on the crocodile spirit's head. You gotta keep him happy or he will retaliate by sending one of his own to eat you!"<br /><br />Rick shuddered at the thought. They began to hear voices raised in frenetic song accompanying the throbbing rhythm of the drums. Ahead were visible a couple hundred or more natives dancing about in a frenzy. As one, when the people saw the warriors hastening the boys into the village, they surged ahead and rushed toward them like a swarm of ants. Shouts and cries chorused into a tumult as the crowd surrounded the men and the boys.<br /><br /></b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><b> Rick cringed at the site of them - men, women, and young people his age all worked up into a state of mania. They grinned and laughed and snarled and snapped at the boys, reaching out to them with arms covered with tribal tattoos and markings and laden with clanging shells and bracelets. The women wore woven grass skirts and skimpy tops, and the men wore breech cloths or ratty shorts like the warriors. Faces were painted into hideous masks and mops of hair colored in the strange bright hues, and the ubiquitous large bird feathers adorned them all. <br /><br />"Why are they so riled up?" Scotty wanted to know, as the throng surged along with them toward the center of the village.<br /><br />"Look, that hut in the middle!" Jimmy had to shout at them to be heard above the racket. He pointed ahead. "Those heads and carcasses there. The witch doctor has already been making magic for payback!"<br /><br />Rick and Scotty struggled with their captors to see ahead. In the center of the village was a large hut, higher-stilted than the others. In front of it were a dozen or so of the crocodile totems, each one with the head of a pig stuck on it, the eyes wide and staring, tongues lolling. Hanging from rafters under the hut were the animals' carcasses, and there were small fires nearby awaiting to roast them.<br /><br />"It's the payback ritual," Jimmy struggled to tell them. "The animal sacrifice, the drums. The people chew betel nut and drink kava to get zonked out, and then they dance and sing-sing and work themselves up into a ...."<br /><br />His words were cut off by a whack from one of his warrior captors.<br /><br />"Yu no talk-talk!" the native spat out at him. He motioned to the other warriors. "Dis fellas no laikim!"<br /><br />Jimmy snarled at the man, wanting to strangle him. But he could do nothing, of course, helpless in the strong grip of the warriors.<br /><br />Rick's lips were set sternly and he stared hard ahead as they were roughly escorted to the village center. The babel of the crowd was rising to the point of hysteria. The warriors stopped in front of the large center hut and the men holding the boys pulled them ahead of the crowd close up to the totems bearing the pig heads.<br /><br />Rick could feel his blood stirring and his heart banging away to the throbbing of the drums, which now grew to even more maniacal cadence as did the chanting and shouting of the crazed natives. The boys could only look at each other in consternation, not knowing what in the world was going on. But a moment later they understood the reason for the heightened frenzy.<br /><br />A figure emerged from the hut and the tumult rose yet another notch. Tall and very old, but still muscular and lithe, the man who stepped forward was attired even more hideously than the warriors. He wore a breech cloth of purple leaves and his body was almost completely covered with intricate tattoos and tribal markings. His face was painted as a white skull with a huge mouth filled with big square teeth. His bush of hair was a jarring rainbow of colors and his earlobes, stretched and distended down to his shoulders, were laden with decorative cuffs and piercings. Bird claws stuck out of his nostrils and facial piercings on his eyebrows and lips glittered with supernatural-looking trinkets. He was the ugliest man Rick had ever seen and he stared at the boys with an evil grin as the warrior leader spoke to him, shaking his spear triumphantly.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"That's the witch doctor, the humbug man," Jimmy grunted out to them above the din. "The warrior is telling him how they found us at the waterfalls."</b></span><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">A moment later the witch doctor burst out into a tirade of screeches and cries and climbed down from the hut, waving his arms wildly and gesticulating like a madman as he advanced upon the boys. The crowd and the drums roared on along with him and he stopped to gaze curiously at Rick and Scotty, then lumbered over to Jimmy. He shook his fist at the boy and his armful of bracelets jangled loudly even in the uproar as he let out a volley of angry words.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Jimmy's light brown face actually looked to be flaming red with anger. His hands were clenched fiercely at his sides as he faced the witch doctor without even a flinch. When the old man finally stopped shouting at him, Jimmy turned to Rick and Scotty.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"He said I should have known better because I am one of them. I should not have let you bathe in the sacred pool. They are sacrificing the pigs for payback because of the gold prospectors digging up their lands, for they believe all this jungle belongs to them." He grimaced and looked back at the witch doctor a moment and Rick thought he might jump the man. But then he turned back and said, "Now they will sacrifice us, too, and I will be the last to die so that I can suffer the more by watching you two being killed!"</span></b></div>
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</b><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty simply grunted and his jaw molded into a hard line. Rick, fretted by the horror of it all, experienced a jolting sense of shock. He was appalled. How could this be happening? Would this really be the end for them, slaughtered here and eaten by these people, same as the pigs, as a sacrifice to their mythical gods, never to be seen or heard from again? </span></b><b><span style="font-size: medium;">But, no! It couldn't be! It just couldn't, Rick thought with quaking resolve.</span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"><b> He spoke out in anger.</b> <b>"Can't you talk to him, Jimmy? Reason with him? Can't you ..... "</b></span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />But there was no use continuing. His words tore off as he and Jimmy and Scotty were hustled up to the hut past the staring-eyed pig heads to the ladder leading up into it. The crowd of natives had surged back and broken into wild dance formations as the boys were prodded up the ladder by the warriors' spears. They were forced inside and two of the Wambutu came in to guard them.<br /><br /></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">The interior of the hut was dark and smokey and the boys moved into its center by the prodding of the guards. Pallets of woven fronds on the floor offered some comfort, and the boys sat down on them as the guards stationed themselves on either side of the doorway. On the wall across from the entrance was a small window overlooking the center of the village behind the hut. Below this was an altar on which two bowls of a charred scented substance burned in obvious veneration of other items on the altar, among them a shrunken human head, a bloody pig's head, and several hand wrought wooden items that appeared to be talismans of magic.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Jimmy jerked his head in that direction. "Hooka pooka," he explained. "Hocus pocus, magic, whatever you want to call it. They've obviously been at it for some time today. They get all riled up and crazy over it. Finding us was a stroke of good luck for them. They can add us to their sacrifice list!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"They'll actually kill us?" Scotty wanted to know, still not fully believing.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Jimmy nodded gravely. "Yes!" He faced them with outthrust jaw and steel in his voice. "They firmly believe they must offer sacrifice for payback. The gods must be appeased for all transgressions, like the gold hunting and our swimming in the sacred pool. Something similar happened to an American recently, the son of a politician. He was working here with missionaries and disappeared. Signs of him were later found in a remote mountain village on the mainland. It appeared he had been sacrificed and eaten."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick nodded slowly. "I remember reading about that. It was a governor's son. New York, I think."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty pressed clenched fists against the floor pallet and tossed back his head. "Then why do they act like headhunting and cannibalism don't exist anymore, especially someplace like this, so close to Rabaul?"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Jimmy shrugged. "Commerce, tourism probably. They don't want people to be afraid to come here. And the missionaries want the world to believe they have been successful in completely converting the people."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick snorted. "So what you really have are Christian natives who still chop off human heads and eat the bodies because they still actually worship the old gods too?"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"Right. Some of them," Jimmy reluctantly agreed. "And lucky us, we ran smack dab into them!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"When will they do this?" Rick asked, cocking an ear to better here the tumult outside.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Jimmy let out a sigh and shook his head, as if to shake the problem away. "Later in the day. most probably. Right before it gets dark. They'll have a sing-sing all day and work themselves into a tizzy. Then they'll come and get us."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty twisted into a position to lean on his elbow. His lips formed a slight grin. "Will they cook us in a pot?" he asked, after a moment, "or will they roast us in a pit?"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"Morbid interest, huh?" Jimmy grinned back. "Neither. First they bop you on the head to kill you. That part's easy. Then they lay the bodies out in a bed dug in the ground. Probably out back there in that fenced-off area. Looked like some kind of thatching out there, perhaps the covering for their roasting beds."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick pushed himself to his feet to take a look out the back. He stretched idly, as if to loosen stiff muscles, so that he wouldn't alarm the two guards who had stiffened their stances at his movement. Outside the small window above the altar he could see the large squared off area surrounded by a bamboo-like fence. The center of the area was covered with large thatched pallets that could be moved aside by way of their long poles. The sight of it made him shudder. Was this where the natives had their beds for cooking humans?<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">He sat down with a thump. "So you're already dead when they cook you?" he asked Jimmy.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">The boy nodded. "Yes."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty laughed. "Thoughtful of them, ain't it? These bozos better feed us first! Man, I'd sure hate to die on an empty stomach!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"If you do, Mr. Scott," Rick tossed back, "it'll be the only time since I've known you that your stomach will have actually been empty!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Jimmy looked from one to the other with widened eyes. "You two guys are nuts. Only Americans would laugh in the face of being cooked and eaten by South Seas cannibals!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick's voice hardened as he spoke. "That's because it's just not going to happen, Jimmy. There's got to be a way out of this. I don't believe for a second that this is the end for us."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Sweat glistened on Jimmy's forehead and he wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "But what can we do? We have no aces up our sleeves. Nobody knows we're here. We have no friends in the area, even if somebody did. We're all alone in this!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"So it seems," Rick told him. "But I can't give up hope. Maybe that's what makes us different. We've been in tight spots like this before and got out of them."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty nodded with an emphatic grunt. "And right at the psychological moment, too. Somehow good fortune has always trailed after us."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Jimmy looked at them in wonder. "I'm beginning to believe it! Like with that gunshot on the <i>Mirandu</i> last night, and how we escaped from the tong pirates. I sure hope your luck doesn't desert us now!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty rolled over onto his stomach and his voice slapped out, "The only luck we need right now is some food! Maybe they can barbecue us some of that pork we saw hanging outside." He grinned at Jimmy and Rick and winked, letting them know he wasn't afraid. "It's time to fatten the sacrificial lambs. Well, actually, in this case </span><i><span style="font-size: medium;">boys</span></i><span style="font-size: medium;">. I bet that old crocodile god doesn't like his sacrifices dying on an empty stomach!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty got his wish fulfilled about an hour later. Despite the intense heat and humidity in the hut and the wild ruckus outside of it, the three of them had fallen into uneasy slumbers stretched out on the mats.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">The witch doctor climbed in and aroused the boys by dancing wildly around the hut and wailing in a dramatic sing-song manner. The old man bowed at the altar, moaning as if in a trance, and picked up one of the small vessels placed there. From this he took handfuls of tiny seeds as he continued to prance around, and tossed them at the boys as he circled them with the exaggerated dance movements.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"Nigoochee! Nigoochee! Nigoochee!" he cried out in low guttural grunts and then high screeches. "Nigoochee no laikim dis fellas! No! No! No!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty was watching him warily. "Who the heck is Nigoochee?"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"The crocodile god," Jimmy hissed.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty snorted. "Well I don't like <i>him</i>, either!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick sent him a warning glance. "Cool it! He's making magic. This guy's a nutcase, but he wholly believes in what he's doing. No telling what he might do if we anger him."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">After invoking the god Nigoochee and tossing the seeds all around the boys, the witch doctor stepped back to the altar as several pretty young native girls climbed into the hut bearing trays laden with food and drink.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"Now this is more to my liking," Scotty said, sitting up in an attentive position.<br /> <br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Jimmy and Rick, too, sat up with smiles at the sight of the girls in their grass skirts and multi-colored bouncy hairdos.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"Here's that food you've been wanting," Rick said to Scotty with a grin.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"And pretty girls, too!" the Scott boy added. "Just what a fellow needs before he gets roasted!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"Hey!" Rick gaped at him with feigned concern. "Behave yourself. I'll tell Barby on you when we get home!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty blinked and gulped guiltily as Jimmy asked, "Who is Barby?"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"My sister," was Rick's reply. "She's a pretty blonde a year younger than me, and she's got her eyes set on Scotty."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Jimmy let out a chuckle. "Right, Scotty. You'd better keep your mind on Barby Brant. These wild Wambutu girls would probably be a bit too much for you!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">But the tribal girls were friendly and sweet and full of smiles for the boys. They treated them as if the were special guests instead of intended sacrificial victims. They presented them with the food and drink and served them politely, talking to the boys in lilting sing-song voices in pidgin, most of which Rick and Scotty could understand. Jimmy talked to them in their own language and they gave deferential treatment to him, obviously fascinated with him because of his lighter-skinned Oriental version of their own tribal looks.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">They were fed roasted pork with yams and coconut meats, coconut milk to drink and fruit juices. Rick and Scotty were surprised at how tasty the food was for such primitive fare. They ate their fill as the Wambutu girls hovered about and the witch doctor sat on the floor cross-legged by the altar, watching them with a stoney expression. When they were done, the girls whisked up the bowls and cups and bore them away on the trays, casting the boys beaming smiles as they left the hut.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty harrumphed. "By the way they act, you'd think we were going to meet them again later for some cokes and dancing."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick couldn't help laughing. "I think they're just happy because three young healthy fellows like ourselves ought to really satisfy old Nigoochee."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Jimmy looked warily at the witch doctor who was now rising to his feet. "You shouldn't speak that name," he warned. "We offended the god by bathing in the pool. so it's like blasphemy to talk about him now. At least this old humbug man will think so."<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"Hah!" Scotty leaned back, a contented smile on his face now that he had eaten. <br />"The real offenders here are the Wambutu themselves, not us, because they <i>never</i> bathe, ever, according to the smell of them!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">The witch doctor began walking around them again, slowly, muttering his mumbo jumbo, making faces at them, and waving his arms and hands along with his incantations. The ruckus outside continued on, the beat of the drums so loud now that it seemed it would burst their eardrums.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty growled, "We should've taken our guns along with us to the waterfalls instead of leaving them in the jeep!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick nodded, eying the witch doctor with growing impatience. "Tell me about it! If we had them now, I'd sure give this loony-toon arrangement here a nice bullet in his left big toe!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"They would have taken the guns away from us at the waterfalls," Jimmy reminded them, lowering his voice almost to a whisper as the witch doctor now started shaking a rattling device at them.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">It was a small hollowed-out coconut painted like a death mask and filled with seeds or stone that clattered as he shook it about in rhythm with the drums outside.</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"That's the death rattle," Jimmy hissed. "The time is approaching!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">The boys all looked at each other with searching, questioning eyes. What was going to happen now? Would they just be bopped on the heads and that would be it? They'd be cooked and eaten by these savage natives and no one would ever know what had happened to them? Or would sudden and unexpected good fortune somehow come their way and save them from this horrific predicament? <br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick didn't know what could possibly happen to help them now. It seemed to be too late for miracles, far far too late. There was no way they could possibly escape from all these people. He wondered what the next move would be. A moment later, he found out.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">The cries and beat of the drums reached a maniacal crescendo and a commotion could be heard outside the window in the village center. Rick looked to see what was going on but the witch doctor now stood in front of the altar blocking the view. The ugly humbug man pointed to the doorway as he shook the death rattle with his other hand.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"Go!" he commanded hoarsely, his feathers vibrating as his body shook. "Yu go now meetum Nigoochee!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">The boys rose slowly as the two guards came at them with spears ready to prod them if they did not follow orders. Scotty led the way grumbling, "I'd like to Nigoochee him! Right in one ear and out the other!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Jimmy snorted and rolled his eyes. His lips pressed tightly together to suppress a laugh.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"Scotty .... shut up!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"Right," Rick hissed. "If you make us laugh, they may cook us <i>alive!</i> Yughhh! I'm just not in the mood for that!"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty stepped aside to let Rick lead. "Brains before brawn, chum." Then he looked at Rick with a pleading expression. "Man, <i>think of something!</i>"<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick cringed with helplessness and looked away. "We'll just have to make a run for it," he muttered. "Just keep alert for the right moment." <br /><br /><br />He looked out the doorway at a sea of black faces, many of them painted in the hideous death mask images, their owners singing and shouting and dancing to the drumbeats and looking at him with greedy gleaming eyes. He let out an uneasy breath and shrugged his shoulders. Think of something? No way. His mind was a complete blank. Was there any way in heaven or hell to escape this huge crazed mob who wanted to kill them?<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"Here goes," he said to himself, and climbed down the ladder to the flank of warrior guards awaiting. Three of the men immediately surrounded him as Jimmy and Scotty followed.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick twisted his neck to look under the hut to the village center behind it and his eyes bugged wide in horror. A stabbing pain smacked his heart almost as if a knife had been thrust into it and sliced it in half. He felt a lump form in his throat and almost choked in fright. What lay there now in the very center of the village was far worse than he ever would have imagined! The grassy pallets had been removed. But there were no cooking beds in which to roast humans. No, that would have been almost a pleasure, he thought, compared to what he saw there now.<br /><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;">There was a deep pit about thirty feet across, its bottom filled with water and rocks and vegetation, and it was crawling with a half dozen or so angry snarling crocodiles! </span></b><u><i><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></u></div>
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stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-45090028440195337842013-02-01T23:24:00.000-08:002013-02-05T11:52:08.917-08:00RICK BRANT RED DEATH<table cellspacing="0" class="sites-layout-hbox" id="sites-chrome-header"><tbody>
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<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">THE SIGN OF THE RED DEATH</span></span><br />
<span style="color: blue;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"><b>A Rick Brant fanfiction mystery</b></span></i></span></form>
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<b>New Chapters Being Added Now</b>!<br />
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<b><b><b><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">all current chapters available at this alternate site:<br /><a href="https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction">https:/<span style="font-size: large;">/</span>sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction </a></span></b></span></b></b></b><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: white;">rick brant rick brant rick brant rick brant rick brant rick brant</span><br /><br />A RICK BRANT MYSTERY ADVENTURE</i></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">THE SIGN OF THE RED DEATH</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>This is a Rick Brant adventure based on the characters of the original Rick Brant series written by Peter Harkins and Hal Goodwin and published by Grosse<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;">t &</span></span>Dunlap. This story is meant to fit in between the books THE LOST CITY and SEA GOLD, as if it had been written in the late 1940s.<br /><br /></i><span style="color: blue;"><i> In this full-length thrilling novel, Rick and Scotty travel up to Hudson Bay as guests of the Canadian Wildlife Service to test Rick's new tracking collar system on the famed Hudson Bay area<br />polar bears. Strange events begin to plague the boys even before they leave New Jersey, and once in Canada they are shadowed at every turn by the mysterious La Mort Rouge, the inexplicable 'Red Death', resulting in an outcome so unexpected, so beyond the scope of their imaginations, that the boys must summon every last ounce of their courage and resolve to master it.<br />This adventure takes place during the Christmas holidays in the ferocious subzero weather of the Far North.<br /><br /></i></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: blue;"><i><span style="color: #990000;">Final chapters coming ....<br /></span><br />Online now:</i></span><span style="color: blue;"><i><span style="color: #a64d79;"><br />Chapter One: THE WHITE CLAWS</span><br style="color: #a64d79;" /><span style="color: #a64d79;">Chapter Two: HIGHWAY ROBBERY</span><br style="color: #a64d79;" /><span style="color: #a64d79;">Chapter Three: THE BIG SNOW</span><br style="color: #a64d79;" /><span style="color: #a64d79;">Chapter Four: THE RED DEATH</span><br style="color: #a64d79;" /><span style="color: #a64d79;">Chapter Five: THE VOYAGE OF NO RETURN</span><br style="color: #a64d79;" /><span style="color: #a64d79;">Chapter Six: THE LAND OF THE WHITE BEAR</span><br style="color: #a64d79;" /><span style="color: #a64d79;">Chapter Seven: THE TOWER ON THE TUNDRA<br />Chapter Eight: INTO THE DARKNESS<br />Chapter Nine: WANDERERS OF THE WILDERNESS<br />Chapter Ten: ICE FOG AND SUN-DOGS<br />Chapter Eleven: SEARCHERS IN THE SKY<br />Chapter Twelve: THE CAGE OF THE DEVIL BEAR<br />Chapter Thirteen: THE STORY IN THE OLD JOURNAL - <span style="color: blue;">in process now!</span><br />Chapter Fourteen: SECRETS OF THE RED DEATH - <span style="color: blue;">coming!</span><br />Chapter Fifteen: THE CALL OF THE WILD - <span style="color: blue;">coming!<br /></span></span></i></span></b></span></div>
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stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-41980769146957126922013-02-01T22:38:00.003-08:002013-09-09T18:23:31.675-07:00RICK BRANT RED DEATH 3<b><b><b><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">all current chapters available at this alternate site:<br /><a href="https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction">https:/<span style="font-size: large;">/</span>sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction </a></span></b></span></b></b></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">THE SIGN OF THE RED DEATH</span></b></span><b><i style="color: blue;"><br />a Rick Brant fanfiction adventure</i><br />Chapter Three: THE BIG SNOW<br /></b></span><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">
Rick Brant gazed out the window of the passenger plane at a world of
whiteness. The seemingly endless forests of northern Minnesota were
laden with snow and rolled on as far as the eye could see under a clear
blue winter sky. Far ahead toward the north, however, that same sky was
darkening threateningly, and Rick knew they were flying toward a severe
winter storm that was battering central Manitoba.<br /><br />He turned to
Scotty, who was sitting next to him. "You can already see that blizzard
up north. I hope we're able to land in Winnipeg before the storm hits
the city."<br /><br />The stewardess on the Canadian airliner had advised them earlier of the possibility of turbulent weather ahead.<br /><br />Scotty
shifted in his seat to peer out the window. "You can say that again.
Otherwise we'll have to fly back to Minneapolis-St. Paul and wait it out
there. That would really mess up our plans."<br /><br />Rick nodded. "And
even if we do land in Winnipeg, we probably won't be able to take the
connecting flight up to The Pas. We may be stranded in the city."<br /><br />Scotty grinned. "In <i>The Peg</i>,"
he laughed, reiterating the city's nickname they had learned from the
stewardess. He tapped the page of the travel guide he was reading.
"Winnipeg is a bona-fide big city and cultural center, plopped right in
the middle of the Canadian prairies and filled with people of all
nationalities from all over the world. And there's a huge French quarter
across the Red River in St. Boniface, peopled largely by the <i>Metis</i>, descendants of the early French <i>voyageurs</i><br /><br />"We
may get to see more of it than we planned," Rick said, as he watched
the darkening northern skies. "Depending, of course, on how big this Big
Snow really is."<br /><br />They had also learned from the stewardess that
blizzards were called Big Snows in Manitoba, and that sometimes they
could last for days. The boys were fervently hoping that the storm would
not impede their progress north and delay their arrival at Churchill on
the Hudson Bay coast.<br /><br />Early that morning, after a bouncy boat
ride on the wind-whipped Atlantic from Spindrift Island to Whiteside
Landing, Rick's dad and Hobart Zircon had driven them to Newark Airport.
Arrangements were made to service the Piper Cub and store it in a
hangar until the boys' return. They had arrived home late from the
police headquarters in Newark the night before and hadn't got much
sleep, up late finalizing preparations. Then, saying goodbye to Mrs.
Brant, Barby, Dismal the dog, and the other scientists had not been
easy. They hated to miss even a few days of the holiday season at home!<br /><br />With
their luggage and the tracking system equipment safely in the passenger
plane's cargo hold, they had flown from Newark to Chicago without
mishap, catching a snooze here and there and often squirming in their
seats because of the bruises they had sustained the day before. In
Chicago they had transferred to the Canadian plane which was now taking
them to Winnipeg. From there, the plan was to transfer to a small plane
manned by a bush pilot from the Manitoba Department of Natural Resources
and fly north to The Pas, a small mining and lumber town in central
Manitoba and gateway to the vast Hudson Bay north country. They would
spend the night there and fly on to Churchill in the morning.<br /><br />That is, if the Big Snow didn't ground them in Winnipeg or Minneapolis-St. Paul!<br /><br />Scotty
read aloud from the travel guide. "'St. Boniface is the largest French
settlement in North America outside of the province of Quebec.' Some of
the sites to see are the big St. Boniface Cathedral and the Louis Riel
grave and home. He was the half-breed <i>Metis</i> leader who became 'The Father of Manitoba'."<br /><br />"We'll
have to check them out if we get stranded," Rick said. "But I sure
dread the idea of being stuck in town riding out a blizzard."<br /><br />It
was a short while later when the boys and other passengers were informed
that the plane had crossed the border into Canada and was now flying
over southern Manitoba. A light snack was served, and Rick and Scotty
had sandwiches and cokes. They had eaten a quick early lunch in Chicago
during the turnover there.<br /><br />"What's the weather situation in Winnipeg?" Rick asked the amiable young stewardess.<br /><br />"The
storm is quickly approaching the city," she answered in low tones. "So
far it looks like we'll be able to land. However, if you have a
connecting flight, forget it. All departures have been canceled."<br /><br />Scotty
gave a grim smile. "Just our luck. We're supposed to go further north. A
pilot was flying down to pick us up from The Pas."<br /><br />The girl in
the crisp stylish uniform smiled. "You'll have to get used to Canada's
bilingual nature. That's a French name, pronounced <i>'the paw</i>', not
'the pass'." Then she shook her head. "And that pilot surely won't be
able to fly down to Winnipeg from the north country. The Big Snow has
been battering that part of the province for two days now. You'll have
to remain in town until it's all over, or perhaps you can get a train
north. That is, if the tracks are clear," she added, as she turned her
attention to a fellow passenger.<br /><br />Rick grumbled ominously. "I guess even the trains get bogged down in these parts."<br /><br />Scotty
pointed to a paragraph in the travel guide. "Severe blizzards can dump
six to ten feet of snow on the Manitoba interior. We may be stranded
here until New Years."<br /><br />Rick punched Scotty's arm. "No way. Come
hell or high water - or even ten feet of snow - nothing is going to stop
us from getting back home to Spindrift Island for Christmas!"<br /><br />But
it was soon apparent that the airliner was meeting up with the bad
weather, and the gray gloom that surrounded the plane as it descended to
lower altitudes for its approach to the city sobered the boys
considerably. Blusterous winds buffeted the craft and at times air
pockets caused it to bounce along like a pebble skipping over water.
Both Rick and Scotty were experienced fliers, in big planes and small,
but they nevertheless fastened their seat belts along with the other
passengers.<br /><br />The stewardess quickly cleared away the snack trays
and plates, then fastened herself into a seat at the front of the
rocking cabin.<br /><br />"Try to remain calm," she advised the others over
her shoulder. "This is just turbulence we are experiencing as we come
down from the higher altitudes. Landing has been cleared for us and all
should go smoothly, although it certainly won't feel like it! We'll be
in Winnipeg in about twenty minutes."<br /><br />Scotty held onto the arms of his seat. "This is like riding out a typhoon in the Pacific!"<br /><br />"You know," Rick gritted back, "I always feel a little safer in an airplane when I'm the person flying it."<br /><br />Scotty
raised his brows and smirked. "I am so glad you're not flying this one,
buster. It's a little out of your league, don't you think?"<br /><br />Rick
affected an insulted look. "Humphh! If I were flying this kite, I'd
take it back up over the clouds and scoot all the way up to The Pas. And
I mean '<i>The Paw</i>'! And I'd do it all blindfolded."<br /><br />"I'll
blindfold you, all right," Scotty jeered. "And gag you, too. We'd
probably run out of fuel and crash-land in a muskeg swamp. We'd have to
rent a dog sled and huskies and mush it up to Hudson Bay. They'd make us
honorary Eskimos for all our trouble."<br /><br />Rick digested this and a
grin split his face. "Now that sounds like a great adventure. Heck of a
lot more fun than what happened yesterday in New Jersey. Stick with me,
pal, and you'll find some excitement."<br /><br />"Tell me about it." Scotty
stiffened as the plane took an especially hard knock. "Guess I sure
learned that in the rocket launch contest and again last summer in
Tibet. But do you really think anything out of the ordinary can happen
here ...<i> in Canada</i>?"<br /><br />Both boys burst out laughing.<br /><br />"I think <i>everything</i> out of the ordinary can happen to us, <i>anywhere</i>," Rick chuckled.<br /><br />Then, suddenly, he let out, "Whoa -oa -oa -oa!"<br /><br />The
airplane was falling straight down at an incredible speed while still
maintaining its horizontal position. Several of the passengers shouted
and screamed. Then, just as suddenly, there was a terrific impact, as if
the plane had hit solid ground. There were more cries and shouts and a
loud "Yikes!" from Scotty.<br /><br />But the plane continued on its bumpy way as if nothing had happened.<br /><br />The
stewardess turned back to the passengers. "That was just a rough air
pocket, everybody. Don't worry, everything is all right. We'll soon be
home at The Peg."<br /><br />She was right. A few minutes later the
descending airliner shot out of the clouds into a whiter but even more
interminable gloom of thick falling snow. Rick could vaguely make out
some lights ahead, the big city of the Canadian plains in the thrall of
the Big Snow.<br /><br />"Definitely not ideal landing conditions," he muttered.<br /><br />"But a whole lot better than going back to Minnesota," Scotty put in, as the plane steeped and headed down to Stevenson Airport.<br /><br />The
boys held on grimly, hoping for a safe landing, and when the wheels
touched down smoothly on the tarmac cheers of exultation erupted from
the passengers.<br /><br />Rick and Scotty let out a few war whoops of their own.<br /><br />"Now that's what I call delivering the goods," Rick sighed in satisfaction.<br /><br />Scotty eagerly agreed. "This pilot sure knows how to earn his paycheck!"<br /><br />As
the plane taxied slowly to a halt, Rick looked out the window, trying
to penetrate the darkness of the heavy blowing snow. But there was
nothing to be seen except shadows. The stewardess unstrapped herself
and, after a few encouraging words to the passengers, went to the
forward cabin to confer with the pilot. When she returned a few minutes
later, the passengers were unfastening their seat belts and getting
together their carry-on bags.<br /><br />"The airport is closed because of
the storm and all flights are canceled," she told them. "Thank goodness
we were able to land, but all further incoming planes have been
rerouted. Of course, there are still people inside to help you, and you
can check with the ticket clerks if you had connecting flights. They'll
tell you when to call for updates on flight schedules. A bus will be
available to transport you to the downtown hotels so you do not have to
remain stranded at the airport. The storm is a severe one, but it may
blow over and move east into Ontario by tomorrow noon."<br /><br />Rick's brows twisted in consternation. "Looks like we'll have to hole up in town. What will we do about our equipment?"<br /><br />"We'll
have to store it here at the airport until we make further plans,"
Scotty figured. "We may have to take a train up to The Pas. Let's check
inside. The Department of Natural Resources may have left us a message."<br /><br />They
stood to file out with the other passengers, but as the door was opened
onto the portable staircase that had been rolled into place, gusts of
wind and snow blew wildly into the cabin.<br /><br />The stewardess grinned
sheepishly. "You'll all feel much better when you are safely back at
home or downtown in one of the hotels. You are all excellent fliers! And
those of you who are visitors, I welcome you to wonderful Winnipeg.
Unfortunately, you won't be able to see much of her until the snow
stops!"<br /><br />Once inside the airport building, the boys brushed snow
off their caps and coats, then lined up with some of the other
passengers at the ticket counters. They didn't have to wait long. The
various problems of the travelers were attended to with great
efficiency, and soon Rick was asking one of the clerks if a message had
been left for him about his connecting flight.<br /><br />"Yes, indeed," the
man responded, flipping through some memos on the counter. "Here it is,
to Mr. Rick Brant from the Manitoba Department of Natural Resources at
The Pas. The pilot, of course, could not fly down to meet you today.
There was so much snow up north that they will not be able to lift off
until later tomorrow at the earliest. They suggest you try the CNR to
see if any trains are running up to The Pas."<br /><br />The clerk placed
the memo on the counter top and jotted a phone number on it. "Here is
their number. But I doubt that any trains will be going north. They'll
have to clear the tracks through the lake country and up to central
province where several feet of snow fell. But they do it efficiently and
you'll probably be able to get a train by tomorrow noon if Winnipeg
itself doesn't get totally buried."<br /><br />"Thanks," Rick said. "I'll
give them a call. We're transporting some equipment with us. What can we
do about it until we know our next move?"<br /><br />"Just let me have your
cargo receipt number and we'll hold the equipment until we hear from
you. If you do get a train out, we can deliver your cargo to the CNR
station for you."<br /><br />"Hey, that's great," Scotty beamed, as Rick
took out the cargo ticket from his wallet and handed it to the clerk.
"Sure makes the inconvenience a lot easier."<br /><br />"I'm beginning to
like Canada a whole lot already," he added a minute later as he and Rick
made their way to the luggage pick-up area. "The people here seem to
know exactly what to do in an emergency like this."<br /><br />"Big Snows are pretty common here," Rick suggested. "Guess they've had a lot of experience."<br /><br />The
boys picked up their traveling bags and headed to a bank of phone
booths where Rick called the Canadian National Railroad office.<br /><br />"All
trains north of Dauphin are canceled until track clearance is completed
in the wake of the storm," he was told by the voice on the wire.
"Please call back in the morning. By then we may know at what time
through trains to The Pas will be departing again."<br /><br />Rick hung up
and related the news to Scotty. "Looks like we have to spend the night
in town. We may as well take the bus downtown and get a hotel room."<br /><br />Scotty
nodded in resignation, but then his eyes lit up. "And how about dinner
in St. Boniface? I could sure go for some of that fancy French cuisine."<br /><br />"Great idea. That is, if we can get over there. Who knows? The whole town may shut down as this blizzard sets in."<br /><br />But
if Rick expected Winnipeg to roll up and go to sleep because of the
storm, he was pleasantly surprised to be proven wrong. There was an
unexpected amount of traffic on Ellice Avenue as the airport bus made
its way downtown on the busy Saturday afternoon. There were hundreds of
bundled-up pedestrians hurrying up and down the sidewalks, heads bent
against the ruthless wind and blowing snow.<br /><br />"Brave souls, aren't they?" Rick murmured, watching the residents go about their business despite the severe weather conditions.<br /><br />Scotty
furrowed his brows. "It might not keep me and you inside, but a
blizzard like this at home in New Jersey would shut down the whole
state."<br /><br />A woman sitting in front of them laughed hardily and
turned to look at the boys. "Americans! How nice to see you, boys. I
live in Miami, where it never snows at all. This storm is terrifying
me!"<br /><br />Rick recognized her from the airliner and the line at the
ticket counter in the airport. "Hello there. What brings you all the way
up here from Florida at this time of year?"<br /><br />"I'm visiting my
aunt in Swan River for Christmas. I haven't seen her since I was a
little girl. I just telephoned her from the airport and she said they
had four feet of snow overnight. Just imagine! I hope to take the train
up there tomorrow. By then I'll probably need a sedative!"<br /><br />"We'll be on the first train north, too," Scotty told her. "All the way up to The Pas."<br /><br />"That's another hundred miles past Swan River," the woman said. "You boys are certainly headed for the wilds."<br /><br />Rick nodded. "You can say that again. From The Pas we're going to Churchill on Hudson Bay."<br /><br />"Churchill?
My gosh! Watch out for the polar bears. My aunt sent me a postcard from
there a few years ago. She wrote that those big white bears come right
into town."<br /><br />Rick smiled to himself. It was those big white bears
that had brought him and Scotty up to this frigid part of the world in
the first place, and he was looking forward to trying out The Barby Bear
Tracker on them. He hoped they'd be able to reach their destination
without too much further delay and soon be able to commence the
experiments.<br /><br />The woman introduced herself to the boys as Mrs.
Jane Fisher, a widow who had lost her husband in the war. She was
surprised to learn that Scotty had served in the Pacific.<br /><br />"You
certainly don't look old enough, young man," she said to him, "but thank
you for the sacrifice you have made for our country. And thank God you
made it back home in one piece. I get very blue at holiday time without
my husband around, so this year I've come to spend it with my aunt. I
was born here in Winnipeg and lived in the North End until I was five
years old. Then my folks moved to Florida and we became U.S. citizens. I
vaguely remember the cold and snow and I probably lived through a
couple of these Big Snows. But this is the first time I've been back to
Manitoba since my childhood."<br /><br />The bus had now reached the
downtown area and shadowy shapes of big civic buildings, hotels, and
department stores came into view. Traffic snarled and stacked up as they
approached the corners of Portage and Main, the city center, and Mrs.
Fisher told them that the famous corners were popularly billed as 'the
windiest spot in North America'.<br /><br />"And here I thought Chicago was the windy city," Scotty scoffed.<br /><br />The
friendly woman's eyes twinkled. "Try walking around Portage and Main on
a windy day and you'll change your mind about that - so they say."<br /><br />The
boys did indeed have to hold onto their caps as they stepped off the
bus into winds that stormed the corners with the power of freight
trains. Rick lugged their bags and Scotty aided Mrs. Fisher as they
hurried into the Royal Alexandra Hotel.<br /><br />"Whew!" Scotty brushed
snow off his coat sleeves in the elegant lobby of the Edwardian-era
hotel, now gaily festooned with Christmas decorations. He grinned at
Mrs. Fisher.<br /><br />"How many Winnipeggers get blown away every year?" he asked in jest.<br /><br />The
woman responded snappily. "No one really knows for sure because they
are never seen again. They blow all the way over to western Ontario and
get lost in the bush!"<br /><br />Rooms were secured at the front desk and
the boys politely declined Mrs. Fisher's invitation to join her for
dinner in the hotel dining room.<br /><br />"Scotty wants to go to St. Boniface," Rick explained, "to sample the French cuisine. He's quite a connoisseur of fine foods."<br /><br />"Well,
good luck getting there, boys. Normally you could hike right over the
bridge, but in this weather you might get blown off. Don't miss the
cathedral on Tache Avenue. That's one thing I do remember from my
childhood. It's lovely."<br /><br />They took the elevator up to their rooms
and made plans to meet with Mrs. Fisher and some of the other stranded
travelers in the lobby later in the evening. Rick and Scotty's room was
comfortably furnished in the old-world tradition and its windows looked
out onto Main Street, the Red River, and St. Boniface beyond. But in the
gloom of the blizzard hardly a thing could be seen except the dim
shapes of buildings across the way.<br /><br />"Who was Alexandra?" Rick
asked, pulling some items out of his bag. "The woman they named this
hotel after? Does it say anything about her in the travel guide?"<br /><br />Scotty
plopped down on one of the beds and stretched out his long frame as he
paged through the booklet. "The hotel is listed in here, but it doesn't
give any historical information. Hmmm, could it be one of those Russian
princesses from the early part of the century - the Romanovs?"<br /><br />Rick's
brows knit in thought. "Queen Victoria had daughters. Maybe one of them
was Alexandra. It's more likely they'd name a hotel in Canada after an
English princess than a Russian one."<br /><br />"Let's wager a bet on it," Scotty suggested. "When we go out to eat, we can ask the clerk in the lobby who Alexandra was."<br /><br />"Speaking
of dinner," Rick said, with a forceful clearing of his throat. "You'd
better get those two hundred pounds of yours off that bed and back on
your feet. It may take us a while to get over to St. Boniface, and I can
feel my stomach grumbling already."<br /><br />Scotty grinned at the
ceiling. "Mine always grumbles, day and night, day in and day out. The
darn thing never seems to get enough. Only problem is, it feels great to
be laying down like this. I'm still sore from yesterday and sitting
cramped up in airplanes all day sure didn't help."<br /><br />Rick snapped his suitcase shut. "Suit yourself. I'll go eat French food by myself."<br /><br />Scotty was back on his feet in a flash. "I guess I can endure a few aches and pains in the pursuit of the perfect meal!"<br /><br />The
boys freshened up, pulled on their heavy coats, caps, and gloves, then
hurried back down to the lobby. Scotty walked over to check out the
elaborately decorated Christmas tree set before a bank of windows
looking out to Main Street while Rick went up to the front desk to ask
about the Alexandra of the hotel's name. When he joined Scotty a minute
later by the heavily adorned tree, his face wore a chagrined expression.<br /><br />"We
were both wrong," he almost whispered. "But don't tell Mrs. Spencer,
our history teacher. She'd bop us both. We should've known."<br /><br />"What? Who was she?"<br /><br />"She
was Princess Alexandra of Denmark and she married Edward VII, Queen
Victoria's son who was the King of England during the first decade of
this century."<br /><br />Scotty pondered a moment, rubbing his chin. "Oh sure, the Edwardian era."<br /><br />"Right.
She was King Edward's queen consort, a queen by marriage only, but
always a princess. We should've remembered. We studied all that British
lineage earlier in the school year."<br /><br />Scotty smiled tolerantly.
"Come on, boy genius. We can't remember everything about every royal we
study. Besides, it's just not as interesting as electronics and science,
which are far more important anyway. At least you guessed English. I
was way off with Russian."<br /><br />Rick's face brightened. "Right. My guess was closest to the correct answer. Does that mean I win the bet?"<br /><br />"Sure, and the winner gets to pay for dinner."<br /><br />Rick
laughed and pounded Scotty's shoulder. "Yah, right. Since when does the
winner pay? Let's get a move on, pal. The Big Snow awaits our return
into its midst."<br /><br />It seemed that the relentless wild gusts of wind
roaring down Main Street would surely blow the boys down, or perhaps up
and away, but they were lucky enough to hail a taxi within a couple of
minutes after foraging out into the storm.<br /><br />"St. Boniface," Rick told the driver. "The cathedral. We'd like to see that first."<br /><br />The man frowned as he pulled away from the curb. "Sightseeing in this weather, eh?"<br /><br />"You
bet," Scotty replied. "We're from the States and will probably never
get another chance to visit Winnipeg." He twitched his nostrils in
anticipation. "And I can smell that delectable French food way on this
side of the river."<br /><br />The taxi driver chuckled. "Spoken like a true tourist. Try <i>La Petite Maison</i>
on Provencher Boulevard. It's right around the corner from the
cathedral. M'sieur LaPierre has quite a reputation with the American
diners."<br /><br />The car turned onto the Water Street bridge that crossed
the Red River to the city of St. Boniface. The boys peered out the
windows but could see only vague impressions of the frozen winding
waterway that had played such an important part in the settling and
development of western Canada. Soon they were driving through St.
Boniface on Provencher Boulevard, and the taxi made a quick right turn
onto Tache Avenue and pulled up in front of the famous cathedral.<br /><br />The driver smirked, raising his brows. "Are you sure you fellas want to get out here?"<br /><br />Rick
looked at the wind-driven snow outside the car and shrugged his
shoulders. "Yep, we're on our way up to Churchill, so we'd better be
able to handle this."<br /><br />"It'll be good experience for Hudson Bay,"
the driver agreed as Scotty paid him the fare. "But in weather like
this, tourists usually aren't running around out and about."<br /><br />Scotty let out a loud guffaw after he and Rick had stepped out of the taxi and slammed the doors behind them. "<i>Oot and aboot!</i>" he hooted, mimicking the cabby's accent. "Did you know, Mr. Brant, that tourists in Winnipeg usually are not running around <i>oot and aboot </i>in weather like this?"<br /><br />Grinning,
Rick slapped Scotty on the back. "Relax, Max. That's just Canadian for
'out and about'. Which, if we had any sense, we wouldn't be! Just
imagine, we had the nerve to complain yesterday when we were tied up in
the cold by the river in New Jersey. That was nothing compared to this
crazy weather."<br /><br />Scotty pulled on his thick gloves. "Right. But
today we are not tied up, and we're properly dressed for the cold. Hey,
look at that awesome cathedral. No wonder it's a famous tourist
attraction."<br /><br />The boys trudged across the snow-covered lawns
leading up to the huge twin-towered cathedral that soared far up into
the sky. Between the bell towers was a triple-arched entryway, above
which loomed an enormous round stained-glass window that glowed
ever-so-slightly in the almost impenetrable gloom. Under the entrance
arches were spruce and pine trees festooned with rows of colorful
lights, in their midst a life-sized manger scene with the newborn
infant, Mary and Joseph, the three Wise Men, and all the attentive
stable animals.<br /><br />Rick was impressed far more than he would have
expected, moved by the eerie atmosphere and soaring architecture. "It
almost beats St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York, don't you think?"<br /><br />"Pretty
close," Scotty agreed. "I'll bet the interior is beautiful, too.
According to the travel guide, this is the fourth St. Boniface
Cathedral. The original was just a log building, and it was the first
church in western Canada and the Red River settlements."<br /><br />Rick saw
that Scotty was almost totally covered with snow. "You look like a big
snowman," he laughed. "Let's see if we can go inside for a moment or two
and get out of this storm."<br /><br />The boys hurried under the center
arch, past the pungent evergreens and manger, and pulled open the
massive front doors which swooshed closed behind them from the force of
the wind as they entered the vestibule. Suddenly, all was quiet, as the
thick old walls shut out the roar of the Big Snow.<br /><br />"Wow," Scotty whispered, spinning around. "This place sure is swell."<br /><br />Beautiful
cut and scored stone and thick rich timbers formed the vestibule which
was lined by statues of the saints in both directions leading to the
bell towers. A mellow glow from banks of flickering votive candles lit
the way and the solemn hush of silence sent chills up the boys' spines
as they brushed snow from their caps and coats.<br /><br />Ahead, through
elaborately carved open doors, could be seen the nave of the enormous
church. A center aisle, lined by rows of pews on either side, led,
underneath a towering and vaulted ceiling, up to a raised sanctuary and
altar. It was flanked by statues of angels and saints and dimly lit by
dancing candles and stained-glass windows. Christmas evergreens, adorned
with twinkling lights and banked high with brilliant crimson poinsettia
plants, clustered the sanctuary.<br /><br />"Gosh," Rick breathed. "Mom and Barby would sure love to see this place."<br /><br />Scotty pulled off his cap. "It's wonderful. Makes you feel kind of humble."<br /><br />Rick
pulled off his cap, too. But he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped
his lips. "And to make you feel humble," he whispered, "it's really got
to be mind-boggling."<br /><br />Scotty smiled at the remark, but he didn't
respond as he stepped forward tentatively, feeling somewhat breathless.
Rick followed, a hand on his chest in awe. There was the sweet smell of
incense in the air and, mixed with the heady scents of the candles and
evergreens, it seemed to the boys that they had truly stepped into
another world, far away and far apart from the one they had left outside
in the snow.<br /><br />Then, suddenly, the miracle of silence within the
awesome cathedral was shattered by an angry shout and the click-clack of
heels on the old stone floor!<br /><br />Rick and Scotty spun to their
left, in the direction of the startling sounds. Two figures rushed
through the archway in the base of the bell tower on that end and
hurried down the vestibule in the heat of an argument. Rick felt himself
almost pulled off his feet as Scotty dragged him into the shadows
behind a large statue of the Virgin Mary cradling the prostrate
crucified Jesus in her arms.<br /><br />"But, <i>mon Pere</i>, you cannot .... <i>sacre</i>! You cannot allow this to continue!"<br /><br />The
angry words were spoken by a boy their own age, dressed in a fur cap
and a red and black checked mackinaw. His accent was heavily French and
there was unmistakable outrage in his pleading tones.<br /><br />He was
addressing a priest, middle-aged and bearded, and wearing flowing
monk-like robes. He was walking quickly in front of the boy, obviously
not wanting to hear what the young fellow had to say.<br /><br />"<i>Arret! Arret!</i>"
he spat back to the boy. "You must stop this interference into matters
that are not of your concern, Pierre! You do not understand that about
which you speak. You are just a boy, interfering in the world of men. I
pray that you drop this matter!"<br /><br />"<i>Mon Dieu!</i>" the boy
exclaimed, grabbing the priest by the arm as they both rushed on. "You
have involved my uncle in this. He could lose everything he has worked
so hard for all his life. It can harm me, too. I will be disgraced at
the English Academy. It is wrong, Father Jacques. It is wrong!"<br /><br />The
priest shrugged off the boy's hand and stopped before the big front
doors. He pushed one open and gusts of wind and snow shot in, billowing
his robes and causing the candles in the vestibule to flicker wildly.<br /><br />He pointed out the door. "Go, Pierre! <i>Sortir!</i> And do not come back unless you wish to attend Mass and pray. I will not speak to you of this matter again!"<br /><br />The
candlelight illumined the boy's face as Rick and Scotty cringed back
against the wall in the shadows. His expression was so intense that they
could feel his deep emotion across the space that separated them.<br /><br />Fury overtook him and he shouted at the priest. "<i>Grace a Dieu!</i> I will not remain silent and allow my uncle and myself to come to ruin. I will stop you, <i>mon Pere</i>. This cannot be! I will not allow us to be destroyed by ... by ... <i>La Mort Rouge</i>!"<br /><br />And
with that, he stormed angrily out into the blizzard and the priest
hurriedly pulled the door shut, muttering to himself as he brushed
flakes of snow from his robes. He turned, poker-faced and angry, staring
straight ahead, and strode quickly through the doors into the nave of
the cathedral. His quick footsteps echoed in the empty church as he
hurried down the aisle toward the altar.<br /><br />Rick pushed himself away from the wall, his heart pounding. He could have touched the priest as he had rushed by.<br /><br />He whispered to Scotty, "Jeez, what do you think that was all about?"<br /><br />Frowning, Scotty blew out a tense breath. "<i>La Mort Rouge</i>! The Red Death. The smallpox plague. Barby spoke of it last night, remember?"<br /><br />"Yes, but the disease itself is all but eradicated from this part of the world now."<br /><br />"But she said the people up this way can still be superstitious about it and its legends."<br /><br />Rick nodded slowly. "Obviously. But this has to be something different. Something big, and <i>bad</i>. That boy is really scared it can harm him and his uncle."<br /><br />He
gaped around at the vestibule in the flickering candlelight, with its
life-like statues frozen in pious, dramatic poses. He looked at the
Virgin Mary's face and saw the pain in her eyes, and he shuddered.
Something was wrong, very wrong. In this place of good and beauty, they
had witnessed something that could pertain only to bad and evil.<br /><br />"Scotty!"
Rick hissed. "We've got to help that boy. Let's hurry out and catch up
to him. We can't let his life be ruined by this <i>La Mort Rouge </i>- whatever the heck it might be!"<br /><br /> </span></b></span>stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-39529156232260496342013-01-31T17:27:00.000-08:002013-01-31T17:28:04.276-08:00RICK BRANT RED DEATH 2<br />
<br />
<b><b><b><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">all current chapters available at this alternate site:<br /><a href="https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction">https:/<span style="font-size: large;">/</span>sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction </a></span></b></span></b></b></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><i><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"> THE SIGN OF THE RED DEATH</span></span></i></span></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><i>Rick Brant fanfiction adventure</i></span></span></b>
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #990000;">Chapter Two: HIGHWAY ROBBERY</span> </span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick suddenly found
himself sprawled out on the cold hard ground several yards from the
banged-up coupe, which had stalled and jerked to a standstill near the
riverbank. His head was spinning, spots danced in front of his eyes, and
he gaped around in bewilderment. He heard a groan and turned to see
Scotty struggling to sit up just a few feet away, a hand to his cheek
and a trickle of blood rolling down from his nose.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Scotty, you okay?"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty opened his mouth
to speak but his words were squelched by the slamming of the doors of
the big sedan that had been chasing them. It had stopped not ten feet
away. Three men jumped out, all of them wearing dark overcoats and
wide-brimmed hats pulled down low. One of them, the driver, immediately
leveled a gun at the boys.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Alright, you eggs,
stay where you are!" There was venom in his tones and his eyes held a
mean glint. "We'd hate to have to hurt you any more than you already
are."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick scowled, twisting
up painfully into a sitting position, and he and Scotty exchanged
feverish glances. What had they gotten themselves into now? Scotty
nodded slightly, letting Rick know he was okay. Then Rick placed his
hands flat on the ground to steady himself. The wind had been knocked
out of him and he found himself sucking in huge gulps of air.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Shake a leg," the gunman grunted to his accomplices. "See what kind of goods are in that coupe."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick blinked in
confusion a couple times before he could comprehend that he and Scotty
were being robbed. He watched as the other two men began to ransack the
wrecked car, stiffening when he saw them pull the shopping bags out of
the back seat.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Hey, those are Christmas gifts!" he exploded.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">The man with the gun
laughed harshly and leered at the boys, showing rows of chipped uneven
teeth. "Expensive gifts, too, I'll betcha. Parking your car at the Plaza
is a dead giveaway that you got plenty of cash money to spend."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"So you did follow us from the hotel," Scotty spat angrily. "What made you think you'd be able to stop us?"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">The thug chuckled in
grim conceit. He pointed his gun at the rear end of the rental car.
"That was duck soup, chum. Jersey plates, car rental decal on the back
window. That spells 'Newark Airport' to me. And there sure are some nice
lonely roads out this-a-way."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">The other two thieves
had opened the trunk of the coupe. Finding nothing of value within, they
slammed it shut and carried the shopping bags over to the sedan.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Guess this is it, boss," one of them said. "There's some nice stuff in these bags. Not a bad haul."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">With a low snicker, he and the other man placed the shopping bags into the back seat of the big black car.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick clenched his fists
in anger, staring in speechless amazement at the robbers. He and Scotty
had spent a lot of money on the gifts, especially the bear claw
necklace for Barby, which he knew they'd never be able to replace. And
they wouldn't have another chance to go Christmas shopping! They were
leaving for Canada in the morning.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty had pulled a
handkerchief from his back pocket and was dabbing at the blood dripping
from his nose. He looked at the men with contempt. "How'd you know we'd
been shopping?" he demanded.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">The leader of the
highway robbers lowered his gun a few inches and spoke with a
condescending disdain. "Don't know much about a stake-out, do you? We
saw you get out of the taxi and go in the hotel carrying those bags with
Fifth Avenue store names on 'em. So we just sat and waited for you to
pull out of the garage."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">One of the other men
snorted, then his voice rang out with humor. "Tell 'em about it! This is
our busy time of year, ain't it?. Cripes, we work twelve hours a day or
more during the Christmas season!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">He let out a loud
guffaw and the other two thugs joined in for a hearty laugh. Then the
'boss' with the gun said, "Get the ropes and tie these boys to the
bumpers of that coupe. We don't want 'em running out to the pike and
getting the cops on our trail."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Several lengths of rope
were retrieved from the sedan's trunk and Rick and Scotty were forced
to get up on their feet and walk over to the rental car. Rick's head was
reeling and he ached all over, and he knew that Scotty probably didn't
feel any better. The last thing they needed now was to be tied up to the
car in the cold and the falling snow!</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">His eyes spat daggers
at the three men as he was forced to sit down on the ground next to the
coupe's back bumper. "Are you guys crazy? We'll freeze to death out
here!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"We won't gag you," the
boss jeered in his hard-as-nails tones. "We'll give you a break. After
all, you made this heist easy for us by pulling off the road and driving
back here. If you holler loud enough, someone'll hear you, sooner or
later."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick's wrists were
securely bound to the heavy metal bumper with the stout ropes. Scotty
was then shoved to the front of the coupe, almost on the water's edge.
They pushed him down to the ground and tied his wrists to the front
bumper. Rick could see only Scotty's legs because of the opened
passenger door.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">When the men were done,
they turned away and tossed back a couple taunting goodbyes as they
strode to the sedan. Then they climbed into the big car and, moments
later, its engine roared to life. The car backed up and turned around,
then shot forward down the dirt road. Rick and Scotty were left alone in
the falling snow, bound to the bumpers of the damaged rental car.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">For a minute or two
there was complete silence. Then Rick's voice rang out, "Jeez! What do
you make of it, Scotty? I've heard of highway robbery, but who'd think
crooks would follow you all the way out here from Fifth Avenue?"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"I don't get it,"
Scotty retorted angrily. "If they watched us get out of the taxi and go
into the hotel, how would they know we parked our car in the garage and
would be coming back out? We could have been registered guests and
staying overnight, for all they'd know."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Good point." Rick
tugged aimlessly at the ropes binding his wrists. "Maybe they saw us
pull in earlier? They may just play a waiting game, watching to see who
goes in to park, goes shopping, then comes back out in their car."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty grunted. "Could
be. It was sure worth their trouble, anyway. We spent several hundred
dollars on those gifts. Did you happen to get their license plate
number? I didn't even think of looking."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick puzzled a moment,
then rolled his eyes in chagrin. "I didn't think of it either.
Everything happened so fast and my head feels like I got a concussion.
Guess I'm not thinking clearly."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"That makes two of us."
Rick could hear the slow burn of anger in Scotty's voice. "This is bad
news. We wrecked this sharp-looking coupe and lost all our Christmas
gifts!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">A sudden thought tugged painfully at Rick. "And the extra bear tracker collar in the shopping bag, too!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty groaned in
response. "Right! I forgot all about it. And now we're both half-knocked
out from being thrown from the car, and tied up in this desolate spot
where no one will ever find us. We may as well be on the moon!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"And even if we do get
out of here," Rick added, "we won't be able to fly the Cub home. It'd be
too late by the time we get to the airport." He looked up at the bleak
sky and grimaced. "It'll be dark in a couple hours and we'll never get
back on the road by then."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick's yellow Piper Cub
was not equipped for night flying, nor was he experienced at it. It
appeared that they were trapped in this miserable lonely spot with no
hope in sight.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Then Scotty suddenly
let out a wild hoot. "Wait a minute! The bear tracker! You're wearing
the tracker collar on your arm. Barby will know where we are!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">A grin crossed Rick's
face and a tide of relief washed over him as he once again became aware
of the snug coil of the collar around his arm. He started to laugh.
"Man, it totally slipped my mind!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Then both boys were laughing heartily as relief and hope made the dire situation they were in seem suddenly not so perilous.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick breathed out a happy sigh. "Whew! Barby is probably right now wondering why we've stopped along the river."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty hooted again. "Yeah, just a quick stop to do some fishing."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"If it gets any colder," Rick snapped back, "it'll be ice fishing."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"If the river freezes, that's okay," Scotty went on.. "Just so it doesn't rise. A few more feet and I'll be in it!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Don't worry. We'll be
all right." The flame of hope now sparked in Rick's eyes. "Barby will
know that something's wrong. There's no way we'd stop out here. She
knows we have to fly home before dark." He flexed the bicep of his arm
to feel the snugness of the collar again, feeling like a goose for
having forgotten about it. "Barby will tell Dad we've mysteriously
stopped. He'll call the police and we'll be rescued...."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Hopefully before we turn into icicles," Scotty cut in with a grim chuckle.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick looked up to the
gloomy sky again with its increasingly thickening snowflakes fluttering
down. He was grateful that it wasn't particularly windy. That would have
made the cold feel much colder and the ordeal of being bound to the car
by the riverbank even more threatening.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Try to move around," he suggested. "Can you stand up? I think I can. I'm not quite so dizzy anymore."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Fortunately, Rick's
wrists were tied to the bumper in front of him and not behind his back.
Leaning against the bumper and trunk, he pushed himself to his feet. But
it cost him some effort. He was breathing hard and felt dizzy again in
the stooped-over position.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Ho!" he gasped, leaning heavily against the back of the car. "I feel like I just took on Notre Dame's entire defensive line."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">There was a series of
grunts and groans from Scotty. Then, "Confound it! I'm up on my knees
but now my head's spinning. This'll drive me batty!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"I'm on my feet," Rick
told him, "but not too steady. Maybe I can cut these ropes on the
bumpers' edges if I can get some slack."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Good idea. And I'm going to shout. I'll put this booming voice of mine to good use."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick smiled as Scotty started yelling, "<i>Help! Help! Help!</i>"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"They ought to hear you all the way back home on Spindrift Island," Rick laughed.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"That's the idea. And somebody has got to be around here somewhere. At least I hope so. And I intend to make them hear me!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty continued his
shouting and Rick kept on pulling and tugging at the ropes. He groaned
in exasperation, wishing this awful ordeal was over and done with, and
that he and Scotty were back home - safe, sound, and warm.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Hey there, Mr. Scott," he called out. "I guess this is good practice for being outdoors up at Hudson Bay."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Yah, right," he heard
Scotty jeer back. "Only problem is, we're dressed for Christmas shopping
on Fifth Avenue, not for polar bear tracking in the subarctic."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"So right you are,"
Rick agreed, shivering in the leather bomber jacket he wore for flying
the Cub. "Brrr! So right you are........"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">They would be staying
at Fort Churchill up in Manitoba, a Canadian military base near the town
of Churchill and the shores of Hudson Bay. Rick knew that the military
would outfit them in all the latest cold weather gear worn by the
soldiers for their maneuvers. They'd probably be as warm in the subzero
northern cold as they would be basking in the sun on a south Florida
beach. Certainly much warmer than they were right here and now!</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Time passed slowly as
the boys struggled with their bonds and tried to warm up by jiggling
around the best they could. Rick was just beginning to get a little
slack in the rope that bound his left wrist when he realized that Scotty
had stopped shouting for help.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Hey, did you fall asleep?" he asked.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"No, sir! It's too cold to sleep. I'm just resting my voice. There's no one around to hear me anyway. Heck, I may as well sing."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Please don't," Rick shot back with affected fright. "Lest you forget, I'm here. I'd hear every miserable note of it."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty noisily cleared his throat. "Good. Talk about a captive audience!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">With that, he burst into song, a warbling rendition of <i>The White Cliffs of Dover</i>
that rang out over the wetlands like a gorilla's mating call. Rick
cringed, but he couldn't help laughing. The lovely ballad that had been a
victory call to millions during the war was never intended to be
delivered in that manner.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"You sound worse than Bob Hope and Martha Raye, together," he called out.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty ended the verse
he'd been warbling. "Humphh! In that case, buster, you'll now have to
endure my down-home-hillbilly version of <i>G. I. Jive</i>."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Oh no," Rick groaned,
as Scotty segued into a bouncy country rendition of the popular swing
tune about the woes of military camp. But he smiled in satisfaction as
he looked around at the desolate riverside landscape. Scotty always had a
way of bringing some humor into a stressful and dangerous situation. He
hoped, however, that he wouldn't have to listen to all of Scotty's
favorite songs that he had learned in the Marines. Somebody had better
come to rescue them, and soon!</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">But time dragged on,
and Scotty sang on and on, as the sky began to darken and the snow fell
harder. Rick's fingers, even though gloved, were numb from the cold, and
he felt completely exhausted and aching all over. He'd given up trying
to loosen the ropes after having little luck at it, and was now sitting
on the ground again, shivering and listening to Scotty's grating vocals.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">It was too late now to
fly the Cub home. It was already dark. It seemed like they had been
there for hours and hours. Was help never going to arrive?</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Come on, Barby, " Rick muttered to himself. "Come on! You've just got to have figured out by now that we've stopped!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Several minutes later as Scotty was just revving up an especially hoarse and boisterous <i>Chattanooga Choo Choo</i>, Rick suddenly heard the wailing of a siren in the distance.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Yippee!" he cried, pushing himself back up to his feet. "Scotty! It's a siren. Out there on the pike!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty abruptly stopped
singing. The wailing siren was loud and clear. "It's the police! Coming
for us! They can throw me in jail, for all I care. Just so the heat is
on!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Both boys began to yell
at the top of their lungs as the blaring siren drew closer and closer.
The whining wail seemed to hover in a spot, then move on, at times
diminishing as it moved further away, but then it would come back in
their direction again, growing louder.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"They're searching,"
Rick said. "Must be other roads along this way that lead into the woods.
Hey, it sounds like they made a turn and are coming down the dirt road
toward us!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">The siren was indeed
closing in on them. Soon they saw the bright beams of headlights
twisting and turning through the darkness of the woods. Rick stiffened
and his nerves began to tingle. Then he and Scotty were shouting again,
their voices hoarse and strained but filled with exultation.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Over here!"</span></b></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"This way!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Ho! Here we are!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">The car with the
blaring siren shot out from the trees and brush and its headlights fixed
directly on the damaged coupe with the boys bound to it on either end.
Rick blinked and averted his eyes to avoid the sudden bright glare as
the vehicle, a Newark police car, pulled up to a skidding halt a few
feet away. The front doors flew open and two burly police officers
jumped out. For a moment they were stunned and stood there gaping in
surprise at the boys. Then they sprang forward, quick concern flashing
in their eyes.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"What goes on here?" snapped the officer who had been driving. "What happened to you fellows?"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Highway robbery," Rick
was quick to answer. "We were Christmas shopping in Manhattan. Three
crooks trailed us all the way out here in a big sedan. We headed down
this road to get away, but it sure was a mistake."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"You bet it was,"
Scotty broke in. "They followed us and shot out a back tire. It set us
into a spin and we side-swiped that tree and were thrown from the car."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Then they stole our
Christmas gifts," Rick added in disgusted tones, "and tied us up to the
bumpers. Right out here in the cold and snow."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"No good so-and-so's!"
The driver of the patrol car growled as he pulled out a pocket knife
and hurried over to Scotty. "Stealing from shoppers increases every year
at holiday time, but it's usually confined to Manhattan and downtown
Newark."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Right," the other
policeman agreed, as he too pulled a knife from his belt and approached
Rick. "This is a first, out here by the river. You boys could have
frozen to death. Good thing we got that call from Whiteside."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Whiteside?" Rick exclaimed, as the man began cutting the ropes around his wrists.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Yes indeed, young man.
Our station got a call from Captain Douglas at the Whiteside police
barracks about twenty minutes ago. Said to look for two boys stalled
along the river, right in this very area. Something about a radio
tracking experiment gone wrong."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"It sure did go wrong,"
Scotty growled, as he was helped up to his feet. "We never expected
highway robbery to be thrown into the equation."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick was cut free and
helped up onto his wobbly legs. He had to lean against the car for a few
moments before he could take a step forward.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Better get inside the cruiser, boys," they were urged. "You've been out in this cold far too long."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Walking felt like
something they'd have to learn all over again as the policemen helped
the boys over to the patrol car and into the back seat.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Do you need anything from your coupe?" asked one of the men.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick leaned back
wearily against the cushions. "No. It's a rental car from Newark
Airport. The thieves took everything that belonged to us."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Then just sit back and
relax," the driver said, as the doors slammed. "We'll get you to
headquarters in a jiffy. Your folks are coming there to meet you. In
from some island, I think."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Spindrift Island,"
Rick said, as the warmth from the car's heater overwhelmed him. He felt
like he could float away into pleasant oblivion.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">The other officer turned the heater up a notch. "Isn't that the location of the famous scientific laboratories?"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Right," Scotty
answered, sprawled out on the back seat. "Rick and his family live
there. His dad runs the laboratories. I work for them and live there,
too." He guffawed loudly and slapped his knee, adding, "Oh, lucky me!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick elbowed him in the
ribs as the cruiser sped back to the pike. "Lucky you is right. Look at
the adventure you just had. Which you certainly wouldn't have had if
you didn't pal around with me!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty rolled his eyes
heavenward. "Oh sure. Chased by crooks, thrown from a car, tied up all
afternoon in the winter cold. What a great ball! Next time I pick a
friend, I'll make sure he's the son of a <i>librarian</i>, not a famous scientist."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">The policemen chuckled
at the boys' friendly banter as the patrol car pulled off the dirt road
and roared on down the pike toward Newark, which could now be seen
twinkling with lights in the distance.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty leaned closer to
Rick. "Barby came through," he whispered. "Just like we figured she
would. Not only is the tracking system a success, but it already saved
our lives!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick grunted in
agreement, feeling himself begin to slip away. Scotty was right, the
system was a success. Their rescue in the wetlands proved it. But
something kept nagging at his mind as the warmth inside the cruiser
enveloped him. Something just didn't seem right. But whatever it was, he
just couldn't think straight enough to put a finger on it. Then his
lids drooped and complete exhaustion overtook him.</span></b></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: medium;">************</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /> </span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;">"Wake up, Rick. Don't think these Newark police
are going to let you sleep the night away. They want a complete report
from us about the accident and robbery."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick opened his eyes to
see Scotty looking down at him. He was standing outside the police car
holding out his hand, waiting for Rick to join him.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"And they have a doctor here at the station to check us out. 'Attaboy, rise and shine."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Like in a dream he
didn't want to awaken from, Rick reached out to Scotty and let his
friend pull him out of the back seat. There was a dull throb in his head
and it seemed that every bone and muscle in his body was aching.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">He grimaced and forced a laugh. "I hope that doctor has some strong pain pills. I think I'm going to need a few."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Glaring lights lit up
the yard in back of the police station and cast weird shadows on the
patrol cars and other vehicles parked in the lot. Through the falling
snow, the skyscrapers of downtown Newark could be seen looming over the
rooftop ahead, their windows bright with light for late office workers
and cleaning crews. Rick groaned in dismay as he and Scotty fell into
step behind the two policemen who led them to the back entrance.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"What's wrong?" Scotty asked.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"The Cub. We'll have to leave it at the airport for now."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"May as well just keep
it there until we get back from Canada," Scotty suggested. "It'll only
be a week or so. The mechanics can give it a once over."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Good idea," Rick
agreed. "Dad and Hobart can drive us to the airport in the morning and
we'll arrange to store the Cub in a hangar."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Hobart Zircon was a
famous scientist who lived with the Brants and worked at the Spindrift
Laboratories. He was a big booming man who was afraid of nothing and
nobody, and he had accompanied the boys on the expedition to Tibet
earlier in the year.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Don't you wish Hobart was coming with us to Hudson Bay?" Scotty asked, as he and Rick entered the building.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"It'd sure be great to
have him join us," Rick agreed. "I know I'd feel better having him
along. But we should be okay on our own. What could possibly happen in
Canada?"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"There they are!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"The boys!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Rick!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Scotty!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Familiar voices rang
out in exclamation from down the corridor, and the boys looked ahead to
see Mr. and Mrs. Brant and Barby hurrying toward them. Following close
behind were Hobart Zircon and Jerry Webster, their friend who was a
reporter for the Whiteside Morning Record.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">In a moment the group
had reached their side and there was pandemonium for several minutes as
shouts and cries of greeting were heaped upon them. Every hug and
handshake and slap on the back made both Rick and Scotty wince in pain
because of their bruises and sore muscles and bones.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Hold it, already!" Rick laughed in the confusion, as he hugged Barby happily. "We're okay. Really! Just banged up a little."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"I had a bloody nose,
but it's all right now," said Scotty, as Barby pulled away from Rick to
hug him in turn. "That was good going, Barby. We knew you'd wonder what
was wrong and call the police."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Barby looked up to him
with wide round eyes, and then gaped over to Rick. "But what happened?
All of a sudden you stopped, and then didn't budge. By the river outside
of Newark, of all places. After a while I knew something had to be
wrong!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Yes, Rick," Mrs. Brant worriedly put in. "Tell us what happened."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"We were stalked all
the way from Fifth Avenue and robbed," Rick explained, as the two police
officers patiently waited for them. He told the others about the
stake-out and resulting attack in the wetlands by the lonely pike.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"My gosh!" Mrs. Brant declared, wringing her hands. "That's awful. Who would think something like that could happen nowadays?"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"I'd sure like to get
my hands on those birds," Hobart Zircon growled, raising a big fist.
"Shoot at my friends and tie them up in the cold? No way! They better
hope they don't run into <i>me</i>."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Hartson Brant shook his
head in dismay, but there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes as he
looked at Rick and Scotty. "At least you boys didn't get hurt seriously.
You could've broken some bones in that car crash, or worse. But have no
fear, the police will round up those second-rate thieves."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"You bet they will,"
barked Jerry Webster, who was jotting down notes on his ever-present
pad. "I'll write this up for the morning paper with full details.
Everyone in North Jersey will be wise to those thugs and on the lookout
for them. If they have any brains, they'll stay in Manhattan after
this!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Rick suddenly snapped
his fingers. "There was an extra bear tracker collar in one of those
shopping bags. The thieves might activate it!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Barby nodded eagerly in
understanding, her blonde ponytail bobbing. "I'll keep the receiving
unit on day and night in case they do. I'll be able to get their
coordinates and send the law right to their doorstep." She stopped to
chuckle. "Well, maybe not that precise, but at least to their
neighborhood."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"And hopefully get all
our Christmas gifts back," Scotty interjected. "We bought some really
neat stuff. Expensive, too. And a very special gift for you, Barby -
well, it's one-of-a-kind. It can't be replaced."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Don't you fret," she
returned, eyes sparkling. "People are curious. Those men will surely
activate the collar. And I'll track them down!"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"And now we had better
let the doctor check you boys out, and make a police report about the
incident," advised Rick's distinguished-looking and famous dad, nodding
in the direction of the waiting policemen. "Then we can return home to
Spindrift Island. You are flying to Manitoba tomorrow and still have
plenty of preparations to make."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">As they walked down the
hall to the headquarters main office, Rick asked Barby if she had come
across any information about black polar bears while doing her research.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">She looked at him oddly. "Funny you should ask that, Rick. Yes, there is the legend of <i>Nanook noir</i>,
the spirit bear, or sometimes called the devil bear. It's an old Eskimo
legend. The aboriginal people of the far north have all kinds of spooky
superstitions. Then add to that the beliefs of the old French fur
trappers and <i>voyageurs</i>, the Cree and Chippewayan Indians, and the resulting half-breeds called the <i>Metis</i>
- and you have a whole encyclopedia-full of north country scary
stories." Barby shuddered. "One I found really fascinating was the
legend of <i>La Mort Rouge</i>."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>"La Mort Rouge</i>?" repeated Scotty. "What's that?"</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"The Red Death."
Barby's eyes widened. "That's what they called the smallpox plagues that
ravaged Europe and North America in the latter decades of the last
century. It brought horrible death to thousands in Canada's far north,
and to this day many of the people remain fearful of it and
superstitious. They say that off in remote far-flung places you can
still see the sign of the Red Death - a red cloth flag hung from the
doorway of an old abandoned cabin in which someone had died from the
disease."</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">Scotty looked at her in
wonderment for a moment. Then, with a grin, he faked a nervous shudder.
He reached over and clapped Rick on the shoulder.</span></b></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;">"Wow! We may have to think twice about this trip," he declared. "<i>Black</i> polar bears and the <i>Red</i> Death! What in the world are we getting ourselves into, old chum?"</span></b></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
</div>
stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-3825396889837401012013-01-31T13:45:00.001-08:002013-01-31T17:26:24.477-08:00RICK BRANT RED DEATH 1<div dir="ltr">
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<b><b><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">T</span><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">HE SIGN OF THE RED DEATH</span><b><br /> a Rick Brant fanfiction advent<span style="font-size: large;">ure<br /><br />all current chapters available at this alternate site:<br /><a href="https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction">https:/<span style="font-size: large;">/</span>sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction </a></span></b></span></b></b></b></div>
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<div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #990000; font-size: medium;"><b>Chapter One: THE WHITE CLAWS</b><i style="color: #444444;"><br /><b>New York City, December 1948</b></i></span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick Brant and his friend Don Scott walked down
bustling Fifth Avenue in New York City. It was a gray overcast Friday
afternoon in mid-December and the boys were on vacation from Whiteside
High for the holidays. The jostling crowds of Christmas shoppers, the
Salvation Army Santas clanging their bells at the store entrances, and
the hawkers of every type offering their wares on the street corners all
added to the festive holiday spirit boldly announced by the colorful
decorations on storefronts and lampposts.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick smiled broadly as
he looked around. "There's nothing quite like Fifth Avenue at Christmas
time, Scotty," he said, using his friend's nickname. "It sure can get
you in the holiday spirit."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty, a husky
dark-haired boy who was a year older and a few inches taller than the
slimmer brown-haired Rick, nodded in agreement. "We're in the holiday
spirit, all right." He looked down at the shopping bags they were
carrying, both of them filled with gifts. "All we have to do is buy
something for Barby and we'll be finished with our Christmas shopping."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Barby was Rick's
sister, a pretty blonde a year younger than him. Scotty had taken a
special liking to her since having come to live with the Brant family at
their big house on Spindrift Island off the New Jersey coast, not far
from New York City.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"We have to get her
something special. Something relating to polar bears," Rick said as they
walked past Saks Fifth Avenue department store. The boys both craned
their necks to look over the heads of the crowd at the elegant holiday
window displays.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"I know of a taxidermy
shop on 46th Street near Times Square," Scotty told him. "There's a pawn
shop next door where I used to pawn things when I needed money before I
joined the Marines."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick didn't know much
about Scotty's life before he had come to live with him and his family
after his stint with the Marines in the war was over. Scotty seldom
talked about it. "Sounds good," Rick said. "They might have a polar bear
tooth, or something like that. Let's go to Rockefeller Center to see
the ice skaters and the big Christmas tree, then we'll go over to Times
Square."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty agreed and the
boys crossed the avenue at 50th Street by St. Patrick's Cathedral,
moving along with the teeming crowds. Rick was especially proud of Barby
right now. Through her very own ingenuity, he and Scotty were poised on
the brink of what promised to be an exciting adventure. Rick tensed the
muscles of his upper left arm, and he could feel the snug-fitting band
he wore wrapped around it that he and Scotty had dubbed 'The Barby Bear
Tracker'. He grinned as a couple of the holiday shoppers jostled him and
Scotty.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Hold onto those bags," Scotty remarked. "We sure don't want to lose our gifts."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"No way," Rick replied.
"Especially with the extra tracker collar in this bag I'm carrying.
Isn't it great to know that Barby is back home tracking us here in New
York City?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"It's super," Scotty agreed. "We should call her by telephone and see how it's working."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Great idea! We can call her on the way over to Times Square."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The boys knew that
right now Barby was sitting at the desk in Rick's bedroom tracking them
on the base station radio unit. The entire bear tracking collar
invention had been her idea. Barby had written a paper for school last
term about the polar bears up north on Hudson Bay in Canada. While doing
her research, she discovered that the Canadian Wildlife Service was
trying to put together a tracking collar system for the bears so that
the biologists could keep tabs on them to study their lives and habits.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Because of his talent
in electronic science, Barby had suggested to Rick that he try to design
a bear tracking collar system. He took up the challenge and within
several weeks had a working model. With the help of his father, Hartson
W. Brant, the world famous scientist, and the other electronic
scientists at the Spindrift Laboratories on Spindrift Island, Rick soon
had a base unit put together that could track the collars using radio
waves and geodetic coordinates.<br /><br />Then came the really exciting
part. Through connections of Rick's dad and the Spindrift labs, Rick was
invited by the Canadian Wildlife Service to take his tracking system up
to Hudson Bay and try it out on the polar bears. If it worked and the
service wanted it, the Spindrift Laboratories would produce the system
and Rick would receive a royalty for having conceived and created it.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Of course, Scotty was
to accompany Rick to Canada, and the boys were scheduled to leave for
the Manitoba coast of Hudson Bay on the following day. The plan, if all
went well, was to stay a few days in the Churchill area testing out the
system and then return home to arrive the day before Christmas. Chahda ,
the Hindu boy they had recently met in India while on their way to
Tibet, was going to be home from his boarding school in Massachusetts
for the holidays, and they were looking forward to seeing him. He had
become another adopted member of the family. Even though both Rick and
Scotty were excited at the prospect of going to the far North in the
dead of winter, they wouldn't dream of missing Christmas on Spindrift
Island for anything.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Soon the boys had
reached the lower plaza, the world famous open court surrounded by the
towering skyscrapers of Rockefeller Center. They wormed their way
through the crowds to the ice rink where dozens of skaters were spinning
around in carefree abandon beneath the golden statue of Prometheus and
the tall beautifully decorated Christmas tree above it.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"That's the tallest Christmas tree in the world," Rick said, gazing up at its heights. "Wow, what a job to decorate it, huh?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty didn't respond and Rick looked over to see a very pensive and sober look on his friend's face.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty sighed. "I used
to come here every Christmas season when I was younger. Usually alone.
I'd stroll over here to see the tree and watch the skaters."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick looked at him, feeling uncomfortable and not knowing what to say.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty smiled a sheepish grin. "I guess I'll tell you about those days ..... someday."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick clapped him on the
back and squeezed his shoulder. "Hey, anytime you want to." Knowing it
wasn't polite to pry, Rick looked back to the ice rink and added, "This
is one of the most popular New York holiday traditions. Lots of people
from all over the world come here to see the ice skaters and the
Christmas tree."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty looked up to the
tops of the powerful skyscrapers surrounding them. "Whew! How did they
construct these buildings? Darn if it doesn't make you wonder. Manhattan
is one heck of a place. Sure beats that lost city back in Tibet,
doesn't it?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick nodded in
agreement. Scotty was referring to the adventure they'd had earlier in
the year when they discovered THE LOST CITY of the Mongols in the Valley
of the Golden Tomb in Tibet, and relayed a radio message from there to
Spindrift Island via the moon.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Good thing Barby gave
us those fireworks for the Fourth of July," Rick said. "They sure helped
to scare off the Mongols and save the day. We were lucky to get out of
there alive."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty smirked. "We'll
be lucky to get out of this place alive, too. But if we don't make it,
at least Barby will know where we are."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The crush of the crowd
had grown to annoying proportions, and they really did need to move on
and finish their shopping so they could get home to Spindrift Island in
time for supper. The boys had flown to Newark Airport in Rick's yellow
Piper Cub airplane. There they had rented a late model coupe and driven
into the city. They had parked the car at the Plaza Hotel near Central
Park.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Then let's scram," Rick suggested. "We'll stop and call Barby, then go to the taxidermy shop."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty agreed and they
literally had to push their way out of the crowded plaza. Both of them
being young and strong and athletic, they had to be careful not to knock
anyone down.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Sort of like holiday-shopping football, isn't it?" Scotty commented with a laugh. "Look at all these people!"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick chuckled too. "But I bet I'm the only one here wearing a bear tracking collar!"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"The only one in all of Manhattan," Scotty corrected. "You truly are one-in-a-million, young man!"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The boys walked over to
Seventh Avenue and then down to 46th Street in the heart of the theater
district. They stopped at a telephone booth on the corner where
Broadway intersected, and Rick stepped inside to place a call to
Spindrift Island.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Barby let out a squeal
when she heard his voice. "Rick! I'm tracking you perfectly! This system
is a huge success. Right now the co-ordinates tell me you are smack in
midtown Manhattan. Looks like, um, Times Square......?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"We're right on the
uptown edge of it," Rick said, excited at the exactness of the tracking
system. "Are you picking up the signal loud and clear?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Clear as a bell, Rick."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"That's amazing, considering the crowds and these tall buildings."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Barby chuckled. "The
relay antennas Dad got them to put on the Chrysler Building and the
lighthouse at Sandy Hook really do the job! And those new-fangled things
you scientists call 'transistors' really fire up the transmitters on
those collars."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick's eyes crinkled
with a big grin. "You bet they do. I just knew the Spindrift labs were
right on track with dreaming those up. When they become readily
available in the near future, why .... they'll revolutionize radio!"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Barby always knew Rick
was one hundred percent right. "Wowsville! Just wait till you guys get
up to Hudson Bay. You'll be able to track the polar bears all the way to
the North Pole."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty leaned into the
booth and shouted in the phone. "We're almost done shopping, Barby. Just
have to get a gift for you and then we're on our way home."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"We'll get you
something really special," Rick added. "The tracking system was your
idea, and you deserve something out of the ordinary."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Barby wished them luck. "I'll track you on the way home," she added. "Have a good flight from Newark!"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick hung up the phone
and he and Scotty crossed Broadway at the intersection famous for being
one of the busiest in the world. Lugging the shopping bags, they hurried
down West 46th Street.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"That's the pawn shop." Scotty pointed ahead as they approached. "And next door is the taxidermist."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick looked at the pawn
shop as they passed and he couldn't imagine Scotty having to go there
to trade items for cash. He was glad his friend now lived with him, had a
good job and school to attend, a family, and a roof over his head.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The taxidermy shop was
far more interesting. The sign above the door read MORRY'S WILD
ADVENTURE, and the windows on each side were filled with animals of
every kind, from small squirrels and chipmunks to the large heads of
deer and moose.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Looks like my kind of place," Rick said as Scotty pulled open the door, setting off a little bell to tinkling.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Entering the store was
indeed like walking into a wild adventure. Animals of every size and
shape filled the crowded establishment, every one of them frozen forever
in a dramatic pose. There were jungle beasts from Africa, India, and
South America, predators from the mountains, forests, and deserts of
North America, and critters familiar to everyone from their own
backyards.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Wow," Rick breathed,
impressed as he looked at antlered heads, skins, and pelts hanging on
the walls. "I sure could spend a fortune in this place."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty's eyes darted
from one beautiful trophy to the next. "They're all pretty incredible. I
guess people actually buy these animals and pelts and display them in
their homes."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick rolled his eyes
and chuckled. "Could you imagine Mom's surprise if we brought her home a
tiger?" He pointed to a white one with black stripes that was almost as
big as Scotty. It was hunched down and ready to spring at an imaginary
victim.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty grinned. "I
think she'd throw us out if we brought something like that home. I've
heard of white tigers, but I never saw one before."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"They are very rare,
indeed," said a voice behind them. "That one is an especially excellent
specimen. And a good buy, too, at only five hundred dollars."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The boys swung around
to see a short elderly man with graying hair and a close-cropped beard.
His sharp-featured face held a friendly expectant smile and his
inquisitive eyes darted up and down as he assessed the boys as
prospective customers.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Five hundred!" Scotty exclaimed. "Jeez, who would buy it at a price like that, and what would they do with it?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The man smiled in
amusement, giving the boys a somewhat condescending look. Scotty's
remark had let him know they weren't going to be big spenders. "The
usual buyer for a trophy of that quality is an uptown executive, and
it'd most probably be placed in his library or den where it can readily
be admired from a favorite easy chair. It might even find its way out to
a Connecticut or Long Island estate."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick's brows furrowed.
"Well, it's definitely not going out to the New Jersey estate where we
live. My mom would bop me one, even if I could afford it. What we're
interested in is polar bears. Not a whole one, mind you. Something
small. A pelt, a claw, maybe a tooth?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The man introduced
himself as Morry Patterson, the owner of the shop, then crooked his
finger. "You're in luck. I recently got a shipment of polar bear items
from an associate up north."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick and Scotty
followed him around to the next aisle where an elephant head competed
with a huge gorilla for attention, next to them two striking wolves, one
white and one black. Across from the wolves was a polar bear cub on all
fours with several fluffy white pelts piled high next to it. Beside
them was a massive full-grown male polar bear that looked more than ten
feet tall. It was standing on its hind legs, its front paws raking the
air with long black claws extended.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Man, would you look at that beast?" Scotty exclaimed. "Big fellow, isn't he?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick nodded with wide eyes. "I sure wouldn't want to run into him on an ice floe."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"A prize specimen, to
be sure," Morry said proudly, patting the big bear affectionately. "But
the price on this fellow is one thousand dollars. I don't think you boys
are interested in spending that much, eh? What price range are you
looking for?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick shrugged. "Around
fifty dollars or so, I suppose. We need a Christmas gift for my sister,
something for a girl. She has a keen interest in polar bears."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Morry's eyes lit up and
he grinned shrewdly. "I might have just the item you seek, although I
don't know if I can go that low on it. Come on over to the showcase."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>He led the way to a
glass showcase in the back of the shop where he had his cash register
and other office items. He stepped around behind as the boys looked at
the articles within. There were feathers of every color and hue, some
made into headdresses, pins, and other decorous items. Snake skins,
small birds, and rabbit feet on gold chains were set on the
velvet-covered shelves along with an array of jewelry made from the
animal hides and parts.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"This is great stuff," Rick said admiringly. "I didn't know taxidermy extended to items like these."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Its main popularity is
with interior decor, but jewelry and accessories are a close second."
The shopkeeper pulled a box out of the showcase and placed it on the
glass top. The boys' jaws both dropped at the sight of what lay within
it. It was a necklace on an ornate silver chain featuring five long
gently curved white claws connected an eighth of an inch apart by silver
caps and links.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"It's beautiful," Rick said, immediately liking the piece.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"And the perfect gift for Barby," Scotty added, his eyes wide with admiration.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Suddenly Rick's brows
knitted in thought. He looked down the aisle at the huge white polar
bear, then back to the necklace. "Are these polar bear claws?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Morry nodded. "You bet they are. And rare ones, too."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"But they're white," Rick said. "Polar bear claws are black, aren't they?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The older man grinned.
"Indeed they are, almost always. But these claws are from a black polar
bear. Blacks are extremely rare and almost never seen. Some experts
believe they are only the stuff of old Indian and Eskimo legends. They
are like a reverse albino specimen, an oddity, and they have white
claws."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The boys looked at him dubiously. "Are you serious?" Rick asked. "<i>Black</i> polar bears?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Serious as can be."
Morry turned and pulled a manilla folder off a shelf behind him. He
flopped it on the counter, opened it, and began rifling through a bunch
of eight-by-ten hunting photographs.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Here." He placed one
of the photographs on the counter so the boys could see it. It was a
winter scene on a frozen treeless tundra. A parka-clad hunter stood on
each side of a huge black bear spread out on its stomach to show its
enormous size. It looked like a polar bear, but it was black.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"They're probably
one-in-a-million," Morry went on. "Or even more rare than that. This is a
photo of the only known one ever to be taken whole, several years ago
up in Manitoba. The claws on this necklace came from one that had been
killed in a fight with another bear. Its carcass had mostly been
devoured by scavengers when the hunters found it, but they were able to
salvage some of it."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick and Scotty
exchanged glances. They knew that many animal species were known to
produce strange oddities now and then. It would only make sense that the
same would apply to polar bears. Rick wondered if Barby had come across
this information in her recent study of the polar bears, and he made a
mental note to ask her about it.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"This is really a very special item then," he said, looking at the necklace again. "And that's what we want. What's the price?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"One hundred dollars."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick and Scotty both groaned.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"We just can't afford that," Rick said. "Although I'm sure the necklace is worth every penny of it."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty made a fist and pounded it lightly on the showcase top. "But we have to get this for Barby!"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Morry Patterson lifted
an eyebrow. "Is it so important to get her a polar bear item? I have
plenty of other things appropriate for a young lady."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick nodded. He briefly
told the man about Barby's idea for the tracking system, how he had
actually turned it into a reality, and that he and Scotty would soon be
bound for Hudson Bay to test it out. "So you see, we just have to get
her something like this," he added.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The shopkeeper stood
back and looked the boys over. "That's quite an impressive tale. It just
so happens that I get most of my polar bear items from the Churchill
area. I'd heard from my contacts up that way that the Canadian Wildlife
Service has been testing ways and means of tracking the bears."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Rick is wearing one of
the collars," Scotty told the man. "And we have another in one of these
shopping bags. Barby's at home tracking us right now. Show him the
collar, Rick."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick usually didn't
like to flaunt his inventions, but he could see no harm in showing the
collar to the man. He withdrew his left arm from its jacket sleeve and
showed Morry the brown leather collar coiled tightly around his upper
arm. In its center was a round metal casing which held the electronic
tracking device.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Morry stroked his beard and looked dubious. "And it really works?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty nodded eagerly.
"It sure does. We called Barby a few minutes ago and she knew exactly
where we were. In Times Square. Through connections of Rick's dad, we
got test relay antennas put up on the Chrysler Building and the old
lighthouse at Sandy Hook, in the state park in New Jersey. They are
picking up the signal, amplifying it, and sending it back to the base
unit at home perfectly."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Hmmm." Scratching his
chin, the elderly man pressed his lips together and his eyes narrowed.
"And you have another in one of those shopping bags?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick nodded, pulling
his jacket sleeve back up into place. "It's not activated, but we
brought it along as a spare, just in case. They're really pretty simple
devices that most anyone with a knowledge of radio electronics could
understand."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The shop owner
chuckled. "Nothing electronic seems simple to me. But it sure looks like
you got a winner there, and your little gal who came up with the idea
does indeed deserve this necklace as a reward."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Can you come down on the price?" Rick asked eagerly.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Tell you what I'll do.
This item is for sale on consignment. In other words, it belongs to
another party and I get a commission for selling it. I sell a lot of
items in that manner. I can call the owner at his office, and if he's
willing to come down to what you can afford, it's yours."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick and Scotty exchanged hopeful glances. "We'd really appreciate your doing that, Mr. Patterson," Rick told him.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Let me go in the back
and make the call," said the man. "It might take a few minutes, so just
hold on and I'll be back shortly."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>He put the lid on the
box with the necklace and took it with him, pulling aside a curtain
which hung in the doorway leading to another room in the back of the
shop. He was soon lost to sight and the boys could hear him dialing a
telephone.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Man, if we can get it for fifty bucks, that'd be half price," Scotty said in a low voice. "A real bargain, huh?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"He'll probably want
seventy-five," Rick said with a grin, expecting that this was just a
set-up for bartering. "We'll have to offer sixty in that case. That's
the absolute highest we can go."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty nodded sagely
and they listened to the murmur of Morry's voice as they awaited his
return. Soon enough, they heard the click of the phone being hung up and
the curtain was thrust aside. The man walked out smiling.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"You fellows are in
luck," he said, placing the box back on the counter. "The owner says you
can have it for fifty dollars. He can use the money for some hunting
gear. Believe me, you're getting a really good deal."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick and Scotty looked
at each other with surprised glances, then eagerly sprang for their
wallets. They hadn't expected such good news.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Thanks, Mr. Patterson," Scotty beamed. "You really caught us a break."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>They paid him for the
necklace and the man removed the box lid so they could see it again.
Then he wrapped the box in a heavy protective paper. "Did you boys drive
in from New Jersey?" he asked, as he placed the wrapped box in a paper
bag.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"We rented a coupe at
Newark Airport and drove in from there," Rick told him. "We parked the
car uptown at the Plaza Hotel. And we'd better hurry and get going. It's
a long drive back to Newark in the afternoon traffic."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The shop owner handed
the bag to Rick. "Good luck to both of you on your trip to the far north
country. You're sure to see polar bears at Churchill. They often wander
right into the town."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty chuckled as they turned to leave. "Who knows, we might even see a <i>black</i> one, if we're lucky." </b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick placed the bag
with the necklace into the shopping bag he was carrying, and he and
Scotty, after once more thanking the man for his kindness, hurried
outside. Light snow was falling and it seemed even colder than before.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"We'd better get a taxi," Rick suggested, not relishing the idea of a walk uptown in the snow.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty agreed, and they
hailed a taxi and were soon flying across town and then up Fifth Avenue
toward Central Park. The traffic was heavy, but it still seemed like
they were caught up in a speed race on the avenue with the other
motorists. The boys were laughing when they got out of the taxi in front
of the Plaza Hotel.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Next time we get the
notion to go to far-off strange lands for excitement," Scotty jibed, "we
can just come to New York and take a taxi ride instead!"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>It was almost the same
when they retrieved their rented coupe from the hotel garage and Rick
began to drive back toward midtown. It was impossible not to get caught
up in the rushing flow of the traffic and drive a little faster than
normal, but Rick knew he'd never be able to drive in the city with the
devil-may-care panache of a New York cabbie.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>He drove down through
the Lincoln Tunnel across to New Jersey and followed the route through
Union City. He and Scotty eagerly discussed their upcoming trip along
the way, making last minute plans about gear and equipment. The radio
equipment, antennas, and collars had already been sent to Churchill, but
they were taking along a complete system with them, just in case.
They'd learned from their trip to Tibet that the unforeseen could
happen, and often did. Even so, they had no real fear that any kind of
trouble could befall them in a country so civilized and cultured as
Canada.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick had driven to the
outskirts of Union City and the coupe now sped down the highway to
Newark in the wetlands near the Hackensack River. There wasn't much
traffic at all on this stretch, only their coupe and a long black sedan
not too far behind. The skies were miserably bleak and snow was falling
lightly. Scotty had become unusually quiet since they'd come into the
swampy area.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"What's up?" Rick asked, wondering why Scotty had gone quiet.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"That big sedan in back. It's tailing us."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick looked in the
rearview mirror at the expensive-looking auto. He had noticed it a few
minutes ago but had no idea how long it had been behind them.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"It's been behind us
since we left the Plaza Hotel," Scotty said when Rick voiced the
question. "All the way down to midtown, through the tunnel and Union
City, and it's still right behind us now."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Why didn't you say something?" Rick asked, frowning.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Scotty shrugged his
broad shoulders. "I thought maybe I was imagining it, or maybe they're
just going the same way. Why would anyone want to tail us?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Suddenly, as they
approached an especially lonely stretch of the remote pike, the big
sedan sped up and closed in on them. Rick grunted. "Why would anyone
want to tail us, indeed! Who knows? But no doubt they are!"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>He slammed the
accelerator to the floor and sped up, but the big car followed suit and
stayed within a few yards of them. In the mirrors, Rick could see two
men in the front seat with hats pulled down low over their foreheads.
"Two guys in the front," he told Scotty. "Maybe more in the back. What
the heck is going on?"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Trouble," Scotty quickly returned, his fists clenched. "That's what. Try turning off down this side road."</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>They were closing in on
an unpaved road that led toward the river. Rick made a sudden turn and
the flashy coupe careened off the pike and sped down the dirt track. The
big sedan followed, almost tipping over as it made the hairpin turn on
two wheels.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Then, suddenly, the air was full of the unmistakable ping-ping of gunfire!</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Talk about highway robbery!" Scotty muttered angrily, hunkering down in the seat. "Those guys are shooting at us!"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rick slammed down the
accelerator again, giving the lighter-weight coupe all it had. It roared
along the bouncy road, jostling him and Scotty. He gritted his teeth.
"Looks like we're not going to get back to Spindrift Island as planned!"</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><i><b>Ping! Ping! Ping!</b></i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Just then, a bullet hit
one of the coupe's back tires and the resulting blowout threw the car
wildly out of control. The steering wheel flailed round and round, back
and forth, as the coupe twisted and turned, and Rick could not keep hold
of it.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"Watch out!" Scotty yelled as the coupe fishtailed directly at a huge old tree on the verge of the swampy shoreline.</b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Both boys tried to grab
hold of the spinning steering wheel, but it was impossible to get the
car back in control. The next moment brought a resounding crash as the
coupe side-swiped the tree and seemed to spin around it as both Rick and
Scotty were flung mightily out of the popped-open passenger door!</b></span></div>
<div>
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stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-71088619371444391932013-01-10T19:49:00.000-08:002013-01-10T19:58:17.366-08:00RICK BRANT GOLDEN DRAGON 12<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
RICK BRANT GOLDEN DRAGON 12
</h3>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size: large;">All
chapters through chapter 12 are now available on this alternate site:</span><a href="https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction/dragon"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;">THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN DRAGON
https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction/dragon</span></span></a></span></div>
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<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b style="color: red;">THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN DRAGON<br />or <i style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;">The South Seas City of Death Mystery</span></i><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Chapter Twelve: THE WATERFALLS OF EDEN</span></b></span><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">"No, no ... they probably weren't all Americans," Jimmy said, his voice low and husky, as the boys stood there momentarily in frightened awe, gaping at the hundreds upon hundreds of skeletons. "Many of them were probably other Allied Troops, too - Australians, New Zealanders, British, even some innocent civilians."</span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br />"You're right," Rick hissed. "And they all died here, and were left here ... "<br /><br />"Move on!" Scotty interrupted from behind, grabbing Butubu by the hand and surging forward. There were shouts and gunfire coming from the cavern behind them.<br /><br />Butubu started crying out and holding back. He didn't want to go on past the all the remains of the dead men, but Scotty pulled him on resolutely. "Come on! We gotta get going! Those guys aren't far behind us!"<br /><br />Rick jerked into action and grabbed Chtupa, who was frozen with fear, and half carried him forward.<br /><br />"They won't hurt you," he gruffed, as if the boys could understand. He felt a pang in his breast and he gulped, gesturing toward the skeletons. "They're just dead men who sacrificed their lives so that we can live free. Oh man, God bless them! Tell the boys, Jimmy!"<br /><br />Jimmy translated while they huddled hurriedly down a narrow path between the rows of hanging skeletons and the piles along the sides. In the lantern glow and with the flashlight beams darting here and there, it was a veritable chamber of horrors. Long leg bones knocked their shoulders as they tried to squeeze in between. The skeletons rattled. A few loosened and fell down, one right on top of Butubu, which caused the boy to scream in terror.<br /><br />Rick pulled the skeleton off him, wondering who this dead man was, where he had come from, who he had left behind wherever his home may have been. He cast it aside as Scotty pulled the native boy along. Rick listened to the rattle of the skeleton's bones as it fell. His teeth gritted and he shuddered, overcome with emotion.<br /><br />"A torture chamber!" Scotty rasped out. "Or ... worse!" He raised the lantern so they could see a huge pile of skulls.<br /><br />Skulls with no bodies!<br /><br />"Those guys! They beheaded them! "Jimmy huffed as they rushed by.<br /><br />Rick, his hands full with Chtupa and the rifle and flashlight, nudged Scotty in the side. "I'm so totally glad you made it back home after the war, pal. I'd hate to think of you rotted away in some long lost and forgotten chamber like this on one of these crazy islands."<br /><br />Scotty ducked to avoid the dangling feet of a skeleton. "And the worst part, Rick, these guys are all the guy next door, the average Joe. Just like me!"<br /><br />Jimmy let out a strangled laugh at that. "Oho! Scotty, you are the farthest thing in this world from the average Joe. There ain't nobody nowhere who has a guy like you living next door!" He paused momentarily, then, "Except for Rick, that is."<br /><br />Rick exploded in nervous laughter. "No, Jimmy, not next door. He lives in the <i>same house</i>. Oh, lucky me!"<br /><br />Scotty had no time to fling out the retort that was on the tip of his tongue. The cave of horrors had come to an end and now led into a smaller narrow one. He caromed right into it pulling Butubu, then thrust the boy ahead to guide with the lantern. They began to run down the flat ash-like surface of the cave with the other boys behind them.<br /><br />"Whew! That was gruesome!" Rick exhaled forcefully, just now realizing that he'd been holding his breath. He let Chtupa run up ahead with the other native boy to light up the way. "I wonder what's up ahead. We gotta get out of these caves and back to the jeep!"<br /><br />"You're tellin' me?" Jimmy grunted from behind. "Those tong guys should be running into the skeletons about now. They're right behind us!"<br /><br />Scotty suddenly let out a shout. "Ho! I think we made it!"<br /><br />Then he and the native boys vanished around a turn with the lanterns, followed close behind by Rick and Jimmy who quickly saw it was an entrance to another cave, a big one, with a rail track running down its middle. Up ahead they could see an empty utility trolley car. Chtupa and Butubu had instantly started shouting up a verbal storm as they all ran over to the rail car.<br /><br />"This is where the old Chinese man took them for a ride. Other caves must connect to this one too." Jimmy explained. He paused to take a breath, then, "The trolley goes with a little push and then there's a hill ahead that leads down to an old bunker that goes outside. They rode down the other day in another car."<br /><br />"Fantastic!" Rick spoke crisply, steel in his voice. "Jimmy, throw those kids into that car and jump in yourself. Scotty and I will push till we get it going."<br /><br />"Aye, aye, suh!"<br /><br />They reached the lone car in seconds and Jimmy placed the guns and lights inside it and tossed the native boys in as if they were bags of potatoes. Rick and Scotty kept watch behind as Jimmy climbed in, then they shouldered the back of the car and pushed with all their might.<br /><br />"Whoa!" Rick cried out, almost falling. The car had moved so easily he lost his balance. "This thing sure goes swell!"<br /><br />"Jump in, Rick. I'll push," Scotty told him. "This thing is as well-oiled as the roller coaster at Palisades Park! The old madman must have used it regularly."<br /><br />Rick heaved himself in, crowding the interior, and not a moment too soon. Shouts and gunfire erupted behind them as the men in pursuit of them ran out into the cave.<br /><br />Scotty pushed the car on like a human bulldozer.<br /><br /><i>Ping! Ping! Ping!</i><br /><br />The gunfire echoed in the cave and Rick pulled his rifle and shot back, aiming high, reminding the enemy that he and his friends were armed and dangerous too.<br /><br />"Everybody duck!" he commanded. "Scotty, the car is starting to roll down the grade. Get in here!"<br /><br /><i>Ping! Ping! Ping!</i><br /><br />Scotty ran behind the car, pushing with all his might. "Just around that bend up ahead!"<br /><br />Rick's heart was knocking in his ears as he and Jimmy, too, let go a few more bullets. <br /><br />"Get in here, man!" he shouted at Scotty. "They'll hit you!"<br /><br />"Okay! Okay!"<br /><br /><i>Ping! Ping! Ping!</i><br /><br />As the rail car swept around the bend, Scotty heaved himself in and landed with a thump on his head and shoulders, his feet sticking up in the air. The grade quickly grew steeper and the car roared down the tracks, the lanterns lighting up the tunnel in swift moving wavering spotlights along the rugged stone walls. Scotty twisted himself into an upright position and the others all had a good laugh at his expense as the car whizzed through the cave.<br /><br />"You big klutz!" Jimmy gloated. "So that's how an American jumps into a moving car, eh?"<br /><br />Scotty threatened him with a flashlight. "Don't start on me, Jimmy <i>Tomato</i>!"<br /><br />"Tomato, potato, banana-ramma-damma," the New Guinea boy laughed. "You can call me anything you want, Mr. Scott. You just saved the day with that big running heave-ho and now those tong bazookas can't get us!"<br /><br />They were all slapping Scotty on his back and pounding his shoulders as the car swerved around another bend, then roared down a bumpy straightaway. Butubu squinted his eyes to look forward, then let out a shout and pointed ahead.<br /><br />The others looked in that direction and saw a square of daylight down the grade at the bunker entrance ahead, which had just come into view. It was the end of the tunnel and the rail car was quickly approaching it. A big concrete block sat there at the tracks' end threatening to greet them.<br /><br />"The brake!" Rick shouted. "There's gotta be a brake!"<br /><br />Chtupa jumped over and grabbed an iron bar in the car's front and began slamming himself into it as he cried out excited exclamations, all to no avail as the car did not slow down in the least.<br /><br />"You'll never do it, pipsqueak!" Jimmy fretted, pushing the youngster aside and slamming his considerable bulk against the braking device.<br /><br />The wheels began to lock and they screeched like wild jackals. Jimmy had to fight the brake to keep it engaged and working. <br /><br />"Sure you don't need me to help?" Scotty asked smugly,<br /><br />Jimmy made a face at him. "I'm sure it was you and you alone, Scotty, who stopped the entire Japanese empire here in the Pacific," he shouted as he struggled. "But I think I can manage to stop this trolley cart on my own!"<br /><br />But even with all his strength bearing on the brake, the car banged into the concrete pier with a resounding thud, jarring the riders. It wasn't enough to daunt them in the least, however, and they grabbed the rifles and flashlights and lanterns and jumped out. They still had to hustle. The tong members were up the cave behind them a ways and they had no time to lose. They ran toward the daylight, out the bunker entrance into the suffocating heat and humidity and endless tangle of jungle foliage and vines.<br /><br />Chtupa gesticulated wildly to their right and burst forth with a volley of clucking syllables.<br /><br />"The cave with the jeep is right down there," Jimmy said, pointing in that same direction. He jerked his chin the other way. "But the boys have to run home in that direction, back around the mountain."<br /><br />"Scoot! Scoot! Go home!" Rick told the young boys, gesturing with his hands. He gave them a big smile. "Me laikam dis fellas lots much!"<br /><br />He thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out some bills, change from the Chinese food purchase earlier, and gave them to the older of the two boys. "Thankee, thankee, kiddos! Lotsa moolah!"<br /><br />The boys cackled and grinned and, the older one stuffing the bills into his pants pocket, they slapped Rick's hands in gestures of farewell. They did the same to Jimmy and Scotty, then threw a last glance at the bunker entrance and turned and fled into the jungle.<br /><br />"You gave them almost ten American dollars," Jimmy said, as they began to run through the jungle growth laden down with the equipment. "That's pretty much a real fortune to these native mountain people."<br /><br />"They deserve it. They really helped us out," Rick told him. "We would have never found our way to the old madman's cell on our own."<br /><br />"Right," Scotty agreed. "But I bet they'll think twice about going back into those caves after this."<br /><br />"Nah, probably not." Jimmy dodged some low swinging vines and pushed them aside for Rick. "They're just boys. They'll want to show off. Within a few days they'll be taking all the other village kids into that skeleton cave."<br /><br />"Yeah, but you can be sure they'll stay out of that flying fox cave," Rick chuckled. "Hey, here we are already!"<br /><br />They had quickly arrived at the cave in which they'd parked the jeep, and they rushed right into it. Scotty jumped in behind the wheel with Jimmy climbing in next to him in the shotgun seat. Rick climbed in the back, stashing all the equipment in a haphazard pile. <br /><br />Scotty fired the motor and the jeep jolted out into the undergrowth with a roar and a jump. Rick had squirmed into a shooting position with one of the rifles, and not a moment too soon. As soon as the jeep was out of the cave, shouts and gunfire assailed them from the direction they'd just come.<br /><br /><i>Ping! Ping! Ping!</i><br /><br />Scotty swerved in and out of the trees as Rick fired back at what appeared to be ten or twelve Oriental young men running toward them.<br /><br />"Man, get us out of here!"<br /><br />Rick threw the command at Scotty and then twisted back to fire once again. Gunfire rang back and forth and, after yet another exchange, the jungle fell back and the jeep roared out into the clearing on Coastwatchers Hill. Rick kept a wary eye on the edge of the bush and eager fingers on the trigger as the vehicle flew across the field overlooking the volcanoes and harbor.<br /><br />They passed two old jeep-like vehicles and a beat-up military pickup truck parked near the anti-aircraft guns, obviously the means by which the tong members had come up the hill. A moment later, Scotty shot out onto the dirt road leading back down to Rabaul, just as the tong men rushed out of the jungle shouting and shooting.<br /><br />Rick didn't bother to fire back. He could no longer see the men clearly. "You'd better make this old war horse fly," he shouted to Scotty. "They'll be in their jeeps and truck in a minute and on our tail!"<br /><br />"Dis fella flyam jeep like Pocka flyam plane!" Scotty laughed back, expertly guiding the bouncing jeep down the bumpy road.<br /><br />Jimmy guffawed. "Not bad Pidgin for a New Jersey boy!"<br /><br />Scotty grunted. "Pretty soon I'm gonna start <i>thinking</i> in it!"<br /><br />Rick extinguished the lanterns and tried to put some order to the tossed-in equipment as they roared down the hill. Scotty flew around the bends of the switchbacks, at times seemingly on two wheels. Rick held his breath on one such bend and pictured the jeep flipping over and tossing the three of them into Vulcan's smoking pit across the way.<br /><br />It seemed they would never get down to the main road again! The tong members had to be right behind them, although Rick could see no sign of them. He sat on the edge of the seat, leaning between Scotty and Jimmy, the hot air rushing in their faces.<br /><br />"This is taking forever!" he burst out.<br /><br />Jimmy cast a glance behind them. "Just a couple more minutes. We'll make it. They can't catch up. Those vehicles they have didn't look any better than this one!"<br /><br />He was right. They hadn't seen or heard a peep from the tong members by the time Scotty swerved wildly out onto the Kokopo road and headed west past the volcano, as Jimmy instructed. Here he really let the old jeep loose on the smoother road and gave it all it had as they sped on. They were soon a mile down the road past Vulcan and no one was visible behind them!<br /><br />Rick turned back front from checking it out and pounded both his friends on the shoulders.<br /><br />"All right! Looks like we made it, chums. Left those tong gooks in the dust again!"<br /><br />"Dust is right," Scotty laughed. "I never saw so much of it like what's flying behind!"<br /><br />"That's the ash from Vulcan's past eruptions," Jimmy told them, glancing back at the smoking mountain and the billowing cloud along their path on the road behind. "The top foot of this road is probably all ash. You know, Vulcan used to be an island, not a mountain. But during one of the eruptions years ago, the island blew its top, so much so that it became a mountain and a live volcano. And it still is!"<br /><br />Rick regarded the smoking giant behind them with a smirk. Who ever would have thought he and Scotty would have such an intimate adventure with a volcano?<br /><br />Soon they reached a fork in the road and Jimmy, who had been looking at the map, instructed Scotty to follow the right branch. Scotty slowed down to make the turn and the boys could see a signpost on the corner denoting the mileage to several locations.<br /><br />"Storms End!" Rick shouted triumphantly, seeing the destination listed. "Eighty-seven miles! That's not bad. We ought to get there in a couple hours."<br /><br />"If the tong guys don't catch up to us," Scotty muttered cautiously, as he floored the jeep ahead with all the strength in his powerful leg.<br /><br />Jimmy kept his eye on the road behind as they roared on ahead. "I think we beat them out again. That's really cool. The Ching Tu Tong is a really tough bunch of hoodlums!"<br /><br />"You're tellin' me?" Rick harrumphed, trying to sit back and enjoy the ride in the open air after the claustrophobic conditions of the caves. "And they may be holding my dad and Dr. Warren prisoner, and that Dr. Hyde-Morton from Australia too! We just gotta find them, fellas!"<br /><br />And on that sobering thought, the boys settled down for the long ride ahead to Storms End. The road soon began to ascend sharply as the hills rose up into even higher country. Jungle foliage was thick all around them and in many places crowding out onto the road. Giant old trees rose high into the sky, festooned with vines of all sizes and thickness. At times they formed a canopy overhead, almost completely blocking out the hot sun. But the resulting shade didn't make it any cooler. It was sticky hot and humid in the jungle, sweltering, and the odor of damp decay was heavy in the air. <br /><br />Scotty was continually downshifting into lower gears to climb the steep hills. then doing the same again to slow them on the way back down. Up and down they went on the road that grew continually bumpier and less maintained the farther they got from Rabaul. There was little traffic, just a truck here and there with a smiling native at the wheel and a gang of the same in the back on their way to one of the plantations. At times the jungle fell back on one side or the other as the jeep rode along ridges that offered views of rolling hills of jungle green under the clear blue South Pacific sky.<br /><br />It was indeed beautiful, but Rick knew it was a deadly country in a myriad of ways. The heat and humidity, the insects and the jungle creatures, and the primitive native peoples all spelled danger to the naive and uninitiated. Not to mention the Ching Tu tong on their trail!<br /><br />Presently they came to a high ridge that exposed a huge rolling valley surrounded by peaks that rose like fingers touching up to the blue. Scotty had to do some tricky shifting on the way down to keep the jeep from running away. <br /><br />"This is the Bwantowalla Valley," Jimmy told them, then pointed vaguely at the surrounding peaks. "Those are the <i>Finisterre</i> Mountains. Means 'the end of the world'." He handed Rick the map pointing out the location. "We're getting into the gold country now and may soon be seeing some signs of the mining activity."<br /><br />Scotty groaned at the mere thought of mining. Wiping his brow with the back of his hand, he said, "Who the heck would want to dig for gold in this country? It's too darn hot!"<br /><br />Rick was checking out the map. The big valley covered a huge area in the mountains of this northern section of the eastern end of New Britain. Rabaul was to the east of it and not far north was the blue of water, the Bismarck Straits, with the small town of Storms End on the coast almost straight above them. There didn't seem to be any other towns nearby, but Rick knew there had to be native villages. They'd been hearing the sound of beating drums at times, even above the roar of the jeep.<br /><br />The road flattened out on the valley floor and Rick soon realized they were riding through an absolute primeval paradise. The rocky cliffs of the tall peaks hovered above them with wispy, lacy waterfalls cascading down the heights in thin rushing plumes. The wide reaches now exposed all around them were festooned with swampy ponds and lower growth trees and shrubberies all laden with colorful flowers and blooms of all shapes and sizes. Multitudes of birds fluttered and swarmed from branch to pond and cried out in a cacophony of sound that mingled with the rush of waterfalls and the beating of the drums.<br /><br />"This is like the Garden of Eden," Rick declared, watching a flock of red and green parrots ascend from a reed-filled pond and fly off in unison. Then he chuckled. "If only it was twenty degrees cooler, it'd be perfect!"<br /><br />Jimmy rolled his eyes at Rick. "You guys are always complaining about the heat. I <i>love </i>it!"<br /><br />"You're half kanaka," Rick pointed out. "You were made for this intense heat. Come visit us in New Jersey this coming winter and see how you like the cold and snow."<br /><br />Scotty guffawed at that. "I don't think he'd like it one bit when it gets down in the teens and single digits!"<br /><br />Jimmy struck a thoughtful pose. "You know, I can't imagine what it's like. I have never experienced cold. Even down in Australia it's always pretty warm. In this part of the world you have to go up to Korea to find cold weather."<br /><br />Rick pointed out a rounded cliff high up ahead over which three slim plume-like waterfalls poured far down into the valley below. It looked like they'd meet and meld into one at the bottom, but he couldn't see because of the intervening foliage.<br /><br />"Look at those," he marveled, standing up and holding onto the back of the front seat to view them better. 'Now talk about a shower-bath! We could sure have a good one under those waterfalls."<br /><br />"Hey, great idea," Scotty agreed. "It'd sure be nice to clean up a little. Do you think it'd be safe, Jimmy?"<br /><br />Jimmy looked at the landscape around them. "Should be. There doesn't seem to be anything going on around here." He cocked an ear and listened, then added, "Just those drums. But you hear that all over New Guinea in the tribal areas."<br /><br />"Then let's do it," Rick decided, and he sat back down and began rummaging through his and Scotty's backpack for towels and soap.<br /><br />A couple minutes later Scotty pulled off the road onto a gravelly shoulder near a path that led into the jungle. The waterfalls were high up above and the spot they cascaded down into was somewhere ahead beyond the dense jungle growth. <br /><br />"Is it safe to leave the jeep here?" Rick asked of Jimmy.<br /><br />"I suppose so. There doesn't seem to be anyone around. Just take the keys, Scotty. It should be okay."<br /><br />Clutching bars of soap and with towels flung over their shoulders, the boys eagerly made their way down the path which followed a creek through the jungle. Because the valley was so swampy, the growth was not as high and thick and they were able to move along quickly toward the waterfalls. Everything around them was brilliant and dazzling in the relentless sun, but the breathless heat was stifling. Mosquitoes buzzed around them and reeds and high grasses tangled with the bush and vines. They had to be cautious not to step in dangerous mucky spots where they might sink in up to their ankles, or worse. Banks of mangroves grew along the creeks and ponds and Rick found himself searching amongst them with his eyes for any quick movement.<br /><br />"Any crocodiles here?" he asked Jimmy uneasily.<br /><br />"I don't know," was Jimmy's reply, along with a shrug of his shoulders. "We're in a valley but it's high up in the hills. The crocs may not come up to this high altitude." He smirked and went on. "But there are other dangers. Big snapping turtles, poisonous snakes, wild pigs, malarial mosquitoes, witch doctors, headhunters, cannibals ..."<br /><br />"We get the drift!" Scotty interrupted with a grunt. "In other words, we're just plum crazy to be here in the first place?"<br /><br />"You got it!" Jimmy laughed.<br /><br />At length the boys reached the area where the three waterfalls cascaded down into an elevated pool that trickled down step-like terraces of rock into the swampy wetlands. It looked to Rick like a scene right out of the story of Adam and Eve, beautiful and primeval, the epitome of paradise. The three plumes of water did indeed meet at the bottom where they splashed into the pool in front of the rocky facade, and a fine spray mist spread out beyond the edges toward them.<br /><br />"Yowza! Made to order!" Scotty enthused, plopping down on a flat rock to pull his shoes off. "Time to cool off!"<br /><br />"Don't get your expectations up," Jimmy warned as he pulled off his shirt. "The water is probably warm."<br /><br />Rick shrugged. "It sure looks inviting anyway, even if it's like a hot springs."<br /><br />The boys stripped down and left their clothes on the large flat rocks bordering the pool. They climbed the terraced steps and felt the water trickling down underfoot. It was warm, as Jimmy had predicted, but did feel a little cooler than the air temperature. The pool was crystal clear down to its deep rocky bottom and, in a flash, all three boys dove in, the call of the water compelling after the intense heat of the day.<br /><br />Rick swam down to the bottom and pushed himself back up from the rocky floor. He shot up out of the water right under the deluge of the waterfalls and their resulting spray. Cooler or not, it was exhilarating. He stayed there treading water and listening to the roar above and the splash all around, and he experienced a brief sensation of freedom from all the troubles that had been weighing on his mind since he had received the package from the mysterious schooner two nights ago.<br /><br />Scotty plopped up beside Rick, letting the torrent pour down upon him as he shook his head vigorously trying to see.<br /><br />"Ho, Rick! This is just what we needed. I'm lovin' it!"<br /><br />"No kidding. If we had waterfalls and a pond like this on Spindrift Island, I'd never bathe in the house!"<br /><br />Scotty guffawed and splashed at him, a useless gesture in the cascade from above. <br /><br />"You would in the winter, bud," he tossed back at him. "It's a little too cold for doing this in New Jersey in January!"<br /><br />Jimmy popped up between them and the boys cavorted and horsed around for a while, as boys do the world over in swimming holes, and then they got to work with the bars of soap to wash away the sweat and grime of their recent toil in the equatorial heat. Behind the falls was a wide ledge where they climbed up onto and were able to wash up and let the swirling mists shower the soap away.<br /><br />Later, relaxed and refreshed,they lay on the big flat rocks in the hot sun to dry off. The tangled greenery of the swampy jungle surrounded them and the triple falls spilled down from above. Crowned pigeons with stately headdresses and colorful parrots fluttered around, dipping down to the pool at times for sips of water. Blue and gold delicate butterflies whirred above them to hover over the sparkling waters.<br /><br />Rick gazed up to the top of the waterfalls. "How high do you guys think that cliff is?"<br /><br />"About the length of a football field," Scotty conjectured. "Around three hundred feet or so."<br /><br />"Some of these pools are sacred," Jimmy informed them. "The primitive natives believe that the water gods abide in them."<br /><br />Scotty chuckled at that. "We've just been swimming with the gods. That sure is swell!"<br /><br />"The people have mostly been converted by the missionaries," Jimmy went on. "Granny Sal worked with them for many years. But the old religions are still practiced in some tribal areas, mostly in secret but sometimes blatantly out in the open. And everything has a god or a spirit to it - a tree, a rock, an animal, a man - everything!"<br /><br />"That's a lot of gods to remember," Rick reflected.<br /><br />"It sure is," Jimmy agreed. "And they all must be appeased all the time. The witch doctor is always very busy making sure all the gods are happy."<br /><br />"We could us a good witch doctor," Rick joked. "Maybe he could invoke those gods to come up with a solution to our mystery. What happened to the missing scientists and old Johnny Fang? And what the heck is the terrible secret of Palua Pae?"<br /><br />The boys dried off quickly in the hot sun and pulled their clothes back on, refreshed and ready to move on. Rick draped a towel over his shoulder and gazed out at the jungle greenery and, suddenly, he stiffened and, with a bang, his heart stood still. He let out a grunt of surprise.<br /><br />"What ...?" Scotty turned to look at him, but he too saw what had startled Rick, and his jaw dropped open.<br /><br />Jimmy notched his belt closed and looked at them questioningly, and then his eyes followed theirs out toward the swamp, and he stepped back in shock.<br /><br />"Oh cripes! The Wambutu!"<br /><br />Along the edge of the foliage were twenty or so muscular native men wearing ratty short pants or breach cloths, necklaces of shells and small animal skulls, huge birdfeather headdresses on their woolly hair, and sporting painted faces straight from a nightmare. They carried spears, bows and arrows, rifles, and shoulder-slung strings of smoking human skulls and shrunken heads. <br /><br />Because of the roar of the waterfalls, the boys had not heard them approach from the jungle. The three of them now looked at each other in dismay, not knowing what to expect.<br /><br />One of the warriors stepped forward, shaking his spear at them. His face was painted white to look like a skull, frightfully effective on his black skin. His hair was woolly red and blue under the outlandish feather headdress. A string of six shrunken heads hanging from his shoulder completed the diabolical costume.<br /><br />The Wambutu warrior shouted in a bitter voice of rage, "Dis fellas no savvy no swimswim washwash musakolai!"<br /><br />Jimmy's face blanched and Rick and Scotty could see him struggle to gather his wits. Then he stepped forward boldly to face the man and sent him back a strong rebuke. He spoke crisply in the kanaka tongue, not Pidgin, and there was steel in his voice.<br /><br /> Rick and Scotty watched warily as the warrior stomped his unshod foot angrily in reply and again shook his spear at them. The others behind him moved in closer as the man spewed out another volley of words in the native tongue. Jimmy looked taken aback, and his fists clenched at his sides.<br /><br />"What's wrong?" Rick hissed. "What's he saying?"<br /><br />Jimmy kept his gaze on the warrior as he slowly answered. "They're angry because we swam in the pool of the water gods. They were out there watching us! I told them we just wanted to wash up and meant no harm to the gods - the <i>musakolai. </i>But they don't understand that. They never wash themselves. They think we were just playing in a sacred place!"<br /><br />"And now," Jimmy paused for a moment, as if to nerve himself for the worst. Then, "He says we must go to the village with them to face the shaman, the witch doctor. We have offended the gods and there must be payback."<br /><br />Rick could feel his skin begin to crawl. He heard Scotty grunt and say, "Huh? <i>Payback? </i>What kind of payback?"<br /><br />Jimmy turned to look at them. His blue eyes had hardened to look like bits of flint.<br /><br />"Look at those skulls and heads they carry," he hissed. "They're the real thing, boys. The Wambutu are angry because of the problems the gold seekers have been giving them. They've been on the warpath for a couple years over it. And now we've gone and offended their gods! And when they're angry and warring, the payback they want is ... <i>death</i>!"<br /><br /><em><span style="color: blue;">Coming soon, Chapter 13 CANNIBALS AND HEADHUNTERS!</span></em><br /></b></span></div>
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stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-53310949155729194062012-11-10T21:34:00.000-08:002012-11-11T06:36:43.574-08:00JUDY BOLTON'S UNLIKELY STRANGE LIKENESS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><strong><em>JUDY</em></strong> <strong><em>BOLTON</em></strong> #<strong><em>39</em></strong></span> <br /><span style="color: red;"><strong>THE</strong> <strong>STRANGE</strong> </span><strong><span style="color: red;">LIKENESS</span><br /><br />It's hard to believe that diehard Judy Bolton fans have waited since 1967 for this book. In the back of Judy #38, <em>The Secret of the Sand Castle</em> in 1967, it was promised as the next title to come. But it never did. The series was canceled and no more Judy Boltons were written.<br /><br />Somtime in the 1980s Margaret Sutton was interviewed by a fan (you can read the interview on judybolton.com) and she talked about this story and how she would have written it. It was to take place in the Panama Canal Zone. Judy would end up down there after following a suspicious man who looked like Peter, hoping to find her missing husband. Judy would give birth to twins Peter and Pam at the end of the story.</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;"><br />Sounds exciting, eh? Especially because there was a lot of historical intrigue going on down in the Canal Zone at that time in the late 1960s when the book would have been written. To have a pregnant Judy running around down there in those steamy jungles looking for Peter - well, it all sounded very interesting to me. In fact, I probably would have written my own version of this story, but I knew that someone else was writing it, with Margaret's approval, and that eventually it would be available to fans.<br /><br />Then, somewhere around September of 2009 we started hearing chat that the book might soon be published by Amereon, who had earlier put out very nice editions of some of the Judy Bolton books.<br /><br />A fanzine editor, for whom I had written a six page fanfiction article about Judy Bolton at this time, chopped it down to 3 paragraphs and published it that way, even though it made no sense. He was afraid he might get sued if he printed an article using Judy and her chums as characters. Of course I wondered, 'Why?' Margaret had always encouraged fans to write fanfiction about Judy. But now that she was gone, the editor believed things were different. <br /><br />I forgot about the matter for several months until, while reading a new edition of The Whispered Watchword, the fanzine put out by the Phantom Friends, I saw an advertisement on the back offering <em>The Strange Likeness</em> for sale from Amereon publishers. Great! The book was coming out. I immediately called Amereon and ordered 3 copies. I was told that they would be delivered in a few weeks, and then I relayed the information about the book to the Internet newsgroups I posted on. I knew there were plenty of others who wanted this book we'd been looking forward to for so long.<br /><br />Imagine how surprised I was to receive an email from the executor of Margaret Sutton's estate the very next day warning me to stop telling people about the book and how to order it! No explanation. No additional information. Just stop it. I had no idea what was going on; I had merely passed on information like we always do, collector to collector. So I called Amereon and was told that a stop had been put to the publishing of the book. As we learned afterward, the author was going forward with the publishing of the story without the executor's OK. That person found out about it from my post on a newsgroup and stopped the publication, saying she would write her own version.<br />
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I shrugged my shoulders - drama! There was always plenty of it in the series book collecting world where acquisitiveness and greed often come between personal relations. But I sure was disappointed in not getting the book. Obviously, it was written. All I wanted to do was read it!<br /><br />Then, a while later, maybe a few months, the next that was being chatted about in newsgroups and emails is that the executor had decided to go ahead with the already-written book. But she would bring in another writer to help with extensive rewriting to make the book the way she wanted it, and she herself would do the editing. Well, great. This was good news; they were still using the already-written story, just spiffing it up. It would still be be the story Margaret would have written, and the book would soon be coming out.<br /><br />And so it finally did, from Applewood Books. They have been publishing Judy Boltons since 1993, almost twenty years now, when I hooked up Phil Zuckerman, the boss at Applewood, with Margaret Sutton and he put out facsimile editions of books 1, 2, 37 and 38. I had driven all the way to Iowa to give him these books in person at the Nancy Drew Conference at the University of Iowa that year for Applewood to copy for their excellent facsimile editions. A few years ago I contacted him again about reproducing the entire Judy Bolton series, which Applewood has done. And now it is the only series of its type to have been reproduced in its entirety with original texts and artwork. So now I eagerly ordered a couple copies of <em>The Strange Likeness</em> and looked forward to receiving them in the mail.<br /><br />They arrived quickly, within a few days, and I was excited. I couldn't wait to sit down and jump into the story and follow Judy down to Panama as she stalks the man who strangely resembles Peter, all the time getting involved in danger and intrigue only an FBI man (and his tag along wife) can be part of. <br /><br />Wow, was I ever in for a surprise!<br /><br />When I actually looked the book over, I became <em>very</em> annoyed. It was nothing like the story Margaret would have written, that we were led to believe the original author and the new one were writing. After all, it was stressed that it was being written according to Margaret Sutton's wishes, as learned in talks with her over the years. But Judy does not go to Panama in this book. It all takes place in Pennsylvania and New York City. She follows a Peter look-alike around in bleak snowy weather in the days following Christmas, a man suspected of robberies and swindles. There is no Canal Zone. No steamy jungles. No international intrigue. And Judy does not give birth to twins in the end!<br /><br />Well, so much for writing the story Margaret wanted.<br /><br />This published version of <em>The Strange Likeness</em> is a mediocre book - not very exciting, not very inspiring, and not anything like Margaret Sutton herself said she would have written. It's not even like the other Judys; it is a lot more juvenile than they are, childish and dumbed-down. It reminds me of the revised Nancy Drew books, good stories gone bad. It lacks the spark of magic and intrigue that the Judy Boltons are noted for, and it is very redundant. It goes over and over the backgrounds of Peter and Honey when they were children, to the point where you wish Godzilla or King Kong would come roaring along on the snowy streets of New York and stir up some excitement. <br /><br />Gosh, didn't we already have enough of that in the early books of the series? It seems we already knew enough about Peter and Honey's past. Like, we could write books about it ourselves. LOL! Why does this final book have to obsess with <em>that</em>? Isn't there anything about Judy herself to obsess over? Bad enough we're not down in the steamy Panama jungles having real adventure, but we gotta be in <em>Brooklyn</em>, of all places, looking for still more of the long ago past about secondary characters?<br /><br /> LOL! Guess I really was wanting to read the Panama version of this story!<br />
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I suspect that the original version of this book was much better, a whole lot better, in fact. But the chopping it up to add new episodes and plot points, and the sometimes writing of the additional author are very apparent. What I've heard from several readers so far is that they agree with me - it's mediocre. I've also heard from some who like it. But I have yet to hear from anyone who raves about it. Because it's a Christmastime story, several fans I know are waiting till Christmas to read it. Maybe I'll do that myself, read it again at the time of the holiday and see if the spirit of the season injects any life into it.<br />
<br />I suspect that most Judy fans will like the book. No one else but me, of course, hahaha, will care that it doesn't take place down in Panama. PA and NYC are more palatable for the greater percentage of Judy Bolton readers. But not too many fans will be 'crazy' about it. Most will wish it had more of a jolt to it. It's just not a fitting story to end the great Judy Bolton Mystery series. I think it's a dud like the one before it, <em>The Secret of the Sand Castle.</em> But a dud or two are OK in any series. But that leaves us still needing a really good one to top the series off. Hopefully there might be another in the works?<br />
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</span><br /></strong><br />stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-35744674726370700902012-10-01T15:55:00.001-07:002018-10-24T19:22:44.199-07:00A JUDY BOLTON DAY MYSTERY 2<b style="color: #cc0000; font-size: xx-large;">THE MIDNIGHT PHANTOM</b><br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"><b><br /><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Copyright 2003 Stratomiker Syndicate</span><i><br />A Julie Kane mystery set in Potter County PA at the annual Judy Bolton Day weekend <br /><br />read chapter 1 <a href="http://hardyboys-stratomiker.blogspot.com/2011/10/judy-bolton-day-mystery.html">here</a></i></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><b>The Haunted Attic!</b></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Chapter Two: ALLEGHENY AMBUSH </b><br /><br /><b>"Shhh! Shhh!" </b><br /><br /><b>The red-haired girl giggled ebulliently as she
put a finger to her lips. "Don't let everyone hear you!" </b><br /><br /><b>She looked around warily. Then, when she was
assured no one had overheard Julie, she turned back with a grin. "They'll attack
us if they know I'm me! I nearly caused a riot in Erie last week. I was shopping
with my mom at the mall and someone recognized me, a girl I went to elementary
school with. She made a big fuss, right outside the entrance to Sears. Then
everyone heard it was me and there was this totally huge mob. I had to run into
the Ladies' Room for cover until the police came." </b><br /><br /><b>Julie had been to the huge Millcreek Mall just
outside of Erie by Interstate 90 many a time. Jamestown had its own Chautauqua
Mall, but it was small, and area residents often drove over to Erie for serious
shopping. But she couldn't imagine being mobbed by frenzied fans at your
hometown mall. </b><br /><br /><b>"Did the police
have to escort you home?" she asked. </b><br /><br /><b>Gina nodded, pushing the dark glasses into
place. "Yes, but that was later. I'd never be so uncool as to abandon fans. Once
the police arrived, they escorted me out to the food court and I signed
autographs and chatted with everyone for a couple hours. It's really fun to hang
out with fans. People are so interesting and, to me, 'regular' people are the
ones to be really admired. Then one of the police cars followed us home. It was
all pretty weird. Our house is only two miles from the mall and I can't even go
there without getting mobbed!" </b><br /><br /><b>Julie leaned forward, laughing. "One of the
shortcomings of being the hottest star in the world, eh?" </b><br /><br /><b>The teen queen grinned with a shrug of her
shoulders. "Well, I wasn't exactly the pop princess that day. I had this very
same garb on and my hair in rollers. And no make-up. Hoping no one would
recognize me. But, hey, it's my neighborhood and they're always on the lookout
for me." </b><br /><br /><b>Julie could understand
that. "I'll bet Gina Sabreen sightings are a big deal in Erie." </b><br /><br /><b>The girl nodded. "One day I went to the Barnes
and Noble bookstore across from the mall to buy the latest Harry Potter book. My
mom was with me and I actually wore a flight attendant outfit I got out in
Hollywood, complete with a cute little cap and a brunette wig - just to go to
Barnes and Noble!" Her fist pounded on the table. "I love to spend hours
browsing for books, but right away several people recognized me. I had to take
the wig off and hold court in the cafe and chat with everyone. Some of them
bought my CDs and I signed them. One lady had me inscribe a book she bought -<i>
The Da Vinci Code! </i>Imagine that! Sitting in a cafe dressed as a stewardess
signing CDs and a book I didn't even write. Well, at least it wasn't a mob
scene, and they do have Starbuck's coffee!" </b><br /><br /><b>Julie was chuckling. "Gina, you are really
funny." She held her hand out to the girl. "I am very happy to meet you."
</b><br /><br /><b>"Likewise," the Sabreen girl said,
shaking Julie's hand vigorously. "Do people recognize <i>you</i> often?" </b><br /><br /><b>"As a matter of fact, they do. You're the
second person today to recognize me. Of course," Julie added, "I'm not that
well-known as to cause a mob scene. And even though my life certainly is
exciting, I'm sure it's nowhere near as exciting as yours." </b><br /><br /><b>"I do have a blast-o-rama," Gina admitted. "And
it's huge to be able to travel the world. But I'm always chaperoned and guarded.
You're only a couple years older than me, but you're all about going off alone
like a girl James Bond and having real adventures. Solving mysteries! That is so
large! You rule, Julie Kane. I want to be just like you. <i>On my own.</i>"
</b><br /><br /><b>Julie picked up her Big Mac and
took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Are you flattering me to get on my good side
because I'm going to write about you?" </b><br /><br /><b>Gina was like, "No way! I really mean it. I
know I have an awesome life and I'm very grateful for all of it, but I'm never
alone. Mom and Dad are always with me, or Boom Boom, my bodyguard. I can't
remember the last time I was alone except to go to the bathroom, and not always
that!" </b><br /><br /><b>Julie found she couldn't
stop laughing. "No wonder you were such a hit on<i> Family Values</i>. You
really have a wacky sense of humor. Is that man you were sitting with your
bodyguard?" </b><br /><br /><b>Gina snorted and began
to giggle. "Totally no! That's my dad." </b><br /><br /><b>"You're dad? Wow, what a hunk he is. And I love
hunters. He looks great in that camouflage gear." </b><br /><br /><b>"Boom Boom is my bodyguard," Gina told her.
"He's even bigger than my dad, about six-two and 240 pounds. He's huge and
strong and tough, like The Rock. And he's <i>black</i>. He watches over me like a hawk
and won't let a soul get near me. He's been visiting his mom in Philadelphia and
will meet me in Coudersport this afternoon. They absolutely loved him there when
we were filming the movie this summer. He's such an oddity to them, that town is
so completely white." </b><br /><br /><b>"So your dad
is driving you to Coudy?" Julie asked. </b><br /><br /><b>"Yep. He'll drop me off at the motel and then
double back this way and down south to Tionesta Dam<span style="font-size: large;">. We have a hunting camp there, a cozy little cabin. It's bow hunting season, you know. He's just gotta get himself a buck!"</span></b><br /><br /><b>"Right. I know
all about <i>that</i>," Julie agreed. "I've been on dozens of hunting trips with
my mom, dad, and brother. It gets to be like a religion. Where is your mom?"
</b><br /><br /><b>"At home in Erie. She broke her
arm a couple weeks ago. Slipped and fell while we were covering up the swimming
pool for the season. So she's just staying home this weekend to relax. Boom Boom
will take me back to Erie on Sunday." </b><br /><br /><b>Julie's brows knit in thought. "You can ride
with me to Coudersport. That way your dad can go right down to Tionesta Dam from
here. He won't have to drive all the way out to Potter County and then <span style="font-size: large;">double</span>
back." </b><br /><br /><b>Gina's mouth went agape.
Then, "Julie, that'd be so cool. I'd love it. On my own with a girlfriend! What
a treat. And it'd sure save Dad a lot of time." </b><br /><br /><b>She turned and sent a loud "Pssst!" over to the
booth her dad was sitting in. When he looked over, she whispered, "Come on over
here!" </b><br /><br /><b>Mr. Sabreen picked up his
coffee cup and squeezed his beefy frame out of the booth. Julie checked him out
as he walked over, pleased at what she saw. He was a tall husky man in his forties
with muscular arms and broad shoulders, and a slim waist. He was handsome, and
Gina looked a lot like him. She had his cool blue eyes and blond hair, too, when
she wasn't sporting the 'dye job'. </b><br /><br /><b>He sat down next to Gina, giving Julie a
friendly smile. </b><br /><br /><b>"Dad, we were
right. This<i> is</i> Julie Kane. Julie, this is my dad, Eddie Sabreen." </b><br /><br /><b>Julie shook the man's hand. "Great to meet you,
Eddie. Wow! What's it like to be the father of this amazingly talented daughter
of yours?" </b><br /><br /><b>The man grinned from
ear to ear, obviously very proud. "It's wonderful. Gina is a great talent and
she's also a wonderful girl. We all worked hard for the astounding success she's
achieved, and we haven't lost sight that we're a very blessed family. There are
so many who don't make it, and we're sure grateful that Gina has." </b><br /><br /><b>Julie was impressed by the man's attitude of
gratitude. Her parents had instilled that value in her and her brother, and
always expressed it themselves. It always pleased her to hear it from others.
</b><br /><br /><b>"She brings a great deal of
pleasure to millions of people with her acting and singing," Julie said.
"Earlier, on my way down here, I heard <i>Wings to Fly </i>on the radio and,
wow, it really sent me. I almost flew off the road!" </b><br /><br /><b>Gina giggled. "Wait till you hear the club
version. Six minutes and thirty-two seconds of it with a techno-pop dance beat
and background vocals by Justin Timberlake and a rap riff by Kanye West."
</b><br /><br /><b>Julie's eyes widened. "Yo! How did
you manage <i>that?</i>" </b><br /><br /><b>Gina shrugged.
"They're my friends. They wanted to do something with me." </b><br /><br /><b>Julie shook her head in wonder. "That's
awesome. I'm taking mental notes for my article about you. I can't wait to hear
it - <i>Wings to Fly</i>, a dance version, with JT singing and dude himself rapping!"
</b><br /><br /><b>"Boom Boom will have CD copies of
it in Coudersport<span style="font-size: large;">," Gina told her. "</span>It was remixed at a studio in Philly by one of our DJ
friends, not far from his mom's house." </b><br /><br /><b>"Speaking of Coudersport," Julie said, looking
at Mr. Sabreen. "I'm headed there myself right now. Gina can come with me. That
way you can go right down to Tionesta Dam to start your hunting and save a lot
of time." </b><br /><br /><b>There was a quick gleam
of interest in the man's eyes. He looked at Gina. "Do you think it'd be okay,
honey? I'd sure like to get started <span style="font-size: large;">hunting</span> that buck on a beauty day like this."
</b><br /><br /><b>Gina nodded eagerly. "Of course
it'll be okay, Daddy. I'd be safer with Julie than with the President. She
travels all over the world, solves mysteries and fights crime. Like a
super hero." </b><br /><br /><b>Julie was all, "Hey, I
don't fly faster than a speeding bullet or leap over tall buildings with a
single bound!" </b><br /><br /><b>Eddie Sabreen
winked at her. "From what I've read in LifeStyles, you do just about everything
else but that." <br /><br />"Not exactly," Julie chided him with a smile. "But Gina will be plenty safe with me. The only thing between here and Coudy is the Allegheny National Forest, and nothing is likely to happen in there."<br /><br />Gina nodded, flitting a grim expression at her dad. "Right. No crazed fans or stalkers in there!"<br /><br />"Stalkers?" Julie asked, looking from one to the other.<br /><br />Mr. Sabreen shrugged, the corners of his mouth tightening. He jutted his chin toward Gina. "Some guy out in Hollywood was stalking her in August. A real creep, too. Boom Boom and I had to be with her every minute, even on a couple publicity dates. We had to sit and have dinner from a couple tables away."<br /><br />Gina rolled her eyes and chuckled. "And I was with that dreamy Chace Crawford! Had to have my dad and bodyguard ten feet away! That's why we're staying home in Erie for a while now. We completed some interior scenes for <i>The Vanishing Shadow</i> movie in Hollywood and then hightailed it back home. It's totally creepy having one of those weirdos after you!"<br /><br />Julie shivered. "Ughh! It must be awful. You haven't seen or heard from him since you've been home?"<br /><br />Eddie Sabreen shook his head. "Nothing so far. It appears to have been just a Hollywood thing. It happens a lot out there. But we're still being cautious."<br /><br />Talk about the stalker had gotten to Gina, Julie could see, but the girl forced a smile. "Can I go with Julie, Dad? We'll be okay. And Boom Boom will be there waiting in Coudy."<br /><br />Her father nodded. "All right, but don't tell your mother. I'll never hear the end of it!"<br /><br />Gina was obviously thrilled and sent Julie a triumphant smile. "Mom totally won't here about it from <i>me</i>," she assured her dad, grinning happily.<br /><br />Julie was awed by the fact that a two-to-three hour car ride with a friend was such a treat for this girl who was an international star and entertained people all over the world. But, after all, she had to remind herself, it <i>was</i> Pennsylvania and it<i> was</i> October and they'd be driving through the Allegheny National Forest to Judy Bolton Country. That was indeed pretty special, even to a girl like Gina who had it all.<br /><br />Julie finished her lunch and the three of them went back outside. The day seemed even brighter than before; there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Gina<span style="font-size: large;">'</span>s dad was driving a big silver Dodge truck with a tonneau cover over the back bed. He unsnapped the part by the tailgate and pulled the tailgate down, revealing suitcases and hunting gear that were stashed underneath. He pulled out two cloth suitcases, both packed tight and looking like they might explode.<br /><br />Julie pointed at her car parked about forty feet away. "That's me. The black Jaguar."<br /><br />Eddie Sabreen nodded. "Hot car, Julie. But will these big lumpy suitcases fit?"<br /><br />"No fear. There's plenty of room. Just toss them in the back seat."</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br />Gina's dad walked over to the car and did exactly that, then hugged his daughter and kissed her on the cheek. "Have a good time, honey. And listen to Boom Boom. <i>Don't try sneaking off away from him!"</i><br /><br />Gina blushed guiltily, glancing sideways at Julie. "Oh, Dad! I only did it that one time. You know how he watches over me like a mother hen. Sometimes it creeps me out!"<br /><br />Mr. Sabreen sighed with long-suffering patience. "Creeped out or not, honey, you need a bodyguard. Good luck with the video. I'll be back home on Monday or Tuesday, depending on how the hunting goes."<br /><br />He turned to Julie. "If you should need me, Gina has my cell phone number. If you don't get an answer, keep trying. You know how hit-and-miss reception can be in these mountains."<br /><br />Julie nodded and grinned. "That guy on TV who keeps walking around and asking 'Can you hear me now?' should be checking it out here in Appalachia, huh? It's a pleasure to have met you, Eddie, and don't worry about Gina. I'll keep an eye on her. She's my big story this weekend, so I won't let anything happen to her for sure!"<br /><br />Gina was all "Sa-weeet!" and "Ohmygod!" when they had climbed into the Jaguar and pulled out of the parking lot. Julie headed east and the car purred across the bridge that spanned the Allegheny River. <br /><br />"This is such a total wow!" Gina was carrying on. "No mother, father, bodyguard, agent, producer, director, fans or stalker! Just me alone, on my own. No one in my space. I love it!"<br /><br />Julie glanced at the girl with a laugh. "<i>I'm</i> here, Gina. Right in the same space next to you."<br /><br />Gina chuckled happily and was like, "But you are so majorly awesome and, to tell the truth, I feel safer with you than any of the others. This is<i> so</i> cool!"<br /><br />Julie had to admit, <i>yes it was!</i> She didn't usually get to take a lengthy car ride with her interview subjects and Gina was indeed the hottest entertainer in the world right now. This set-up was offering Julie a very intimate one-on-one with the girl that everybody but everybody wanted.<br /><br />She turned east after the bridge onto route 6 North which curved its way through the hills south of Warren. But not a minute later she made a quick left turn onto route 59, which led east through the northern part of the Allegheny National Forest. <br /><br />"I love this road so much," Gina said, as the forested hills closed in on them. "We drove it a lot earlier this summer back and forth to Erie when we were filming <i>The Vanishing Shadow</i> movie in Potter County. Boom Boom prefers the northern route that goes up to Interstate 86 in New York and then Interstate 90 to Erie. He likes the freeways. But I'd rather be on these remote country roads and in the hills and woods."<br /><br />"Me too," agreed Julie. "This route is so major the way it follows the river all the way to the reservoir and the dam, then goes up into the really high country before meeting up with route 6 again in Smethport. Once I had to stop because there was a bear in the road. That was freaky. Another time, this same weekend in early October, there was a blizzard on my way back home from Coudy."<br /><br />"There won't be any snow <i>this </i>weekend," Gina predicted. "Not even any cold. It's supposed to be sunny and warm. I totally love it. Look at how beautiful it all is!"<br /><br />Julie had to agree. The hills were all ablaze in their fall palette of color, the river alongside the winding road smooth and glistening in the dazzling sunlight. One couldn't ask for more lovely scenery through which to drive. The car hugged the road and purred like a cat as it swooshed around the curves in the breathtaking high country.<br /><br />"So tell me about when you sneaked away from Boom Boom," Julie asked the girl. "What made you do it? Where di<span style="font-size: large;">d you go?<span style="font-size: large;">"</span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Gina grinned and rolled her eyes. "It was in C<span style="font-size: large;">oudersport this summer while we were making the movie. Benneto Franchi had come from Cleveland to spend a few days.<span style="font-size: large;">"</span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"I met him and interviewed him last week," Julie interposed. "What a guy, huh?"</span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"He's totally fab, for sure. I talked to him a couple nights ago and he s<span style="font-size: large;">aid he'd had lunch with you. But Boom Boom won't let him or any guy get near me!<span style="font-size: large;"> He is such the king of protecting my virtue. My dates are so phony!" She shook her head and laughed. "Of course, that's what he gets paid for. It's his job. But sometimes it's just a little too much. One night in Rome Justin Timberlake and I wanted to be alone, but Boom Boom wouldn't allow it. Justin got sort of peeved."</span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"<span style="font-size: large;">Sure can't blame him," Julie commented. "But if Boom Boom can say no to <i>him</i>, he's really good at his job."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"That he is! Anyway,"Gina went on, "I made friends with a lot of the high school kids in Coudy. They were extras in the movie. The town had a big teen dance one night at the Consistory there<span style="font-size: large;">, this big old mansion that's now a Masonic Lodge and party center. It's right across the street from the Farrin<span style="font-size: large;">gdon-Pett mansion from the Judy Bolton books. The kids begged me to come, so I snuck out of the hotel and Benneto and I went to the dance. It was a blast to hang out with those kids like that!<span style="font-size: large;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">She paused a moment, grimaced, took a deep breath, then went on. "But then Boom Boom showed up, having figured out where we went. I thought he was going to strangle Benneto! He was so angry. But he managed to calm down because the kids were <span style="font-size: large;">instantly all over him. They knew him from being on location, and he's so big and hunky and has such a great personality, they just wouldn't leave him alone. He was the hit of the dance. Benneto and I were able to have a good time without his hovering all over us every minute. It was great, almost like a real date! Like now, just being off away with you without everyone who is usually on my back is so cool!"<br /><br />"Exactly what do you have to do for the music video?" Julie asked.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Just the parade scene. Speaking of which ....<span style="font-size: large;">," Gina fished around in her shoulder bag, now on the <span style="font-size: large;">console be<span style="font-size: large;">tween them, and pulled out a CD case. She opened it and slipped the disc into the car's CD player. "This is the new single, <i>It's No M</i><span style="font-size: large;"><i>ystery</i>. I wrote it myself! I hope it's a hit. It'd be so insanely major to have a hit that I wrote<span style="font-size: large;"> myself!"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Julie jumped when a sound like a sonic boom exploded in the car. A rapid dance beat followed, backed by a rack of synthesizers that took off as if for outer space. Julie was tempted to floor the accelerator and take off with it. Gina's vocals joined t<span style="font-size: large;">he melange in an infect<span style="font-size: large;">ious hook that was repeated over and over again in one key and then the next, then followed by a melodic bridge that led into a<span style="font-size: large;">n instrumental riff and then a rap solo.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />"Gina!" Julie looked at her in su<span style="font-size: large;">rprise. "Is that you?"<br /><br />The girl nodded happily. "Yes! Totally! I love it. I just had to rap <span style="font-size: large;">on a record. Do you like it? I think it is so<span style="font-size: large;"> <i>insane</i>!<span style="font-size: large;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"It's great, Gina. You really so<span style="font-size: large;">und terrific!"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Julie knew that rapping was not the easy thing a lot of people thought it was. It was a real art form of its own, and for a girl pop star like Gina <span style="font-size: large;">to rap on her own record instead of having a rapper join her and do it was really taking a risk. But she sounded just right, that exact mix of tough and s<span style="font-size: large;">exy and sweet that girl rappers str<span style="font-size: large;">ove for.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">She was like, "The kid's will love this song, Gina! That beat is fantastic and the melody is so catchy<span style="font-size: large;">. Wow, another huge hit it's gotta be! And I love the way the words tie in with the movie - so cool. Right, 'Life is <span style="font-size: large;">no mystery when you live it with someone you love!' Awesome!"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"<span style="font-size: large;">T</span>here's a parade on Saturday for Judy Bolton Day," Gina told her, "and I'll be on a special float and they'll film me lip-syncing this song. Then they'll mix it in with the rest of the shoots. We did the other footage in Hollywood and they'll <span style="font-size: large;">be using a lot of scenes from the movie."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Gina patted her upswept hair. "That's why my hair is still red. I'm still playing Judy Bolton! What a thrill. I started reading the Judys when I was a kid and I've never stopped."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Same with me," Ju<span style="font-size: large;">lie said<span style="font-size: large;">, and she chuckled as the song came to an end. "But I never imagined <i>rapping</i> ever having anything to do with Judy Bolton!</span></span> Does Ph<span style="font-size: large;">illy Cable intend to film more of the books?<span style="font-size: large;">"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"They're talking about it, and waiting to see the response to this one."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">The song ended and Gina popped out the C<span style="font-size: large;">D. "So you really like it?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"You bet, girlfriend! Perfect to lead off your new CD and tie-in with the movie."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"<i>Wings To Fly </i>will be on the new CD too<span style="font-size: large;">," Gina said. "<i>It's No Mystery</i> will be released in early January, the movie aired later in the month, and the CD released the first week in February. It's so exciting! Then they want me to do a world tour. That's scary!"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Julie nodded. "Yikes! That's a lot of hard work, kiddo. I've interviewed Madonna, Cher, Mariah Carey, Shania Twain, and many of the male singers too. They all agree that the tours are the hardest <span style="font-size: large;">work in</span> the music business<span style="font-size: large;">. They love doing it, of course. But it's tough."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Gina looked pensive for a momen<span style="font-size: large;">t, then, "We'll figure something out. Probably a limited tour here at home and a few international shows, sort of like Cleveland, Philly, Pittsburgh and New York for starters, and maybe Toronto, Lo<span style="font-size: large;">ndon, Hong Kong, Melbourne. I'm big all over the world! I actually got a fan letter from Timbuktu. My mom, who takes care of all of that, made sure I read it. I don't even know where that is<span style="font-size: large;">!"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Julie laughed. "Somewhere in Africa. One of those really exotic places."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Gina grinned and gazed happily out the window. "I've been to so many fabulous places but, let me tell you, I just adore Pennsylvania! To death! My eyes are so huge just looking at the scenery. I guess because it's <i>home</i>, no other place can really compare<span style="font-size: large;">."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Julie gently punched the girl's shoulder. "We're just a couple of Allegheny Girls at heart, you know<span style="font-size: large;">? They say that north-central PA is the ultimate nature getaway and that its color show in the fall is unparalleled anywhere else in the country because of all the maples<span style="font-size: large;">, sumac<span style="font-size: large;">, and oaks<span style="font-size: large;">. They give it all the fabulous oranges and deep reds."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Julie let her eyes leave the road for a moment to glimpse the brilliant foliage. "It's hard to believe that this right here is almost all second-growth forest. A hundred years ago clearcutting had just about devastated this area, which was supplying the whole USA with wood for housing and furniture. Thank goodness they stopped the destruction and made this a National Forest. It's all grown back and now the environment is protected!"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"My dad and I made a canoe trip down the Allegheny several years ago,<span style="font-size: large;">" Gina said. "We started out from the marina at the reservoir, right by the bridge up ahead. We paddled all the way, camped two nights on islands in the river and one night on shore. It was so ultra! We canoed all the way down to Tionesta Dam, to the cabin there. My mom met us<span style="font-size: large;">, having driven over from Erie, and we spent a few more days there.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Then," Gina's eyes widened and she snorted a laugh, "after we got home, Mom and I flew to Hollywood and I filmed some Mickey Mouse Club episodes. I was about ten or eleven then. It was so fantastically weird to me - one day living on the river in the wilderness<span style="font-size: large;">, the next singing and dancing on a sound stage in Hollywood!"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Julie looked at her with amused wonder. "Talk about diversity, huh? You're an Allegheny girl, a mouseketeer, a sexy hip-hop recording star and rapper, girl vocalist with the Cleveland Orchestra, <span style="font-size: large;">Grammy Award winner, .... ummmm ...., and Judy Bolton actress too. Can't forget that! You're a movie <span style="font-size: large;">star now, too, <span style="font-size: large;">sweetie."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">T<span style="font-size: large;">hen Julie's smile turned up a notch. She was all, "Oh don't mind me, Gina. I'm just writing out loud, making mental notes. All this stuff about you is so interesting. I want to use it all in my article, like how the girl mouseketeer canoed down the river with her dad. So awesome! Tell me more!"<br /><br />As they drove along through the blazing forest Gina continued to talk about herself, her family, and her life in the entertainment industry. Julie stored it all away in the files of her mind. It was like she had a special memory chip embedded in there. She was always able to remember everything, which sure came in handy for all the times important information was forthcoming and she was in a situation where she couldn't write it down.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">At length the river alongside the road began to widen as they approached the Kinzua Dam and Allegheny Reservoir. The mountains began to spread apart as a wide valley folded out before them.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">"This part ahead always gives me goosebumps," Gina said, sitting forward in excitement. "Like when you take off in an airplane. It's like the whole world is totally opening up and you are flying wild away through it!"<br /><br />Julie had to agree. Driving by the big dam and over the reservoir bridge was always thrilling. The sudden openness seemed like outer space itself after the deep closeness of the mountain forest.<br /><br />"Lookit!" she cried as the car drove past the widest section of river, the immense dam hovering over it like a monolithic concrete creature. "You can see soldiers up on the top of the dam. And there," she pointed as they passed parking lots for workers and tourists, "tanks and hum-vees in the parking lots. More soldiers, too!"<br /><br />Gina bent down to the dash, looking up at the huge dam with eyes popped wide. "Boom Boom and I noticed the increased security this summer when we kept driving by. What's it for?"<br /><br />Julie slowed the car down a little so that they could look at the dam and the huge reservoir ahead that it was holding back from gushing down the river. "It's part of the increased homeland security instituted last year after nine-eleven. The dam is one of the top ten high-security sites in the country. If it was bombed, the city of Pittsburgh would be flooded within the hour."<br /><br />Gina shuddered. She was all, "Ohmygod! That quick? And Warren and all those cool little towns along the way? And Tionesta, too? Yobs! They'd all be underwater in no time. Look at the size of the reservoir!"<br /><br />The hills had fallen away behind them and ahead, and spread out on both sides, lay an immense valley lake, miles wide in spots. The sun-splashed colorful mountains, reaching out like fingers, surrounded the smooth glistening waters giving the scene a Wagnerian magnificence that was as splendid as it was startling after coming from the darkness of the hills.<br /><br />Julie felt a thrill of excitement course through her. Then she was like, "I love this part, too. You're right. It's just like flying!"<br /><br />The road began to descend lower into the valley to the bridge that crossed the lake to the other side, about a mile's length at this point. With the wide open spaces and the speed of the car, and the sudden change in altitude, it was indeed like flying, and both girls started to laugh out loud.<br /><br />"Yikes! It's like we're gonna go right into the water!" Gina cried.<br /><br />Julie responded by pressing harder on the accelerator, the muffled swoosh of the engine sounding like a jet.<br /><br />She was all, totally, "Never fear! We'll fly right over it!"<br /><br />"Talk about <i>'Wings To Fly'</i>," Gina piped, holding her arms out to her sides.<br /><br />The low-slung car shot out onto the bridge that crossed the blue sparkling waters. It was four lanes wide, but the immensity of the open valley and lake surrounding it made it seem tiny and insignificant, as if the car, too, was just a tiny speck in an overwhelming vastness of an endless universe.<br /><br />"Yahoo!" Gina cried, as they sped on over the waters. "Julie! You are such a total ball!"<br /><br />Julie laughed. "And I'm going <i>slow</i> because you're with me! You should see me whiz over this bridge when I'm alone!"<br /><br />"Well don't cramp your style because of me!"<br /><br />"Hey, I promised your dad to look after you, not place you in harm's way."<br /><br />"Screw harm's way," Gina shot back. "This is just way too cool. Oh, look down there, the marina we canoed from!"<br /><br />They were quickly approaching the opposite shore and near the end of the bridge could be seen the marina that served the reservoir, a multitude of colorful boats and sails sparkling in the sun. A moment later the car shot off the bridge back onto the roadbed that now climbed steeply up the forested hill back into the highlands. Julie had to accelerate again to keep up her speed as they were suddenly plunged into the colorful darkness of the densely covered high country once again.<br /><br />A sign on the right proclaimed that the Rimrock Overlook was only a half mile ahead.<br /><br />"Oh Julie, that was fun!" the Sabreen girl cried, plopping back in her seat. "Can you stop at the overlook ahead? There are some outhouses there. I have to pee!"<br /><br />"Of course I'll stop. I seldom don't. We can walk to the overlook and catch the view. It's awesome, especially on a fall day like today."<br /><br />At the top of the hill, under the shelter of the tall trees, Julie pulled into the parking lot for the Rimrock Overlook tourist site. There were several outhouses stationed along the gravel area that led to the path to the overlook and, after alighting, the girls availed themselves of the facilities. <br /><br />Julie smiled happily as she stepped back out of the outhouse she'd used, and she drew in a deep breath of the fresh mountain air. It was cool and crisp and intoxicating, filled with the myriad scents of the forest. Tall pines and huge maples, oaks, and birch surrounded her in their various shades of fall colors. There were a couple other cars in the parking lot and beyond it was an access road leading up into the hills for hiking, biking, and snowmobiling activities. Julie gazed up the track, longing to hike up that way and spend the day on a high country trail idling away the hours far far away from the real world.<br /><br />"Oh, I'm just bonkers!" Gina was going as she stepped out of a nearby outhouse, slamming the door behind. "This is so totally fab!"<br /><br />She stretched out her arms and shivered her shoulders happily, the words PENN STATE on her sweatshirt elongating sideways on each end. Then she walked over and locked her arm with Julie's.<br /><br />"What a team we make, Julie Kane. We rule!"<br /><br />Julie's smile grew into a chuckle. "I know that you rule the pop charts, Gina. But exactly what do I rule?"<br /><br />Gina smirked happily, going, "The newstands! And together we are going to be a huge world-wide hit!"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Julie certainly did hope that her story about Gina and Judy Bolton Day weekend would be a popular one, but her really big stories that had gained world-wide attention had all involved mystery and peril. And there was just no chance of that happening in Potter County, thank goodness. She certainly didn't want anything untoward to mar the beautiful weekend ahead.<br /><br />The girls walked through the woods down the dirt path arm in arm gaily chatting away until, at length, the tall trees thinned and they walked out onto a large stone-flagged terrace that overlooked the man-made lake below. They walked over to the stone wall that surrounded the overlook on its outer edge.<br /><br />"Wow! Check out this view," Julie said, leaning against the rail atop the stone, perched there high above the valley. "It's like being ontop of the world!"<br /><br />Gina looked back and forth with wonder in her eyes. She was totally, "Hey, we should have filmed the video for <i>Wings to Fly </i>up here instead of in the studio. The Cleveland Orchestra could've fit on this big terrace. I could've been standing on this wall lip-syncing. And there could've been helicopter shots of me sweeping and up and down the hills and valley!"<br /><br />"What an awesome video that would be," Julie agreed, her eyes sweeping the valley reservoir of the damned-up Allegheny. "<i>Beautiful Waters, </i>the native Senecas call this lake. It's twenty-four miles long with ninety-one miles of shoreline. This section here is the widest with these amazing expansive views. Don't you just love how the hills reach into the waters like long spindly fingers of color?"<br /><br />Gina giggled, all, "Love it! And the sheer beauty of it, and the heights up here, make me dizzy! I wanted to stop here a couple times with Boom Boom this summer, but he's afraid of bears. Oh laugh out loud, and he's bigger than any of them! We did pull into the parking lot and use the outhouses but he wouldn't hike over here to the overlook."<br /><br />Julie laughed along with the girl, finding it amusing that a big tough bodyguard was that much afraid of bears. "They usually stay away from the people areas like this anyway. There really isn't anything to fear in these woods!"<br /><br /><i>Thwack!</i><br /><br />Both Julie and Gina jumped at the sudden unexpected noise.<br /><br /><i>Thwack! Thwack!</i><br /><br />Then it came again, and ... again!<br /><br /><i>Thwack! Thwack!<br /><br />Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!</i><br /><br />A dozen seconds passed before Julie realized what was happening. <br /><br />"Ohmigod, Gina! <i>Arrows! </i>Someone is shooting at us!"<br /><br /><i>Thwack! Thwack!</i><br /><br />Two more hunting arrows slammed the wall inches from the girls, bouncing back to the flagged floor to join the others that had preceded them. <br /><br />Julie grabbed Gina's arm. "Quick! over to that corner!"<br /><br />She pulled the younger girl to the far corner of the terrace hoping to evade the flying missiles, but they only followed, banging into the farther wall inches aside them. <br /><br /><i>Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!</i><br /><br />They scrunched down into the corner, terrified. <br /><br />Suddenly the whole glorious world around them had turned into a nightmare!<br /><br />"Somebody's up there!" Julie hissed, pointing to the woods high above them. "A hunter! It's gotta be! It's bow-hunting season! And ... it's crazy ... totally ... but he's shooting at <i>you and me!"</i><span style="color: red;"><i><br /><br /><br />Read Chapter 3 <a href="http://hardyboys-stratomiker.blogspot.com/2013/09/a-judy-bolton-day-mystery-3.html">here!</a></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></b><br />stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-3311633619412873752012-06-21T08:34:00.002-07:002012-06-21T08:44:10.246-07:00RICK BRANT GOLDEN DRAGON 11<div dir="ltr">
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<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name">
RICK BRANT GOLDEN DRAGON 11
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">All chapters through chapter 11 are now available on this alternate site:<br />
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<a href="https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction/dragon"><span style="color: blue;">THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN DRAGON https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction/dragon</span></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN DRAGON</span><i><span style="color: #4f81bd; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> or THE SOUTH SEAS CITY OF DEATH MYSTERY<br /><br /> </span></i></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;">Chapter Eleven: IN THE CAVES OF WAR</span>
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</span></b></span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"> A stir of excitement crept into Rick
Brant’s blood as they entered the labyrinth of caves on Coastwatchers Hill. The
native boys led the way through a concrete bunker entrance, each holding a
flashlight. Thrilled at the idea of such a marvelous tool, they flashed them
about the cave, darting here to there as quick as lightning.<br /><br />
Jimmy and Scotty followed behind
them with the lanterns and Rick took up the rear, his spine tingling as he
looked around in wonder.<br /><br />
He had parked the jeep in a short
dead end cave a couple dozen yards down the hillside, then they had stolen
through the jungle bush over to this entrance which the native boys claimed led
into the main chambers of the underground.<br /><br />
The floor was soft with ash and it
was dry and spacious within. The flashing light beams exposed the height of the
walls and ceilings, which appeared to be fifteen feet or so. They were, for the
most, shored up by thick wooden beams and the enhancement of the caves by the
Japanese was obviously an engineering marvel. It was much cooler in the caves,
but very dark. Rick wondered how the kanaka boys played inside here without
light.<br /><br />
A moment later his question was
answered.<br /><br />
The older boy, whose name they had
learned was Chtupa, aimed his flashlight beam at the ground and started
chattering expressively.<br /><br />
“Torches!” Rick exclaimed, looking
at the wooden club-like items on the floor next to a bunch of wooden crates
filled with supply items.<br /><br />
“They used them in here during the
occupation,” Jimmy said, after Chtupa had stopped speaking. “The kids use them
now. Everything they need is here – fuel, tar, pitch, wooden matches. Ha!
Instant underground playground!”<br /><br />
“All kids love caves,” Scotty
remarked, holding his lantern high as he peered around. “And it’s roomy in
here. Nice. I wonder if there are bats?”<br /><br />
Jimmy asked the boys the question as
they moved along and the younger boy, Butubu, answered with a waving of his
arms, flashlight beam swirling crazily.<br /><br />
“He says there are a lot of them,”
Jimmy translated. “Hundreds. Thousands. But you don’t see them very often.
There are even big furry ones, like flying foxes. Of those he is afraid.”<br /><br />
Rick shuddered. “I don’t blame him.
We heard about those down in New Caledonia. Let’s hope we don’t run into any!”<br /><br />
The cave floor was well-trod, as if
thousands of men had made their way back and forth across it. Other tunnels led
off here and there, winding away into darkness, Some had stairs cut into them,
leading up and down to different levels. Trash of all kinds was strewn along
the way, individual pieces here and there and crates filled with it stacked
haphazardly along the sides.<br /><br />
“They left quite a mess,” Rick
commented.<br /><br />
Jimmy nodded. “There were over
a hundred thousand men in these caves at the height of the occupation. It’s
staggering to think how they fed them, kept them clean and safe, and doctored
them. Especially when they were so cramped in here for such a long time.”<br /><br />
“It had to be sheer insanity,”
Scotty said. “And they probably weren’t concerned with taking proper care of
anyone.” Then, raising his lantern, he added, “Lookit! We’re coming to a big
cavern now.”<br /><br />
The native boys’ lights showed the
tunnel ending and a large cavern ahead. They quickened their pace and surged
on, Chtupa and Butubu talking in excited animation. Rick realized that the
young boys found no reason to be quiet in the eerie caves.<br /><br />
“This is the main big cave in this
area of the underground,” Jimmy told them as they stepped into it. “It must
have been a command post. The boys say it’s filled with radio equipment and
other electronic equipment, and lots of munitions.”<br /><br />
They found this to be true as they
looked around, aiming the flashlight beams and raising the lanterns. There was
a central area of desks, counters and alcoves filled with radio and other electronics
equipment. Desk drawers were open, some broken and hanging. Chairs were tipped
over and much of the equipment was strewn around. Beyond this area was a galley
with all the usual appliances and rows of tables and chairs, like a cafeteria,
all of it in similar disarray.<br /><br />
“You could seat several hundred
people here,” Scotty said, raising his lantern high. The rows of tables seemed
to go on forever.<br /><br />
Rick shuddered, feeling a chill
creep up his spine. He could feel the ghosts of war all around them. It boggled
his mind that this underground had been teeming with such an astounding number
of men caught up in the most vile of activity during the war and that now, only
a few years later, it was completely empty and devoid of any kind of human
activity. Just a few kids coming in now and then to play, and a crazy old man
who had made it his home.<br /><br />
He drew his lips into a tight line.
“Tell the boys to take us to the madman’s cave.”<br /><br />
Jimmy addressed the boys in their
native tongue and they both responded eagerly with pidgin commands that even
Scotty and Rick could understand as ‘Come this way!’ and ‘Follow me!’<br /><br />
“We have to go carefully now and
watch our step,” Jimmy advised, as they followed the boys to even darker
regions. “They buried explosive mines in some of these caves near the end of
the war in case the enemy crept in. Chtupa says that every now and then someone
steps on one and sets it off, resulting in injury or death.”<br /><br />
“Oh, great!” rapped Scotty with a
sharp voice. “Next they’ll tell us that the place is filled with dinosaurs!”<br /><br />
“So what’s one more danger?” Rick
chuckled. “Just watch those big clodhopper feet of yours.”<br /><br />
Scotty’s voice fell to a hissing
whisper. “Don’t worry about me,” he gloated. “I learned how to do a toe dance
in a minefield during the war. It’s you guys who don’t have any experience!”<br /><br />
They moved on into a smaller cave
that led slightly upward. Off of it were many small caves filled with caches of
arms and other munitions, and what looked like aircraft parts and shipping
supplies. There was an infirmary in one cave, completely set up with medical
equipment and supplies, a machine shop in another, and vast areas of sleeping
quarters.<br /><br />
But they didn’t stop long to linger
in these lonely, haunted places. They briefly checked them out and then moved
on, watching their step in the booby-trapped labyrinth. At length they followed
Chtupa and Butubu up a set of stairs cut into the floor of an ascending cave
and they came upon a holding area, a large cavern filled with cells, some made of
wood, others metal bars. The cells loomed on as far as they could see in their
meager light.<br /><br />
“We should have taken torches,”
Scotty grunted. “This place is too big and too weird to have such little light.”<br /><br />
“It’s totally creepy,” Jimmy
muttered, following the young native boys down the rows of cells. “I can’t
imagine being imprisoned in this horrible place!”<br /><br />
“It had to be a nightmare,” Rick
agreed, trying not to peer into the empty cells but unable to control his
curiosity. “This place reeks of death and anguish.”<br /><br />
Scotty made a sympathetic gesture.
“You said it, man. It’s so thick you can cut it with a knife.”<br /><br />
The native boys led them down an
aisle off a row of cells and it brought them into a low-ceilinged cave with
what turned out to be just one cell in it, room-sized and filled with odd
pieces of furniture.<br /><br />
Chtupa had quite a bit to say about
it.<br /><br />
“This is the old Chinese man’s
house,” Jimmy said, following him. “He lives in here and it looks like he’s made it
pretty comfortable.”<br /><br />
They flashed their lights through
the bars into the cell and the glow helped to illuminate it. Inside was a bed
topped with an array of blankets, two desks, a couple chairs, and a chest-like
wardrobe. The iron-barred door was ajar and Rick pulled it open, causing it to
squeal loudly in the intense quiet of the caves. <br /><br />
“He must have dragged all this
furniture in here to have a cozy nook for himself,” Rick mused. His keen eyes
gazed around as they all stepped into the cell. “Not bad considering it’s in the
caves of war inside a mountain on a jungle island!”<br /><br />
“Let’s look for a sign of my dad and
Dr. Warren,” he added.<br /><br />
Scotty opened the wardrobe and saw a
few pieces of ragged clothing hanging over the bar. Below were boxes of
ammunition and ammunition belts, and he eagerly picked them up exclaiming
happily.<br /><br />
Chtupa grabbed him by the arm and
pointed to the wall next to the big chest, saying, “Coocoo man’s shootem guns
belongem him!”<br /><br />
Scotty moved closer to see several
rifles leaning against the wall and three revolvers set on a low bench beside
them.<br /><br />
“All right! Found the guns and ammo,
chums!” he shouted back to the others. “At least now we’ll be armed if those tong
idiots try to come after us.”<br /><br />
Setting his lantern on the floor, he
squatted down and began inspecting the firearms.<br /><br />
There was an oil lamp on one of the
desks and a torch jammed into a holder on the wall. Rick sparked a wooden match
and lighted them both, bathing the cell in light. The place was filled with all
kinds of useless items a madman might gather, including weapons and electronics
parts, journals and books, dishes, bowls, and glasses, and many items that must
have been personal belongings of the soldiers. They were stacked on surfaces,
shoved into overflowing boxes and crates, and leaning against the walls.<br /><br />
“The old guy sure is a packrat,”
Jimmy said, looking through books and journals. “These are all wartime records
in Japanese. Not very interesting reading, that’s for sure.”<br /><br />
“Probably the only kind of books
they allowed in here,” Rick chuckled, pulling open a desk drawer. “I doubt if
the Japs actually supplied their troops with a lending library.”<br /><br />
He looked in all the drawers in one
desk but found nothing of any interest, then hurried over to the other.<br /><br />
“There must be something here
somewhere to give us a clue to the old man’s identity,” he said. “Something to hook him up with Dad and Dr. Warren.”<br /><br />
“No sign of a struggle in here,”
Jimmy was saying. “Of course, hard to really tell, it’s such a mess. If the
tong captured them in here – well, it doesn’t show. They could have come upon
them anywhere in these caves.”<br /><br />
Rick had been looking through the
second old wooden desk but had not found anything but odds and ends office
supplies and pages of correspondences that probably would have proved
interesting to him had they not been in Japanese. He slammed shut the last
drawer and grunted in discouragement when Butubu came over to him. The boy set
his flashlight down on the desktop and said in a very proud and grand manner:<br /><br />
“Watchem dis fella!”<br /><br />
The boy pushed at a piece of the
wooden trim along the bottom of the desk’s top where it overlapped the front,
and a hidden door popped out above the row of drawers, exposing a cavity. The
seam had cleverly been hidden in the scrollwork design in that area and Rick
would never have noticed it without intense scrutiny.<br /><br />
Butubu thrust his hand into the dark
space and pulled out a bright object. Grinning widely with great importance, he
displayed it to Rick in his palm.<br /><br />
The boy chuckled, “Howzabouts, mon?”<br /><br />
Rick gasped. Butubu held in his hand
a small golden dragon similar to the one he had received in the package from
the black schooner at Lateela Island. It shone warmly in the lantern glow and
lights glinted and danced upon it from the flickering torch on the cave wall.<br /><br />
Chtupa saw the golden dragon and
scurried over to his brother, exclaiming in a know-it-all manner to Jimmy about
the sudden appearing object.<br /><br />
“It’s another dragon, Rick!” he
cried, rushing over to look at it as Butubu proudly showed it off. “Chtupa says
it belongs to the old Chinese man. He sometimes shows it to them, but always
makes sure to put it back in the secret compartment afterward.”<br /><br />
Rick took the dragon from the boy’s
hand and turned it over in his. A flush of excitement leaped into his cheeks.
“It’s exactly the same as mine! Do you know what this means, Jimmy? The old
madman has got to be Johnny Fang! Who else would have one of these dragons but
the leader of the tong himself who had been to the lost island and seen the
treasure in person?”<br /><br />
Jimmy stood there with his mouth
agape. “Then it’s true. Oh man, man …. he didn’t die on Palua Pae! Somehow he
survived and got off the island, took one of these dragons with him from the
treasure trove.”<br /><br />
Scotty had risen to his feet to
watch the intense scene unfold. “Johnny Fang went nuts on that island, but got
here to Rabaul somehow and came up to these caves to live. During the war he
hid away in the farthest reaches of them, I’ll bet. But since then he’s taken
over this cell and is not only the madman of Coastwatchers Hill, but also the
king of the whole darn hill, too!”<br /><br />
“And then dad and Dr. Warren came
here to get him, for whatever their reason is,” Rick continued. “And they took
him away with them. Or the tong followed and got them all.”<br /><br />
Rick tossed the golden icon to
Jimmy, who caught it firmly in hand.<br /><br />
“You keep it,” he told him. “It
belongs to your grandfather. Hopefully we’ll be meeting up with him soon.”<br /><br />
Scotty pulled an old shirt from the
wardrobe and began cleaning the guns. “Now if we only had a clue to where they
went from here!”<br /><br />
Rick playfully roughed up Butubu’s
mop of curly hair. “I think this little guy here got that clue for us. This
whole mystery started out with the golden dragon and that’s where it will end,
on that lost island in that big cavern of light beyond the big golden dragon,
the keeper of the treasure of Palua Pae.<br /><br />
“I’m betting everything on it,” he
continued resolutely. “Dad and Dr. Warren and Johnny Fang either went there on
their own or they were abducted by the tong and taken there. We need to get out
to that island quick. And I mean like … tomorrow!”<br /><br />
“Then let’s get going,” Jimmy said,
pocketing the dragon, which had caused an undercurrent of stirring emotion in
him. “We can be in Storms End by morning and out to the island by late
afternoon maybe, or the very next day.”<br /><br />
“You mean if we can get a boat to
take us out there,” Scotty reminded him.<br /><br />
Jimmy grunted. “Puh! Don’t worry,
we’ll get one. We could get a hundred. All I have to do is announce that I know
the way to Palua Pae, and they’ll be lining up begging for the chance!”<br /><br />
Just then, Chtupa grabbed Jimmy by
the leg and let out a frightened whisper, pointing out the cell door down the
aisleway into the large cavern.<br /><br />
Everyone immediately tensed as Jimmy
looked and, with a startled note in his voice, breathed a ragged, “Lights
coming!”<br /><br />
“Oh, cripes,” Scotty groaned. “It’s
gotta be the tong guys … again!”<br /><br />
Rick growled in frustration. “It’s
like having monkeys on our backs!”<br /><br />
They quickly turned off the lanterns
and flashlights but it was impossible to put out the torch without some kind of
extinguisher, and there was no time to look for one now. Several lights could
be seen bobbing their way down toward them.<br /><br />
Two things happened at the same time
in the rush of confusion. First, Scotty threw one of the rifles at Rick who
barely caught it due to the suddenness of the movement. <br /><br />
“Use it,” Scotty rapped, rushing up
to the front bars with a rifle of his own.” These babies are fresh and loaded!”<br /><br />
And, as Rick clambered up to the
front of the cell, the two native boys began jabbering excitedly and pulling at
Jimmy. They literally dragged him over to the wardrobe by the cave’s wall.<br /><br />
“Hey, we can get out of here!” Rick
vaguely heard Jimmy hiss as he and Scotty both pulled the triggers.<br /><br />
</span></b><b><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Ping!
Ping! Ping! Ping!<br /><br />
</i> The gunfire cracked out in
high-pitched screeches and echoed wildly in the caves like booms of thunder.
The lights ahead, flashlights and torches, fell to the ground. Rick heard
Scotty grunt in satisfaction, then he shot a quick glance behind at Jimmy who
was, along with the boys, pushing aside the wardrobe.<br /><br />
“Rick! Scotty! We can get out of
here. There’s a secret passage to some other caves. Come on!”<br /><br />
Rick had just turned back to look
out toward the big cavern when return fire rained out at them. Bullets pinged
off the cave walls and nipped by in the air, one twanging as it hit an iron bar on
the front of the cell. A wild roar of echoes filled the caves and Scotty
stooped down, firing back.<br /><br />
“They found a secret passageway”,
Scotty hissed over to Rick. “Take that rifle with you and go! I’ll follow up
the rear.”<br /><br />
“I’m not leaving you here alone!”
Rick threw back at him.<br /><br />
Scotty growled. “Get your butt outta
here, buddy, before I beat you over the head with this rifle’s butt!”<br /><br />
“Okay! Okay!”<br /><br />
Rick nerved himself for the effort
of leaving Scotty behind and, clutching the rifle, swooped around to find Jimmy
and the boys gone. There was a gaping dark hole in the wall where the wardrobe
had stood.<br /><br />
Jimmy popped his head out of the
darkness. “Come on, Rick! We got the extra guns and lights. Just get that
lantern there.”<br /><br />
Rick bounded over, picked up the
lantern by its handle, and rushed dead on into the black hole as Jimmy pressed
up against the stone wall to give him room.<br /><br />
“Go on,” he urged to Rick, who could
see the native boys ahead with the flashlights. “I’ll get Scotty.”<br /><br />
“Good luck,” Rick harrumphed,
darting forward. “He probably thinks he’s still shooting at Japs!”<br /><br />
He ran on toward the boys with his
senses reeling. A broken cry came to his lips and he wanted to turn around and
go back into the cell and fight whatever enemy was upon them. The truth struck
him hard. He couldn’t bear leaving Scotty behind, facing such danger alone.<br /><br />
He tried to grasp on to saner
thoughts. Scotty was an experienced fighter. He had made it through the war
here in the South Pacific without even being wounded. He’d take care of himself. Meanwhile, these
young boys …<br /><br />
Right. He had to get them out of
here to safety!<br /><br />
Chtupa and Butubu were loaded down
with lights and revolvers. Jimmy had to have the third rifle, and that made Rick
feel a little better. But he could still hear the roar and rumble of gunfire
from back in the cell, and the horror of the situation began to appall him.
They could all be killed in this dark labyrinth of terror, left here to rot and
none of them ever seen again!<br /><br />
“Bosh!” Rick told himself out loud.
“No time for that kind of thinking now!”<br /><br />
In a flash he had stooped down and
struck a match. He lighted the lanterns as the boys cried out and gestured
forward frantically.<br /><br />
“Okay. I know we gotta go. Here,
give me those guns. Each of you take a lantern and a flashlight. We’ll get the
heck outta here, <i>brotha kiddos</i>!”<br /><br />
Somehow they understood him. Rick
jumped back up to his feet, belted the three revolvers. He followed behind the
boys as they ran ahead jabbering excitedly in their native tongue that he
couldn’t understand one word of.<br /><br />
The cave they were in was roomy
enough but it twisted and turned like a coiled snake. It was quiet behind them
now. Rick couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to stop the gunfire. Were
Scotty and Jimmy out of the madman’s cell and on their way in the tunnel? Were
they okay, had they been wounded? Or worse ….?<br /><br />
He steeled himself again not to
think about it and watched the flashlight beams and the lantern glow light up
the cave ahead, wishing he knew where it led to. But if the boys had known
about it, he reasoned, they must have been in it before and would know where it
went. Hopefully outside and, he thought, real quick!<br /><br />
A moment later he could hear running
footsteps coming from behind. He turned and his heart began to hammer in anticipation.
Was it Scotty and Jimmy? Was it … the tong members?<br /><br />
The suspense was killing him. He
followed the boys around another turning and then threw himself against the
wall, rifle aimed in the ready. Chtupa and Butubu, having heard the onrushing
efforts behind, followed suit and pressed back too, aiming their flashlight
beams back the way they had just come, big-eyed fearful expressions on their
young faces.<br /><br />
The next moment, Rick let out a sigh
of relief. Scotty and Jimmy came
crashing around the corner looking like a couple of French Foreign Legion
gangbusters.<br /><br />
“Ah … light!” Scotty cried, eyeing
the flashlights and lantern greedily. “Running in a cave in the dark is not
easy, chums. I ran into the wall so many times I feel like I just went ten
rounds with the World Champ!”<br /><br />
“Are you guys okay?” Rick asked. </span></b></span></div>
<div id="sites-attachments">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
Jimmy nodded. “Not a scratch! Just a
lot of bumps from bangin’ in the dark. We staved them off pretty good and were
able to pull the wardrobe back in place. It might take them a few minutes to
find the passage.”<br /><br />
“That must be why the madman chose
that cell to live in,” Scotty said, breathing heavily. “It had a secret way
out.”<br /><br />
“I wonder if they used it when your
dad and his friend came here to see him?” Jimmy said to Rick. “It’s possible
they could have escaped the tong.”<br /><br />
Rick shrugged, relieved to have his
friends back with him. Both okay and in one piece. “I guess we won’t know the
answer to that until we meet up with them. Come on, let’s go!”<br /><br />
Chtupa and Butubu had been nervously
standing by during this exchange and Jimmy, after taking one of their
flashlights, helped them lead the way again down the twists and turns.<br /><br />
“This cave leads to a big cavern,”
Jimmy said after conversing with the boys a couple minutes. “These kids have
been there only once, the day the old man showed them the trolley and gave them
a ride. That cave leads outside nearby where we parked the jeep.”<br /><br />
“Perfect!” Rick cheered. “Great! We
can jump in the jeep and get the heck out of here.”<br /><br />
“The trolleys must’ve been used to
haul stuff in and out of here,” Scotty reasoned. “What a production, building
an underground like this!”<br /><br />
“It was nothing to the Japanese,”
Jimmy said. “Remember, they wanted to take over the whole world. It was utterly
mad, the idea. But digging these caves was part of the plan and served its
purpose.”<br /><br />
They rounded another corner and then
the native boys stopped dead, looking ahead at two branching tunnels and making
cries of consternation.<br /><br />
Jimmy groaned. “They don’t remember
which way to go!”<br /><br />
He questioned them as they all stood
there uncertainly, but the boys could do little more than fidget nervously and groan
in confusion.<br /><br />
Jimmy shrugged as he turned back to
Rick and Scotty. “Sorry, they just don’t remember.”<br /><br />
Rick grunted, He looked back behind
them and then he heard the dread noise he’d been listening for the last few
minutes – angry voices and running footsteps. He moved ahead of the others and
took the flashlight from Chtupa. “Those guys are coming after us. We’ve got to
make a choice. I’ll do it! Let’s take the cave on the left!”<br /><br />
A moment later they were rushing
down the passage, all in a frenzy now, hoping they had chosen the right way and
that the tong hoodlums would take the other way and not catch up with them.<br /><br />
It was like rushing headlong into
some strange surreal nightmare. The flashlight beams zigzagged about like
lightning strikes, the glowing orbs from the lanterns swayed in big circles up
and around the cave walls. Suddenly the grade began to ascend and then turned
into steps cut into the stone, and all five of them were huffing and puffing as
they clambered upward, ears straining to listen for noise from behind.<br /><br />
Chtupa began to wail and grabbed
Jimmy by the arm, a flood of words bursting from him in agonizing distress.<br /><br />
“Darn it!” Jimmy let out. “He
doesn’t remember stairs! The way the madman took them was all flat, he says. No
up and no down!”<br /><br />
Rick felt a sickening sense of
disappointment. His voice hardened as he spoke. “We went the wrong way! Too late now to
turn back. We’ll just have to follow this route and see where it takes us.”<br /><br />
Still in the lead, he reached what
appeared to be a top step and flashed his light ahead to see a vague murkiness.
He stepped tentatively forward, to see if the ground was solid beneath his
feet, and the others crowded up behind him, lanterns and flashlights lighting
up the space before them.<br /><br />
“It must be a really big cavern,”
Scotty whispered as the lights darted about. “You can’t see any walls or
ceiling.”<br /><br />
And then, a roar came from up above
like sudden thunder. A thousand screeching, crying voices descended upon them
accompanied by a beating of wings that struck chills up and down their spines
as they gaped above in horror.<br /><br />
Like a thick cloud falling heavily
from the sky, it was suddenly upon them. Dozens, scores, hundreds of beating
wings, glistening gleaming eyes, open mouths with jagged fang-like teeth, all
harshly profiled in horror by the flickering lights.<br /><br />
Chtupa and Butubu started screaming
and the older boys’ shouts weren’t far from different as they all cowered and
stooped and swung and cried out at the flying menace from the unfathomable
heights of the cavern.<br /><br />
“Bats!” Scotty shouted, flailing at
them with his rifle. “There must be thousands of them!”<br /><br />
“They’re monsters, big as small
dogs!” Rick yelled. “Jeez! Big and ugly and …. furry!”<br /><br />
“The flying foxes!” Jimmy cried out, trying to protect Chtupa and Butubu
as he himself was being attacked by several of the crazed beasts.<br /><br />
Rick was gasping, half stupefied
from this latest horror. He fell down to one knee and raised his rifle into the
air, claws and beating wings and screeching cries all around him.<br /><br />
“Cower down! I’m shooting!”<br /><br />
He cried it out and let go a barrage
of fire that echoed down upon them like pulsating thunder and caused the
beating of wings and snapping of jaws and banshee cries to increase even more.
The noise only served to frighten the already crazed monster bats.<br /><br />
But they did rise up above the boys a
little in their terror, and Scotty and Jimmy rushed from behind, grabbing Rick
and the younger boys and pulling them on ahead. They ran and stumbled on,
trying to direct the lights and find a way out of this cave from hell without
tripping and falling down.<br /><br />
“Good thinking, Rick,” Scotty
grunted. “That scared them off a bit, those suckers! What a bunch of ugly
customers!”<br /><br />
“A <i>bunch</i>?” Rick let out a nervous laugh. “If there’s one, there’s a
darn million! Oh, cripes now, Scotty. They’re comin’ back down!”<br /><br />
“Jimmy, you go ahead with the kids,”
Scotty shouted. “Rick and I will shoot up these creepy flying French poodles!”<br /><br />
“They’re a heck of a lot uglier than
that,” Rick snapped, dropping down to a shooting position. He forced a laugh. “And
there ain’t <i>nothin’</i> French that’s
ugly like these things are!”<br /><br />
Scotty dropped down next to him. “You’re
right! Flying <i>New Guinea</i> poodles,
then. I wish I could shoot every darn one of them down into a nice big pile!”<br /><br />
In unison their rifles cracked
numerous times, the loud reports echoing and reverberating throughout the big
dark cavern. The big bats screeched and cried and beat their way back upward to
the dark depths. Rick and Scotty then swooped around and began running stooped
over toward the lights, now about thirty feet away. They caught up with Jimmy
and the boys as they were running into a smaller cave that branched off ahead
from the murky cavern.<br /><br />
“Whew!” Rick wanted to lean against
the wall for a breather but he didn’t dare stop. “Those hairy things are awful!”<br /><br />
“You bet!” Jimmy tossed back. “And
they bite, too. Vampire bats! They like to get your blood.”<br /><br />
“Yechhhh!” Scotty made a sound of
disgust. “Anybody get bitten?”<br /><br />
But, fortunately, no one had, and
they hurried on ahead, lights flashing to lead the way. Suddenly from behind,
they heard shouts and yells coming from the big cavern, then gunfire, as if in
a repeat performance of what they had just gone through in there themselves.<br /><br />
“The tong!” Rick exclaimed. “They’re
right behind us. Now it’s their turn with those bats!”<br /><br />
“Come on, let’s vamanoose!” Scotty
commanded, running ahead to take the lead. “Those suckers will be on top of us
in a minute or two. Let’s get …”<br /><br />
Scotty’ mouth dropped open as the
lights began to shine ahead on objects that seemed to be floating in mid-air.<br /><br />
“Hey, slow down, everybody,” he muttered,
barring the way as he grabbed the lantern Chtupa was carrying. “What in the
crazy heck is that up ahead?”<br /><br />
He raised the lantern and stepped
slowly on. The light glinted off of what looked like white sticks suspended
weirdly in the air about twenty feet ahead.<br /><br />
“What are they?” Rick wondered,
following behind and squinting his eyes in an attempt to see better.<br /><br />
“There’s more on the ground, too,”
Jimmy pointed out as the cave broadened on each side. “Piles of them. White
sticks … or tubes … or …”<br /><br />
“Bones!” Rick gasped. <br /><br />
Little Butubu screamed as they all
realized at the same moment what was up ahead, and Chtupa shouted:<br /><br />
“Dem bones! Dem bones! Skelton
fella. Lots much!”<br /><br />
Like a blurry picture suddenly
coming into focus, they could now see the horror this cave was filled with. Skeletons.
Hundreds and hundreds of them as far as the eye could see. They were hanging
from the ceiling in rows and rows with bent broken necks. They were piled on
the ground along the sides in huge rolling mounds.<br /><br />
Astonished, they stopped dead in their
tracks and gaped ahead,<br /><br />
“Oh man, Scotty,” Rick said, feeling
as if he’d just had the breath knocked out of him. “I think we just found all
those prisoners of war that never made it back home to America from the war here
in the South Pacific!”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"> </span><i style="color: red;">Chapter 12 to come soon!</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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</div>stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-83812207400968374762012-05-21T12:01:00.000-07:002012-05-21T13:17:24.913-07:00JUDY BOLTON & THE HEADLESS FRENCHMAN<div style="color: red; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">JUDY BOLTON:</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">THE SECRET OF THE HEADLESS FRENCHMAN</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Any avid Judy Bolton fan would surely think that author Margaret Sutton had covered all the known mysteries in Potter County PA in her 38-volume Judy Bolton series. But the truth is, she only touched upon the voluminous mythology of what was once known as The Forbidden land, the Pennsylvania Black Forest region that includes Potter County and its bordering neighbor counties.</b></span> <span style="font-size: large;"><b>Of the many legends and unsolved mysteries that Judy Bolton never met up with but surely would have, had she the time, one that stands out is the spooky legend of The Headless Frenchman of Twin Sisters Hollow.<br /><br />Twin Sisters Hollow is located in the Susquehannock State Forest near Cross Forks on route 144, about 25 miles south of Coudersport. This location is only a few miles away from Ole Bull State Park, where a real-life Norwegian violinist built the castle that was Ms. Sutton's inspiration for the book <i>The Clue in the Ruined Castle</i>. In Twin Sisters Hollow on a small lake accessed by a trail that leads from the highway through the woods, stand the ruins of the Twin Sisters silver mine and smelter, built in the early 1600s by Frenchman Etienne Brule. This famed explorer is reputed to be the original <i>coureur de bois</i>, forest runner and fur trader/trapper, who first explored and helped to open up much of the Great Lakes regions of Canada and the USA.<br /><br />Although Brule was friend and brother to almost all the Indians of the East and Midwest and had lived amongst them peacefully for many years, legend has it that he ran into some serious trouble in Twin Sisters Hollow. He and his band of men had struck silver and sunk a shaft into the hillside by the lonely little lake. They built a smelter and proceeded to mine the precious metal against the wishes of the local Susquehanna Indian tribe, who believed the hollow and its waters to be a sacred place. When the miners refused to stop their work, so goes the tale, the Indians attacked on the night of the October full moon in 1618, wounded and killed many of the men, and beheaded Brule. As a warning against further disturbances in the hollow, they placed his body with its head in its hands at the opening of the mine shaft.<br /><br />Throughout the many years since then, scores of sightings have been reported of the ghost of Brule seen carrying his head and wandering aimlessly near the mine and along the Twin Sisters Trail leading to it, always and only on the night of the October full moon. Many of those who have seen The Headless Frenchman have sworn in their testimonies of some aspect of the apparition that is so horrible, so unthinkably macabre, so much so that none have ever been able to express this dreadful horror. So now, almost four hundred years later, it remains an unsolved mystery just what is the terrible secret of The Headless Frenchman.<br /><br />So why didn't Margaret Sutton write a Judy Bolton mystery about this classic Potter County legend? Well, maybe she would have if the series had continued beyond book number 38. And Judy certainly would have solved the mystery, found out the secret of the headless ghost, something supposedly even more horrific than the fact that he carries his own head!<br /><br />What could it be? Don't you kind of wonder? Darn, why wasn't that book ever written? Why didn't .... hey, why not try it out right here? Can't you just picture Judy and Peter and Honey and Horace when they were still teenagers in the 1930s stealing down the Twin Sisters Trail on the night of the October full moon in search of the ghost of the Headless Frenchman and its sinister secret? Can't you just hear Judy saying:</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /><br /><i>"</i><span style="color: purple;"> Ooh, this is so spooky! Will we or won't we see the ghost of the Headless Frenchman? I wonder!"</span></b></span><br />
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Peter Dobbs watched from behind as Judy led the way down the dark trail, her flashlight beam bobbing ahead. He grinned to himself in amusement. "There she goes again," he said in low tones to Horace and Honey behind him. "Judy, the 'I wonder' girl!" <br /><br />Honey sniffed loudly, showing apparent disdain. Her voice was shaky as she responded. "You're telling me? And she just 'wondered' us into this terrifying place. Oh Horace, let's go back to the highway and sit in the car. I'm scared!"</span></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Horace chuckled lightly. "Nonsense! No old headless ghost is going to scare me away. Don't worry, Peter and I are here to protect you. Besides, I want to get a picture of old Etienne Brule."<br /><br />He pointed to his camera, slung around his neck with flashbulb in place and ready to pop. "If I get a picture of that old Frenchman, the paper will put it on the front page! Can't you see the headlines: THREE HUNDRED TWENTY YEAR OLD MYSTERY SOLVED? Finding out the Headless Frenchman's secret will be a big feather in my cap."<br /><br />"If it doesn't scare us to death, you mean," Honey grumbled.<br /><br />"Come on now, Honey," Judy sighed impatiently, playing around the light beam on the trunks of the towering trees. "What could possibly be so horrible? That's just part of the legend, the Secret. These tales get told over and over, generation after generation, and everybody adds their little dramatic touch. A ghost so scary no one can talk about it? If that's really true, wow, I want to see it!"</span></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">"Judy's right," Peter agreed. "It's scary enough just being in these woods looking for a ghost who's carrying his head. Surely somebody way-back-when made up the part about the Secret, and since then almost everybody else who claimed to see Brule just went along with it. That's called 'confabulation'."<br /> </span></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">"Humpphh!" snorted Horace. "I'd rather the Secret be real. I need a headline, a front-pager all over Pennsylvania. Maybe it'd even make the papers in Ohio and New York."<br /><br />"You'll get a front-pager all right, Mr. Reporter," Honey shot back at him. " But it'll be more like 'FARRINGDON TEENAGERS FOUND DEAD FROM FRIGHT IN STATE FOREST NEAR TWIN SISTERS HOLLOW'. That's what everybody will be reading!"</span></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /> </span></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Judy smiled as she pulled her sweater closer around her neck. Good thing the night was pleasant, not cold and snowy like it could be in mid-October. It was a perfect night for ghost hunting! But she really didn't expect to see anything, not being a believer in ghosts. She'd already proved out a couple of them to be complete fakes. But this was one of the county's most famous legends and she had promised her friend Yaneeha to look into it. Yaneeha's ancestors were of the Susquehanna tribe and the girl did not believe the legend could be true.They had been peace-loving people and would not have attacked and killed the miners in such a manner, especially to behead a man. Judy had already solved several mysteries on her own, but never one that was three hundred and twenty years old. She was determined to get to the bottom of it!</span></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /> </span></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">"Oh lookit!" she suddenly blurted, her free hand clamping down on her chest in surprise as the flashlight beam snapped on to an object in the center of the trail ahead. "My goodness! It's a ... a ... a hand!"<br /><br />"A man's hand!" Peter gasped, bumping into Judy as she stopped dead in her tracks. "Cut off at the wrist!"<br /><br />Honey tried to stifle a scream, but it came out anyway sounding like the bleating of a goat.</span></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">"Shhhhh!" Horace soothed, placing his arm around her shoulders. "It can't be real. It's just some kind of prop or something."<br /><br />"Sure looks real to me," Judy mused, training the light beam on the object. And it did indeed look like a real hand, one belonging to a large man. <br /><br />Peter stooped down to see it better.<br /><br />"Don't touch it!" Honey warned. "This is way too scary. Gosh, I've gotta ..."<br /><br />Just then, at that very moment, from above and behind them came a great whooshing of air and a piercing cry that scared the bejabbers out of each one of them. They all gaped up in horror to see a great dark blur and the beating of wings as something, like some evil beast, swooped down to the trail, just missing Peter, and picked up the severed hand in a sharp beak illumined shakily by Judy's flashlight.<br /><br />Then, with another screech and another swoosh, the dark creature was gone, up into the blackness of the trees.<br /><br />"An owl!" Judy exclaimed.<br /><br />"Or an eagle," rapped Horace.<br /><br />"Right! A bird!" Honey cried. "And that was its food, I'll bet. It wasn't a man's hand, just a joint of some kind that the bird was eating earlier. He thought you were going to take it, Peter, when you stooped down to look."</span></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="color: purple;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">"Must be," Peter agreed, now back up straight, having jumped up when the bird swooped down. "Maybe it was a coyote's paw. Those big birds can kill wolves and large dogs."<br /><br />Horace's brows twisted in confusion. "It sure looked like a man's hand to me!"<br /><br />Judy's heart was thumping from the fright. "I'll say it did! Whew! That was scarier than seeing the Headless Frenchman himself."</span></b></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="color: purple;"><br />"Oh ... oh ... oh I don't know about that!" Honey croaked out in a terrified voice, pointing ahead down the trail. "Loooo ... oooo ... ooook!"<br /><br />The others' eyes shot straight ahead. In the middle of the darkness beyond they could see a figure, like a man's, standing behind one of the trees along the trailside. He was peering at them, or at least it seemed he was trying to. He had no head on his shoulders, so he really couldn't have seen them no matter how hard he tried!<br /><br />Judy shouted, "Hey you!" And she was off running, pinning the flashlight beam on the ghostly figure.<br /><br />Horace was right behind her, readying his camera. But Honey was frozen to the spot, too frightened to move. Peter grabbed her by the arm and pulled her along as he rushed ahead.<br /><br />Judy Bolton was sure the headless man was there. It couldn't be a trick or just her imagination. He was wearing buckskin clothes like Davy Crockett, like a frontiersman, and there definitely was no head on his shoulders. It made her skin prickle and she shivered. It had to be the ghost of the Frenchman Brule! And he was only twenty feet away!<br /><br />Fifteen!<br /><br />Now only ten!<br /><br />And then, suddenly, he was gone. <br /><br />Just like that, poof, totally gone!<br /><br />"Where'd he go?" Horace demanded as they arrived at the tree the ghostly figure had been standing by.<br /><br />Judy frowned in puzzlement, snapping her head this way and that, searching the dark woods with the flashlight beam. She realized she was trembling. This was sure scaring her. But it was exciting, too, and she forced a chuckle. <br /><br />"He was there, all right," she insisted. "But, poof, then he was gone. These woods sure are haunted. But there has to be a logical explanation!"<br /><br />"Yeeesh!" Horace suddenly groaned in an especially grave tone. "I don't know about that, Judy!" He pointed on down to the base of the tree. "For cryin' out loud, look at that!"<br /><br />Judy glanced down to where the trunk met the ground and she stepped back in astonishment as the flashlight beam hovered there. She bumped into Peter and Honey who had just appeared.<br /><br />"Good heavens!" she cried.<br /><br />"Eeee ... eeeew!" Honey screeched, her eyes popped wide.<br /><br />"My gosh!" Peter stammered. "It's a ... a ..."<br /><br />"A heart!" Judy broke in with a gasp. "It's a human heart ... and it's beating!"<br /><br />"Somebody tell me this isn't happening!" Honey shrilled, burying her face on Peter's shoulder.<br /><br />Horace's flashbulb popped, its brilliance exploding in the darkness. "We'll find out if it's for real when we develop this picture!"<br /><br />Judy had seen the end of the trail in the bright flash. "Come on, the hollow is just down there a bit. The ghost must have gone back to the mine. Let's go! We have to find out what's going on here!"<br /><br />She ran ahead leading the way, the flashlight beam showing the old tree trunks on either side of them. Moments later, huffing and puffing, they ran out into the clearing of the hollow. The brilliant light of the full moon flooded the little valley and glittered off the smooth surface of the lake. The crumbling beams of the old smelter ruins glinted back the light and nearby was the old mine entrance, oddly illuminated by a hazy greenish glow.<br /><br />Judy stopped and the others huddled around her as they gaped in disbelief at the entrance to the old silver mine. There, a figure began to materialize before their very eyes in the strange greenish glow. <br /><br />It was a man, the same man they had seen moments ago on the trail, the man wearing the buckskin clothes. The man who didn't have a head. But they could all see clearly now that he was holding it in his arms!<br /><br />"It's Etienne Brule, the Frenchman!" Peter cried. "Jeez, he really is holding his head!"<br /><br />"And just like the legend says," Judy put in breathlessly, "the apparition is even more horrible than only that!"<br /><br />His hands trembling, Horace popped in another flashbulb and raised his camera. "You bet it is! He's missing one of his hands and where his heart should be is a ... a ... oh cripes! ... a ...."<br /></b><b><br />Well, Judy Bolton fans, we'll just have to stop right there. After all, we can't reveal <i>The Secret of the Headless Frenchman </i>if the book was never actually written and Judy never figured out what was really going on in Twin Sisters Hollow on the night of the October full moon.<br /><br /> But it sure couldn't really be a ghost! We all know that, don't we?<br /><br />Don't we?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /> </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /> </b></span></div>stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-39519927180292352922012-04-17T21:39:00.000-07:002012-04-17T21:39:40.519-07:00RICK BRANT GOLDEN DRAGON<strong><span style="font-size: large;">THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN DRAGON<br />
or <span style="color: red;">THE SOUTH SEAS CITY OF DEATH MYSTERY</span></span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Coming this summer in paperback!</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Watch for news and info here!</span></strong><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-size: large;"><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 13.5pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-themecolor: text1;"><strong>THE WAY TO PALUA PAE<o:p></o:p></strong></span></div><span style="color: black;"><strong> </strong></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 13.5pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-themecolor: text1;"><strong>It’s the summer after the adventure of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Phantom Shark</i> and Rick Brant and his chum Scotty are back in the South Pacific again, visiting plantations on the New Guinea islands with Rick’s dad, Hartson Brant, and scientist Dr. Paul Warren, continuing the South Seas food study they had begun the year before on the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Tarpon</i>.<o:p></o:p></strong></span></div><span style="color: black;"><strong> </strong></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 13.5pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 9pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Late one sweltering jungle night, a few days after Hartson and Dr. Paul <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>leave for a side trip to the island of New Britain, Rick receives a terrifying message delivered by a maniacal stranger from a mysterious schooner anchored outside the reef. With it are his dad’s identification papers from The Spindrift Laboratories, informing Rick that his dad and Dr. Warren have been taken into captivity by a nefarious group of modern day pirates, a Chinese dragon syndicate tong.<o:p></o:p></strong></span></span></div><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 13.5pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-themecolor: text1;"><strong>Thus begins an exciting new Rick Brant fanfiction adventure set on the dangerous waters and in the steamy jungles of the Papua New Guinea Territory. Rick and Scotty set off to search for the missing scientists and, joined by a half-caste <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">kanaka</i> native boy, run into dangers every step of the way. Soon they learn the real reason for their presence in the South Pacific, not the food study but instead a search for a legendary City of Death on an island ‘lost’ in time where lies a secret power that will destroy the world if it is not discovered and harnessed in time.<o:p></o:p></strong></span></div><span style="color: black;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 13.5pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-themecolor: text1;"><strong>This is Rick Brant as you’ve never read him before. More excitement, more danger, more mystery, and more laughs too. Thrills abound with each chapter, including encounters with South Seas pirates, bush plane rides into <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>live volcanoes, entrapment in wartime Japanese caves filled with unmentionable horrors, and captivity by headhunter cannibals who plan to sacrifice the boys to the crocodile god they offended by bathing in a sacred jungle pool.<o:p></o:p></strong></span></div><span style="color: black;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 13.5pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 9pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-themecolor: text1;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">These are only some of the exciting events leading the way to the mysterious island that only shows itself to the world at random moments in time, and where the fate of the planet will be sealed if Rick and his chums can get there in time, find his dad and Dr. Warren, and stop the diabolical disaster that has been ordained in the outer reaches of the solar system since the very beginning of time.<o:p></o:p></span></strong></span></div><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"> </span></span>stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-38137404125491003592012-01-27T10:06:00.000-08:002012-01-27T17:38:45.122-08:00RICK BRANT GOLDEN DRAGON 10<div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">All chapters through chapter 10 are now available on this alternate site:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction/dragon"><span style="color: blue;">THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN DRAGON https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction/dragon</span></a></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN DRAGON</span><i><span style="color: #4f81bd; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">or THE SOUTH SEAS CITY OF DEATH MYSTERY</span></i></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><i><span style="color: #4f81bd; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Chapter Ten: LOOKOUT OVER VULCAN<br />
<br />
“I just don’t get it,” Scotty complained as he and Rick hoofed it up Causarina Avenue back out in the heat of the sun and the busy Rabaul traffic.<br />
<br />
“That Chinese man was just too informative,” he went on. “We just walked right in there and found out everything we wanted to know. It was way darn heck too easy! It just doesn’t set right with me.”<br />
<br />
Rick punched him playfully on the arm. “Relax. We can’t be distrustful of all the Chinese people we run into.”<br />
<br />
“Why not?” Scotty wanted to know. “They all act suspiciously, if you ask me. For all we know, that Mr. Wong could be a member of the tong!”<br />
<br />
“Come on now,” Rick cajoled him. “They’re not all bad. You know that. Jimmy is part Chinese.”<br />
<br />
<br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Scotty glowered at him. “Right. From his grandfather. And he was the <i>leader</i> of the tong!”<br />
<br />
“Don’t be so worried,” Rick warned. “As long as we’re on Dad’s trail, that’s all that matters. We’ll handle any complications as they come.”<br />
<br />
Scotty snorted and forced a grin. “Yah, like we always do.”<br />
<br />
They turned west on Papua Street and walked down toward the Chinatown area. The attractive government offices and commercial establishments gave way to more utilitarian-looking buildings as they approached the Oriental neighborhood, and the people in the street all but assumed the look of the Chinese.<br />
<br />
There were few of the dark-skinned natives here. Most of those milling about were young men dressed fashionably in the white tropical suits, dark hair slicked back and eyes slanted. There were white men, from Europe, Australia, and America, rough-looking characters, unshaven, with holstered guns swagging their hips and brimmed pith helmets and fedoras shading their eyes. They busily moved about the sidewalks in front of the shops whose windows were filled with displays of goods from all over Asia and the islands. Rick couldn’t help but wonder where they were all going, what they were all doing. <br />
<br />
“Those fellows must be the gold seekers and adventurers,” Scotty said, as if in answer to Rick’s thoughts. He chuckled. “They probably all come to Chinatown because the food is so good.”<br />
<br />
“And the rates cheaper,” Rick added, pointing to a big wood frame hotel on the next corner. “Look, there’s Ho Wah’s Hotel. Big place, huh? I bet rooms there are cheaper than at the European Hotel.”<br />
<br />
“And there’s Jimmy,” Scotty jerked his chin ahead. “He’s got a jeep. Sure looks like it’s been through a war.”<br />
<br />
Rick began to laugh. “Right. The same one you went through.”<br />
<br />
Scotty grunted. “But I don’t look that bad!”<br />
<br />
Rick grinned at him. “If you’d had to carry around all the Japs that thing did, you’d look every bit as bad.”<br />
<br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The boys crossed the street in the din of the traffic, voices, clangs and whistles, and above it all the constant beating of the drums from up in the hills. They walked over to Jimmy who was leaning against the beat-up vehicle by the curb in front of the hotel.<br />
<br />
“It’s a war relic,” their kanaka friend said, as if they’d had no idea it was. He stepped aside so they could view it better.<br />
<br />
The vehicle was painted a drab military green, had no top or front windshield, and the seats were covered with worn upholstery that certainly would not be very comfortable sitting on while driving on bumpy mountain roads.<br />
<br />
Jimmy handed Rick some bills and a receipt. He pointed across the street. “I got it at that garage, cheap. Doesn’t look like much but it drives good. I just took it for a few minutes spin around town. We can drop it off at an associate garage in Storms End.”<br />
<br />
“Looks great. Just so it gets us around,” Rick agreed, then went on to tell him what he and Scotty had learned at the European Hotel.<br />
<br />
“Wow!” Jimmy’s eyes widened with excitement. “The madman of Coastwatchers Hill? A legendary old Chinese man? This sure sounds mysterious, fellas. I’ve always wanted to see those caves up there and I guess that’s where we’re bound, huh? Do you have any idea why your dad would want to find this crazy man, Rick?”<br />
<br />
“Not any more than I knew why he wanted to find your grandmother.” Rick shrugged. “But we found out the reason for that, didn’t we? And I’m supposing we’ll find out the reason behind this, too.”<br />
<br />
“It’s part of the mystery,” Scotty said. “Just like your Grandma Sal is, Jimmy. An old American lady on Lateela, now it’s an old Chinese man here at Rabaul. Could be someone she knew back then … when … she …”<br />
<br />
Scotty words had faltered, then he clamped his mouth shut as their three sets of eyes locked together with anxious expressions. For a full half-minute they were speechless. Then, his voice strained and heavy, Jimmy blurted:<br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">“No, it can’t be. He’s dead!”<br />
<br />
Rick let out an excited breath. “Of course! I hadn’t thought of it. Johnny Fang! Your grandfather. What if it’s him?”<br />
<br />
“But it can’t be, Rick,” Scotty interposed before Jimmy could answer. “He died on Palua Pae.”<br />
<br />
“Did he?” Rick wondered aloud, his heart suddenly beginning to thump a tattoo in beat to the jungle drums up in the hills. “Jimmy, did Grandma Sal actually see Johnny Fang die?”<br />
<br />
Jimmy was standing there with his mouth agape, and Rick and Scotty saw a shudder run through him. He drew in a deep breath. “Man, this is too weird to even think about! Grandma Sal saw him disappear. Like into thin air by the glaring light in the middle of that cavern. Gosh, fellas, do you think …?” </span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">He looked at Rick and Scotty with an agonizing wonder, adding, “Do you think maybe he didn’t die?”<br />
<br />
“And somehow ended up here in those Japanese caves … a madman?” Rick concluded for him. “You bet I do, Jimmy. What other old Chinese man could it be, connected with your grandmother and the mystery of Palua Pae? And isn’t this port the first stop after that lost island?”<br />
<br />
Scotty nodded. “Right, Rick. It’s where the boat that picked up Grandma Sal first put in. Could be that Johnny Fang survived and got picked up too and taken here. Then went up to live in the caves, a madman because of what happened to him in that cave of light.”<br />
<br />
Jimmy leaned against the jeep, an astounded expression on his face. “I don’t believe it! Man, all these years I thought he was <i>dead</i>. Say it is him, Rick. How would your dad know to look for him? And to look for him here in Rabaul?”<br />
<br />
“How did he know to look for your grandmother on Lateela Island?” Rick countered. “My dad and Dr. Warren have information we can only guess at. Somebody else knows what happened on Palua Pae when Shanghai Sal and Johnny Fang were there. And whoever they are, they told the United Nations because they’ve got Dad and Dr. Warren out here tracking it all down.”<br />
<br />
Scotty grunted. “And told us they were checking out <i>coconuts!”</i><br />
<br />
Jimmy turned away from them and the boys could see he was deeply moved as he gazed up at the hills beyond Vulcan.<br />
<br />
He sighed. “And what the heck is it that they’re tracking down? Man, like the United Nations! Scientists! And right after the biggest war the world has ever known. It’s just got to be so big, so important. I can’t believe that my family is involved in something so big and … international … and<i> mysterious</i>!”<br />
<br />
Just then a swelling of the murmur of the crowd rose up around them and a buzz in the sky above caused them to turn their heads and look up.<br />
<br />
“Hey, it’s Pocka!” Rick exclaimed, pointing above at the familiar onrushing Dragon which seemed to be bearing down right on Chinatown.<br />
<br />
“Oh no!” Scotty blurted. “I thought we left that guy behind us.”<br />
<br />
“Ha!” Jimmy laughed. “No way behind us. He’ll be <i>on top</i> of us in a second!”<br />
<br />
As the people on the street all stopped to look up at the approaching biplane, its pilot pulled up short and roared straight up into the sky in a twisting spiral directly above Ho Wah’s Hotel. The noise of the crowd swelled and cheers broke out in appreciation of the daredevil stunt.<br />
<br />
Rick shot a clenched fist up into the air, shouting, “Go, Pocka! Do your stuff!”<br />
<br />
A Chinese woman who had stopped next to the jeep to watch the airplane looked at them with an excited smile.<br />
<br />
“You know Pocka Poco?” she asked with a laughing lilt.<br />
<br />
“Darn right we do!” Scotty answered. “He flew us here earlier today. We were just on that very airplane.”<br />
<br />
“Oh, me never go on it,” the woman said, gaping back up high into the sky. “I afraid! But he always do tricks for Chinatown when he fly away!”<br />
<br />
“Sounds like Pocka,” Jimmy grinned, watching the Dragon as it shot up so high it seemed like they wouldn’t been able to see it anymore.<br />
<br />
But just in time, while they could still see it, the plane leveled off into a quick rollover and then shot back down straight at them, whirling in a hurricane-speed death spiral right at the center of Chinatown.<br />
<br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Whoaaa … oaaa, Pocka!” Rick boomed out, as the excited crowd clapped and cheered.<br />
<br />
“Yow! He’s gonna crash right into the hotel,” Jimmy groaned. “How can he do these crazy stunts and stay in one piece?”<br />
<br />
“He’ll level out right at the psychological moment,” Scotty told them. “You wait. Just when we can’t stand it anymore.”<br />
<br />
Some of the crowd were shouting and screaming now, afraid the pilot might not be able to stop, others were pointing and laughing for they’d seen this done before and knew it would come to no harm.<br />
<br />
When it seemed that the pilot could go no further in the spinning spiral, he did go farther, and the crowd sucked in a collective “Oooh!” and held its breath. Rick was clenching his fists so hard he could feel his nails biting into his palms.<br />
<br />
“Come on, Pocka,” he groaned. “Level off, man. You’ll crash!”<br />
<br />
Scotty slapped the hood of the jeep. “Yo, <i>Jack! </i>Stop it! Straighten out! Now!”<br />
<br />
And then, with a huge whoosh, when it seemed like there wasn’t a second left and that the Dragon would surely crash right into the hotel, the pilot swooped straight and did a series of zigzags and hops while the crowd applauded and cheered until the plane disappeared into the distance.<br />
<br />
“He crazy man!” the Chinese woman said to the boys after letting go a long breath she’d been holding. Then she bowed slightly and, with a smile, walked on.<br />
<br />
“Crazy as a mad kangaroo,” Jimmy grunted in agreement. “Remind me never to go on a flight with that guy again!”<br />
<br />
Scotty nodded eagerly. “You bet. Once was totally enough for me too!”<br />
<br />
Rick watched as the crowd began to move on and the people went back to what they had been doing. “He wouldn’t be able to do that back home in the States,” he said thoughtfully. “There must be little, if any, aviation regulations here.”<br />
<br />
“Probably none, not yet,” Jimmy said, leaning back against the jeep. “We’ve only had planes around here in New Guinea on a regular basis since the war.” His mouth set in a firm straight line as his face grew serious. “So what do you guys say? Shall we eat lunch and clean up or should we go right on up to Coastwatchers Hill? We can get food and a shower-bath at Ho Wah’s.”<br />
<br />
Rick shrugged his shoulders. “We sure could use a clean-up and food sounds good. But I’m really anxious to get up into those caves.”<br />
<br />
“Do you think Dad and Dr. Warren could still be there?” Scotty asked.<br />
<br />
“Maybe. How can you even take a guess? We’re so in the dark about all of this. I just think it’s best to follow up this lead as quickly as possible.”<br />
<br />
“We can get food to-go at Ho Wah’s,” Jimmy suggested, “and catch up with cleaning up as we go along.”</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><br />
</div><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">“Good idea,” Scotty grinned in agreement, adding, “Especially that food to-go!”<br />
<br />
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">The boys swung into action and went into the hotel where they ordered the food and freshened up in the rest room as best they could. They brushed their teeth, took their quinine pills for the day, gazed longingly at the shower-bath room available, but knew they just didn’t have the time. On the way out, after picking up the food order, Jimmy bought a local English language newspaper, and then they went a few doors down the street to an outfitters where they bought a couple lanterns and an extra flashlight to use in the caves.<br />
<br />
They stopped next at a filling station on the way out of town for instructions, and Rick got a map and a tourist brochure as Jimmy filled the tank and Scotty pretended to wash the front windshield that wasn’t there. <br />
<br />
As Jimmy drove up Tunnel Hill Road, Rick could tell that Scotty was still annoyed. He was suspicious of everything and everybody, and rightly so, Rick figured. He was too. But as long as they were moving ahead on the trail of his dad, he just wasn’t going to worry about it. Not now when maintaining some kind of clarity of mind was so important.<br />
<br />
The jungle foliage closed in around them as they drove up switchbacks to the higher elevations. Here and there open areas offered views of nearby Vulcan, smoking away and looking close enough to touch. The volcano was mostly barren, covered with ash and having only patches of the jungle growth. Beyond it were glimpses of the harbor and the other volcanoes, the wide cloudless blue sky, and the sparkling waters of the Bismarck Straits.<br />
<br />
<br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Signs in English and the native language pointed the way upward to Coastwatchers Hill. The jeep bounced along the bumpy dirt road. It was uncomfortable riding but the engine purred smoothly as if it was brand new. Scotty couldn’t help wondering about the Japanese soldiers and how many of them might have ridden in the jeep during the war.<br />
<br />
Soon they were up to the high ridges and the road ended at a large level area, a ragged field overlooking the massive cone of Vulcan with its gushing plume of smoke and ash. <br />
<br />
“Nice view,” Scotty commented, as Jimmy pulled the jeep to a stop next to two big artillery guns near the cliff edge of the clearing. <br />
<br />
“This is the coastwatchers lookout,” Rick said, reading from the brochure. “It was the headquarters area for the Japanese military and entranceway into the tunnels.” He pointed ahead out past the harbor. “Those islands out there in the straits are the Duke of York Islands and, on a clear day sometimes, you can see the shores of New Ireland across the way.”<br />
<br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Scotty grimaced, squinting his eyes to look at the islands ahead and search for a distant shore beyond. “That’s another thing about this whole place New Guinea. It’s all a tropical jungle filled with natives, and some of them pretty darn primitive. But all the important place names are European – British and Dutch and German. It’s like some kind of strange oooh-blah-dee land. Nothing jives right. Why aren’t these people here in control of their own lands?”<br />
<br />
“It’s ‘empire’, Scotty,” Jimmy said, turning off the engine. “The Germans and Dutch and British came out this way for conquest. The Portuguese, too, and the French in many places, the Spanish up in the Philippines. Heck, it was easy for them to beat down the uncivilized natives and take over.<br />
<br />
“But it’s getting better,” he went on, standing up to peer out at the vista and get a better view. The breeze began to ruffle through his curly blond hair. “Someday New Guinea will be free and its people their own masters. Australia will let us go. But the way it is now, we still need her. Papuans have a long way to go yet before they can control their own destiny.”<br />
<br />
“And maybe you’ll be president one day,” Rick suggested with a chuckle. “Scotty and I will come out here twenty years from now and visit you at the presidential mansion.”<br />
<br />
Jimmy looked thoughtful as he scrutinized the smoldering cone of Vulcan. “Give me <i>thirty</i> years,” he laughed. “If I decide to go into politics I want to have some fun first!”<br />
<br />
<br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Rick climbed out and was inspecting the big guns, glancing back and forth at the brochure in his hand. “This is a pair of Japanese anti-aircraft guns,” he told the others. “Seventy-five millimeter ones. And there’s another.” He pointed down the cliff edge about fifty feet away. “That one there, it’s twenty-five millimeter. And some others … those!” He gestured to the hillside behind where two big guns rested right at the edge of the bush. “Those must be the anti-tank guns. They’re different.”<br />
<br />
“There is supposed to be a lot of munitions around here,” Jimmy said, jumping to the ground. “The caves are loaded with all kinds of stuff.”<br />
<br />
Scotty swung his legs over the side and joined them on the mud-packed grass. “Good! Maybe we can find some arms to take with us on the way to Storms End.”<br />
<br />
He cocked his head to listen to the sound of the drums coming from the hills behind. “This is starting to spook me out, boys. Here we are in New <i>Britain</i> listening to <i>jungle</i> drums, gazing into a <i>volcano</i> while on our way to <i>Japanese</i> caves! It’s totally weirdsville, guys. We need some guns!”<br />
<br />
Rick laughed and punched his arm. “What you need is some food, buster. You can really get far out and grumpy when you’re hungry.” He reached into the jeep and pulled out the big paper sack holding the Chinese food from Ho Wah’s. “Here. Eat! You’ll feel better.”<br />
<br />
Scotty took the bag from Rick. “Darn right I will! Man, this stuff smells great,” he grinned, sniffing at it. “Good enough to make us all turn Chinese.” He chuckled, glancing quickly at Jimmy. “Cripes, you’re already halfway there!”<br />
<br />
Jimmy grinned happily back. “One quarter, Scotty. Not half. I’m half <i>kanaka</i> from my dad. One quarter American from Grandma Sal and one quarter Chinese from Johnny Fang.”<br />
<br />
Rick turned to look at the hillside where the entrances to the caves were hidden behind the jungle growth.<br />
<br />
“Johnny Fang!” he grunted. “Let’s eat, boys. Then we can go into those caves and see if we can find that mad old Chinaman. He may just be the key to this whole crazy mystery!"<br />
<br />
The boys sat down at the edge of the cliff and attacked the containers of food. Their appetites were hardy; they hadn’t eaten since early morning and it was already past lunchtime. They admired the view and discussed all the strange aspects of the case as they devoured eggrolls, fried rice, lemon chicken, pepper steak, and paper cups of tea packed nicely for them in a bottle.<br />
<br />
A few minutes into the meal and they were already all three feeling better. The delicious rich and salty food was just what they needed to charge them up from the stress of the long night, the escape from the pirates, and the wild daredevil flight to Rabaul.<br />
<br />
Presently Rick noticed a couple native boys watching them from the bush. All he could see was their dark faces and wide eyes, and he suspected they were far more interested in the food they were eating than in them themselves. <br />
<br />
He gestured toward the boys. “Jimmy, tell those kids to come over. Maybe we can learn something from them.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, they might know the madman if they hang around up here,” Scotty figured.<br />
<br />
Jimmy stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled at the boys across the clearing. Then he gestured for them to come over. They edged out of the foliage into the sunlight and looked over at the boys warily. They were dressed only in ragged short pants, with no shirts and no shoes. One was tall and appeared to be a teenager. The other was short and younger, maybe nine or ten years old.<br />
<br />
“Brotha! Brotha!” Jimmy called, gesturing again with his arm. “Cumalong dis place. Dis fellas heah hokay!”<br />
<br />
The two boys smiled tentatively after hearing that and began to run across the clearing.<br />
<br />
“They seem to understand that jive,” Scotty grinned.<br />
<br />
“All the kids know pidgin now,” Jimmy explained. “At least one of the several forms of it. Even kids from the jungle villages. It’s been around for ages now and was especially used a lot in the years between the two great wars.”<br />
<br />
The native boys ran up and stopped at the cliff edge near the boys, grinning eagerly as they looked hungrily at the food. They both had mops of curly dark hair and the taller one was skinny, but they both looked well fed enough.<br />
<br />
Rick told Jimmy, “Ask them if they’re hungry.”<br />
<br />
Jimmy grinned back at the smiling boys. “Brotha! Brotha!” he addressed them again, then rattled off a chain of words in the local kanaka tongue.<br />
<br />
The tall one responded and the younger boy looked on eagerly and a conversation ensued with lightning quick dialogue that sounded like a lot of mumbo jumbo to Rick and Scotty.<br />
<br />
“Yes, they are very hungry,” Jimmy explained at length. “They live in a village beyond this mountain and often come up to play in the caves. They smelled the food and were spying on us, hungry for some.”<br />
<br />
“They can have the rest of it,” Scotty said. “We’ve had our fill. There is plenty left over.”<br />
<br />
“Right,” Rick agreed. “Tell them to sit down and eat. We can ask them about the caves. If they play in there, they ought to know a lot about them.”<br />
<br />
Jimmy translated and the boys sat down excitedly and assaulted the cartons of food as Rick and Scotty passed them over. They ate with their hands, quickly and neatly as could be expected, and they gulped down the tea that Scotty poured for them in the paper cups.<br />
<br />
Rick grinned as he watched them. “Barefoot and hungry,” he laughed. “Ask them what they know about the caves, Jimmy. And the madman, too.”<br />
<br />
Jimmy rattled off another barrage of expressive syllables and both boys nodded and laughed in high pitched cackles. Then the older boy pointed back to the hillside and said, “You betch’um! Cuckoo nut Chinaman dem Jap caves belongem!” Then he reverted to kanaka to tell Jimmy even more.<br />
<br />
When the boy stopped speaking, Jimmy turned to Rick and Scotty. “They play in the caves all the time and know them well. The madman lives in there. As long as they can remember, he’s been in there, and the old folks say he’s been living here from many years ago before that.<br />
<br />
“But,” Jimmy went on, frowning a little, “they haven’t seen him in a few days and were just now in the caves looking around for him. They are brothers and sometimes their mother sends them over with food for the old Chinese man. It appears that the village people kind of look after him.”<br />
<br />
Rick’s brows began to furrow. “Ask when the last time they saw him was.”<br />
<br />
The question was fielded and Jimmy translated the energetic response. “They saw him five days ago, having brought him a bowl of <i>optaki</i> their mother made. He was very happy to receive the food and as a reward showed the boys a trolley system in the caves with tracks and cables and pushed them for a ride in a car. But since then he has not been in his cave or anywhere in the tunnels. At least, <i>they </i>haven’t seen him.”<br />
<br />
Rick looked at Scotty, slowly shaking his head. “He’s been gone since the day Dad and Dr. Warren came up here. What do you make of it?”<br />
<br />
Scotty pondered for a minute, tossing a stone over the cliff. Then he shrugged. “Hopefully it means they found the old man and took him along with them wherever they were headed.” He turned to Jimmy, his lips pressed tightly together in thought. “Ask them if they saw two white men around here, Rick’s dad and Dr. Warren.”<br />
<br />
Both boys jibber-jabbered in length in answer to the question. Afterward, Jimmy looked at Rick and Scotty with a grim expression. “They were not here that day. But other boys from the village had come up and they saw several vehicles drive into this field and park. Small trucks and a jeep. A bunch of young Chinese men jumped out and ran into the caves, all of them bearing guns. The boys were so frightened that they all ran back home to the village.”<br />
<br />
Rick looked at the two dark-skinned boys still happily eating the Chinese food. He groaned. “That sure doesn’t sound good! My dad and Dr. Warren come up here and then follows a band of Chinese … mercenaries?”<br />
<br />
“Or maybe pirates or tong members? One and the same,” Scotty huffed. He looked angrily back at the road they had come up on, adding, “Mr. Wong from the European Hotel sent Dad and Dr. Warren up here, and then maybe he called the chink gunmen to go up after them? I didn’t trust that guy from the moment I first saw him! And now he sent <i>us</i> up here! Those slant-eyed eggheads might be on their way up right now to get us!”<br />
<br />
He clamped his mouth shut abruptly, looking at Jimmy. “Sorry, bud. Didn’t mean to offend you about the slanted eyes.”<br />
<br />
Jimmy looked at him and laughed. “Scotty, you couldn’t offend me if you tried. Because if you did, I’d have to beat you up really bad. And I like you too much to do that!”<br />
<br />
Scotty made a sour face and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t push your luck, Jimmy <i>Tomato.</i> I might have to pick you up and throw you over into Vulcan’s cone!”<br />
<br />
Rick scrambled to his feet and got between the two of them. “Knock it off, tough guys. We have a whole lot more to worry about than which one of you bozos can do the worst damage.”<br />
<br />
He shot a quick glance at Jimmy. “Ask those kids if anything’s been amiss at the old man’s cave since he’s been gone. Anything missing? Maybe signs of a struggle?”<br />
<br />
Jimmy questioned the boys and they chatted noisily, shaking their heads in the universal sign of No.<br />
<br />
“Everything is the same,” Jimmy explained. “His food supplies and clothes are still there, and his guns and ammunition.”<br />
<br />
“Guns? Ammo?” Scotty’s eyes widened at that. “We’d better vamanoose to that cave and arm ourselves before the tong boys come up here after us.”<br />
<br />
“Exactly what I’m thinking,” Rick agreed. “The madman will have done us at least some good if we can get his guns.”<br />
<br />
Scotty pushed himself to his feet. “What I don’t get,” he was saying, “is why the madman is just a legend down in town. But up here in the hills everyone seems to know him and they even bring him food, as if he was just the old man next door!”<br />
<br />
“It’s two different worlds, Scotty,” Jimmy said as he got up. “The people down in Rabaul are far more civilized than the tribal people in these mountains. Naturally they don’t believe a lot of the strange tales they hear from them.”<br />
<br />
The kanaka boys had finished up the food and Rick began picking up the cartons and wrappings and placing them in the paper sack Scotty held open for him.<br />
<br />
Rick said, “Ask these boys if they’ll show us the way to the old man’s cave.”<br />
<br />
After being questioned, the boys readily agreed and got to their feet with happy smiling faces, having partaken in a food feast they’d never known the likes of before. After they had cleaned up the site, Scotty put the refuse in the back of the jeep.<br />
<br />
“Should we hide this vehicle in case our tong pirate chums come looking for us?” he asked.<br />
<br />
“That’s a good idea. We’d better,” Rick agreed.<br />
<br />
The taller native boy started jabbering excitedly, having been watching them closely.<br />
<br />
<br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Smart kid,” Jimmy said. “He understood that. He says there’s a short dead-end cave right up in the bush we can park it in. Come on. Let’s get going!”<br />
<br />
“You bet!” Rick jumped into the jeep to drive it across the lookout field as Scotty and Jimmy and the boys hoofed it over to the bush. He followed closely behind them, an eager thrill coursing through him in anticipation of what lay ahead in the caves.<br />
<br />
He didn’t expect to find his dad and Dr. Warren there, or the old Chinese man. No, from what they’d heard from the native boys it seemed like they were gone, maybe on their own or more probably captured. But he did hope to find some kind of clue as to what had happened, where they may have gone, or where they may have been taken!</span><i><span style="color: red; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
<br />
Chapter Eleven coming soon!</span></i><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial Black,sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
<br />
<br />
</span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"></div>stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-2106305892014368252012-01-15T22:16:00.000-08:002012-01-15T22:16:54.869-08:00RICK BRANT GOLDEN DRAGON 9<h2 class="date-header">All chapters through chapter 9 are now available on this alternate site:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction/dragon">THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN DRAGON https://sites.google.com/site/rickbrantfanfiction/dragon</a></h2><h2 class="date-header"><br />
</h2><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN DRAGON</span></span><br />
or <i style="color: blue;">THE SOUTH SEAS CITY OF DEATH MYSTERY</i></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span><span style="font-size: medium;">A Rick Brant fan-written adventure from 1959, a sequel to <i>The Phantom Shark</i>. </span></span></b><span style="color: blue; font-size: medium;"><b><i>To get all the chapters, click on 'Golden Dragon' under Labels on side panel. </i></b></span><b><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #660000; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">Chapter Nine: THE MADMAN OF COASTWATCHERS HILL<br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;"></span></span></span></span></b><b><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #660000;"><br />
</span><span style="color: black;">South of the equator and north of Australia is the land of New Guinea, vaguely known around the world as the land of the headhunter and the missionary, the coconut plantations and steaming jungles, and nearly inaccessible mountain goldfields that attract not only gold seekers but also thieves, cutthroats, and all extreme and fanatical adventurers alike.<br />
<br />
Rick Brant knew that before the First World War the islands had belonged to Germany and were known as the Bismarck Archipelago. After Germany’s defeat in that war, the land was given to Australia to govern as a 'mandated territory'. Rabaul, the capital, had been a pivotal location in the recent Second World War. Occupied early on by the Japanese, tens of thousands of enemy troops and Allied prisoners of war had been present there. Not only was the town a constant destination for seekers of thrills and adventure of all kinds, but it also had proved historically important in the winning of world freedom from the aggressive governments that would have enslaved so many.<br />
<br />
Rick tensed now as Pocka banked the Dragon and headed down toward the big bay off which lay the landlocked harbor guarded by the volcanoes and the forbidding background mountain ranges. He could see schooners, freighters, fishing trawlers and luggers, and even native outriggers as they moved through the aquamarine waters to and fro from the wharves and piers on the quay below the town. He suddenly realized that the airplane was heading directly toward the volcano that Jimmy had called Vulcan. The mountain’s monstrous plume of smoke and ash was billowing straight up into the sunny blue sky.<br />
<br />
"Whoa ... Pocka!" Rick blurted out. "Don't go flying us into that volcano now!"<br />
<br />
"Doncha worry, Jack!" the pilot shouted above the roar of the engine. "Just a little look-see, boys!"<br />
<br />
"Wow!" Jimmy exclaimed, leaning over Rick to look out the port side window. "Vulcan is really blowin' his top today!"<br />
<br />
The plane raced down toward the mountain as if Pocka were going to attack it. Vulcan's slopes were all of a dull brownish gray, probably leagues deep with ash, Rick figured. Banking even more steeply, the Dragon flew right to the rim of the volcano's pit.<br />
<br />
"Yowzuz!" Scotty chuckled uneasily, peering into the very center as the plane wing-hopped the rim. "There's the fires of Hades, right down in there, chums!"<br />
<br />
Rick caught a quick glimpse of what looked like 'fire and brimstone' before Vulcan's thundering plume got in the way and Pocka had to level off and fly outward to escape its massive width.<br />
<br />
Then the Dragon shot across the harbor entrance and Pocka boomed, "Hey, you blighters! How about a couple rollovers on the way to Tavurver?"<br />
<br />
"No way!" Jimmy exploded.<br />
<br />
"You said more trick flying!" Rick reminded him.<br />
<br />
"Nixit, buster! We've had enough," Scotty said in growling tones, leaning forward.<br />
<br />
"Okay, okay," Pocka laughed, acing right straight down now at the smoking Tavurver. “No rollovers. Just a hop, a skip, and a jump!"<br />
<br />
Then, before the boys even knew what was happening, the plane seemingly fell straight down with a mighty <i>whoosh</i>, banged hard as if it had hit a rock bottom, bopped back up high with a soaring climb, fell again in the same manner and then banked sharply as the boys all shouted and yelled and Pocka laughed at them.<br />
<br />
"Sheez!" Rick couldn't help but start laughing too, even though every joint in his body felt like it had just been jarred loose. "Man, that was like a bucking bronco!"<br />
<br />
Jimmy's eyes were wide with disbelief. "I thought the plane was gonna break in half!"<br />
<br />
"The<i> pilot</i> is gonna get broke in half!" Scotty jeered, but a twinkling in his eyes belied his tone.<br />
<br />
Pocka turned back to look at them with another wolfish grin. "Just a little dip into Tavurver, boys, and then I'll put a freeze on it."<br />
<br />
And with that, he turned back to face the looming volcano and shot the plane down at its rim. The boys all pushed back, teeth gritting, hands gripping the arm rests, as the Dragon flew into the volcano, down past the rim and into its monstrous fiery pit.<br />
<br />
Rick saw them engulfed by flaming light and shadow as the plane circled the mountain's interior, barely missing the billowing smoke rising from the cauldron below.<br />
<br />
"Awesome ...," he heard Jimmy breathe, amazed, thrilled, frightened.<br />
<br />
Scotty gaped around at the flickering flaming darkness, for once in his life totally speechless.<br />
<br />
Rick's heart was thumping from the brazen danger and terror of flying into an active volcano and, too, from the absolute mind-boggling thrill of it!<br />
<br />
"Way to go, Pocka!" he heard himself gush enthusiastically. "This is a total killer diller!"<br />
<br />
Pocka kept on chuckling. "I knew I could get you to squeal happy. Whammo!"<br />
<br />
And with that, he hugged the Dragon close to the shaft of hot billowing ash and flew circling around it up and out of the cone into the blue sunny daylight. As the plume widened even further, he flew off away from it and over the tops of the other volcanoes that surrounded the harbor.<br />
<br />
Rick, Scotty, and Jimmy exchanged glances, grinning at each other.<br />
<br />
Scotty shrugged his shoulders. “He's a one-man airshow!"<br />
<br />
Jimmy pulled at his restraining safety belt. "With a really <i>captive </i>audience."<br />
<br />
Rick felt himself still tingling all all over. "He takes really reckless chances. But I sure have to give him a big tip for that inside-the-volcano dip!"<br />
<br />
Pocka's voice clapped out as the Dragon shot downward. "Rabaul town, dead ahead!"<br />
<br />
The plane zoomed down so fast it took the little that was left of their breath away, and Pocka tree-topped right over the town seemingly so close they could almost touch the coconut palms. Over the quay and wharves the Dragon flew, out to the waters of the harbor, close enough to see the eyes of the people below. He flew circles around the harbor, swooping and dipping, obviously announcing to the citizens of Rabaul that he had come back.<br />
<br />
"Where are you going to land?" Rick asked, now noticing that the plane was headed back toward the smoking Tavurver. <br />
<br />
"Lukanai Airport." Pocka pointed straight ahead.<br />
<br />
Rick blinked. He could see the small airport just a little on the town side of the volcano where a handful of light aircraft were parked around a small wooden terminal building. He could feel himself tense up again.<br />
<br />
"But Pocka! You have floats on this plane!"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, man!" Jimmy joined in. "You need to land on <i>water</i>!"<br />
<br />
"Right! Not on the land!" Scotty cried, as the Dragon rushed onto the shore and quickly ate up the terrain below on its way to the airport.<br />
<br />
Pocka chuckled and guffawed and slapped heartily at his instrument panel. "One last surprise, chaps!"<br />
<br />
The boys looked at each other in confused and anxious wonder, not knowing what to think, except that in a minute the plane, fitted with floats, would be landing on what looked like a paved runway!<br />
<br />
Rick vaguely remembered hearing that you could land on grass with some floats, but that was pavement of some kind ahead - tarmac, gravel, or stone. It sure as heck wasn't grass!<br />
<br />
"Wheels, fellas, <i>wheels</i>!" Pocka chirped out. "These floats are fitted with wheels!"<br />
<br />
Then he flipped down a lever and seconds later made the smoothest landing possible on the primitively paved runway, chuckling to himself as the boys slumped back in relief.<br />
<br />
"That's right," Rick sighed. "Some floats have wheels in them. Flip the switch and they come out for landing on land."<br />
<br />
"Which, of course," Scotty jeered, "'Whammo Man' here doesn't tell us till the last possible second!"<br />
<br />
Jimmy grinned. "Heck no. He's intent on giving you your money's worth! That or a nervous breakdown!"<br />
<br />
The boys and Pocka were still laughing as he pulled the Dragon to a stop by the small terminal. "Well here you are, eggheads," he said, pointing down a dirt road that led along the shore. "It's about a half mile to town down that track. I don't see any taxis here so you'll have to walk. Then you can begin the old beguine and get on with finding your missing friends."<br />
<br />
"A walk will do us good," Scotty remarked as the boys loosened their belts. "We've been riding in boats and planes for two days!"<br />
<br />
Rick turned to Jimmy and asked, "How do we get to Storms End from here?"<br />
<br />
"We can go around the peninsula by boat or drive up through the mountains. The roads should be dry and graded this time of year."<br />
<br />
"Is there somewhere around to rent a car or a jeep?" Rick then asked the pilot.<br />
<br />
Engine off, Pocka stood up and turned to face them. "There's a garage by Ho Wah's Hotel in Chinatown. They usually have some to let, left over Japanese war trucks and jeep-like vehicles."<br />
<br />
"And what about the European Hotel?" Scotty asked. “That's where Rick's dad and his friend would have checked in."<br />
<br />
"Stay right on that shore road," Pocka instructed, "and you'll run right into it. But let me tell you," he paused and frowned a little and scratched his mop of hair. "If you're going to drive up into the hills, you'd better be careful and <i>armed</i>. I know you boys know the score, but there's been lots of trouble up there lately near the goldfields with the Wambutu tribes."<br />
<br />
Jimmy nodded. "I've read about it in the papers. They don't like the gold hunters digging up all their land, or what they consider to be their land," he explained to Rick and Scotty. "They're pretty primitive up there, the Wambutu, and they've been raiding the gold camps causing trouble."<br />
<br />
“We’ll just stay on the roads and steer clear of them,” Rick said with finality. There would be no reason to linger in the mountains and the bush unless they found a clue of some sorts that would support doing so.<br />
<br />
The boys climbed out of the airplane and exchanged farewells with Pocka, Scotty pounding the pilot’s shoulders a few times just for the heck of it. Rick paid the man and gave him a generous tip.<br />
<br />
“That’s for all the stunts,” Rick told him. “You scared the heck out of us but it sure was fun and totally worth it.”<br />
<br />
Scotty and Jimmy slung the backpacks over their shoulders and the threesome crossed the runway and headed to the shore road in the blazing heat. Rick glanced around at the surrounding hills and smoking volcanoes.<br />
<br />
“Yow!” He expounded emphatically. “It’s hotter here than ever! Do these volcanoes add to the temperature, Jimmy?”<br />
<br />
Jimmy looked across the harbor to Tavurver and then back ahead to Vulcan. “Probably not, Rick. The smoke and ash go way up into the atmosphere and don’t normally come back down here unless it’s a really super eruption. But we’re several hundred miles closer to the equator here than down on Lateela Island, so it’s probably just that much hotter.”<br />
<br />
The hike down the shore road offered pleasant vistas of the busy Simpson Harbour and the ring of volcanoes that surrounded it. A couple old British-make cars passed them by and also a pickup truck, its bed filled with laughing and waving kanaka children whose curly mops of hair were every shade from blond to black.<br />
<br />
Jimmy waved at them and shouted, “Yo brotha kiddo! Dis fellas belongem allatogetha Rabaul Town lots much!”<br />
<br />
Rick raised his brows with a grin. “You mean we’re official citizens of Rabaul?”<br />
<br />
Jimmy laughed happily. “You betcha. For today at least.” He pointed to the town ahead and then up beyond it to the mountains. “See those ridges? The Japs dug out around three hundred miles of tunnels in those hills. They hid out in them during the Allied bomb raids in the war. They had almost one hundred thousand Japanese soldiers and countless prisoners of war holed up in there. There were so many Japanese military here it took two years to evacuate them after the war ended.”<br />
<br />
Scotty shuddered. “I was in some island caves in the war during bombing raids and didn’t like it at all. Small caves! Ugh! I’d rather be out in the jungle facing the bombs!”<br />
<br />
The rumblings of the volcanoes could be heard along with clangs and horns and bells from boats out on the water. From the hills up behind the town came the steady beating of drums.<br />
<br />
“That’s the jungle wireless,” Jimmy said, noticing Rick cock his head to listen. “You don’t hear it on Lateela because the native population is small. But here the numbers are big and they communicate all day long by drum.”<br />
<br />
The barren fields soon gave way to lovely tree-lined streets leading up into town from the water. A beautiful white sand beach led along to the quay section of the harbor with its piers and wharves and cargo sheds. European-style bungalows lined the streets shaded by high coconut palms and flowering trees, and exotic hedges of flowering shrubs fenced the perimeters. The perfume of flowers was heavy in the air.<br />
<br />
Young colorful natives in lap-laps, sarongs, the Mother Hubbard dresses, or shorts and jerseys milled around, some with colorful flowers behind their ears and their woolly mops died a rainbow of colors. Police boys in white caps and blue shorts directed traffic on street corners and society matrons in the latest fashions from Sydney mingled with planters and businessmen in their white tropical suits.<br />
<br />
“What a fine town this is!” exclaimed Rick, looking up the wide Causarina Avenue where they had stopped to get their bearings.<br />
<br />
“Sort of looks like a little London,” Scotty suggested, eying the traditional-looking commercial and government buildings.<br />
<br />
Jimmy chuckled. “Right. A little London, a little Paris, a little Sydney. And a whole lot New Guinea. That’s Rabaul!”<br />
<br />
Flashy modern British and American cars were driving in the wide avenue. Trucks, war vehicles, and carts pulled by horse and oxen were carrying cargo up from the wharves.<br />
<br />
“There it is!” Rick pointed out the European Hotel on the next corner. It was a large bungalow affair, shaded by coconut palms and high grotesque Australian pines. Thick flowering hedges surrounded the building giving it a measure of privacy from the busy street.<br />
<br />
A police boy at the corner halted the traffic so they could cross and Rick led them over to the hotel. They stopped in front of the establishment and Rick pulled some bills out of his wallet and handed them to Jimmy.<br />
<br />
“These are American dollars. They ought to go far here. Go to that garage in Chinatown and see about getting us a vehicle. Scotty and I will check out the hotel.”<br />
<br />
Jimmy nodded and pocketed the money. “Aye, aye, suh! Meet me up there when you’re done.” He pointed vaguely to the northwest. “Chinatown is two blocks up and two blocks over. You can’t miss Ho Wah’s Hotel. It’s the center of everything.”<br />
<br />
Jimmy took off and Rick and Scotty walked through the break in the hedge down a crushed coral path to the large veranda of the hotel. The front yard was festooned with shrubs and hedges all bearing a cornucopia of lush blooming flowers.<br />
<br />
Scotty grunted and twitched his nose. “Sheez! This place smells as awful as the perfume counters at Saks Fifth Avenue!”<br />
<br />
Rick chuckled, looking around at all the exotic plants. “These flowers are probably all rare tropical varieties that most Americans would go bananas for.”<br />
<br />
Scotty grinned. “Bananas I’m all for. At least you can eat them. But all these flowers here do is … <i>smell!</i>”<br />
<br />
They climbed the steps to the veranda where guests were relaxing in the shade and a little breeze off the harbor offered pleasant refreshment. The front door was propped open and Rick pushed in the screen door as the boys entered the quiet lobby.<br />
<br />
The place was nicely fitted with a blend of South Pacific and traditional European furnishings, and it looked like someone’s home. A young Chinese woman in a fashionable frock was behind the counter across the room and the boys walked over to her. She greeted them formally with a little bow and Rick said hello and then got right down to business.<br />
<br />
“I’m looking for my dad, Mr. Hartson Brant,” he told her, “and his companion Dr. Paul Warren. It’s possible they checked in here recently, within the last several days. They were bound here for Rabaul the last time we saw them.”<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;">The woman looked at them with wide eyes for a moment, then did another little bow. “Ah yes, Mr. Brant. He was here with Dr. Warren, I remember.” She stepped back a few paces, adding, “I will go get Mr. Wong. He talked to them on several occasion and can tell you more.”</span></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12pt;">With that, she turned and walked off into the back office. Rick leaned on the counter and let out a sigh of relief. <br />
<br />
“Wow, Scotty,” he breathed. “At least we know they got here safe and sound.”<br />
<br />
Scotty’s face was all screwed up and he frowned, looking around. He shuddered. “I just don’t like this, Rick. Nothing is as it seems to be. You gotta be suspicious of everything. You …”<br />
<br />
His voice trailed off as an elderly Chinese man walked out from the back, dressed in the obligatory white tropical suit. He bowed politely to the boys and identified himself as Mr. Wong. Rick repeated what he had told the woman.<br />
<br />
Mr. Wong nodded. “Yes, your father and his friend were here a few days ago. They spent one night as I recall.” He stepped over to a large registry on the counter and flipped back several pages. “They stayed here one night,” he added, telling Rick the date. “They departed the following morning, early and in quite a hurry.”<br />
<br />
“That’d be four days ago,” Rick said to Scotty. “Gosh, I wonder where they went?”<br />
<br />
Scotty shrugged, feeling uncomfortable in the stylish lobby, so different from what they’d been used to the last few weeks. Mr. Wong gently cleared his throat, then said:<br />
<br />
“Perhaps I can help you, young man. Your father asked about acquiring a vehicle to go up into the mountains. I advised him to visit the garage in Chinatown.”<br />
<br />
“The mountains, Scotty!” Rick said breathlessly, glancing pointedly at him. “Perhaps they started out to Storms End, too?”<br />
<br />
Rick could feel his heart begin to thud in excitement. He struggled to control himself and was about to thank Mr. Wong when the man said:<br />
<br />
“And there is more that I can tell you.”<br />
<br />
Rick’s eyes widened. “What is it, sir?”<br />
<br />
“The two men asked about Coastwatchers Hill, how to get there. It is up on the first ridges of the hills behind Vulcan. It is where the Japanese caves are, and your father and his friend wanted to go there.”<br />
<br />
Rick and Scotty quickly exchanged puzzled expressions.<br />
<br />
“What’s up there?” Scotty asked, frowning.<br />
<br />
“Miles and miles of caves,” Mr. Wong answered in his sing-song voice. “Some are filled with munitions left over from the war, others are empty.” He lowered his eyes and added, “Still others bear the remains of prisoners of war.”<br />
<br />
“P.O.W.’s!” Scotty exclaimed. “And men still missing in action. Maybe that’s what they’re looking for after all, Rick. Some mystery in connection with them.”<br />
<br />
Mr. Wong shook his head. “No, they did not mention that. They were looking for something specific. They wanted to find the madman of Coastwatchers Hill.”<br />
<br />
Rick swallowed hard, his eyes agog as he looked at Scotty yet again in consternation and they shared baffled expressions. Turning back to Mr. Wong, he repeated, slowly, “<i>the madman of Coastwatchers Hill?”<br />
</i>The elderly Chinese man nodded. “He is a local legendary figure. One is not quite sure to this day if he really exists, although plenty people claim to have seen him over the years. He is an old Chinese man who lives up in the caves on that ridge, from long before the Japanese came. He is said to have survived even their occupation and excavation of the catacombs, so clever he is. Mr. Brant and Dr. Warren wanted to find him.”<br />
<br />
Rick huffed out a couple breaths, literally scratching his head in wonder. He turned once again to Scotty as if the boy could possibly offer him an explanation.<br />
<br />
“I am totally stumped, buddy,” he said, with a shrug of his shoulders, after Scotty just stared at him blankly. “I thought it was mysterious when Dad and Dr. Warren wanted to find the old American woman Annie Welles on Lateela Island. But this beats that all to pieces! What in the world could they want with an old madman who lives in mountain caves up above a volcano on this God-forsaken jungle island in the very exact middle of nowhere?”<br />
<br />
<i style="color: red;">Chapter 10 coming soon!</i></span></b></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12pt;"><b><span style="color: black; font-family: Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br />
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</span></b></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial Black, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></div><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></span></span></b>stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-16599252646697962562011-10-26T09:57:00.000-07:002013-09-21T15:17:37.257-07:00LOST DANA GIRLS MYSTERY!<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">I thought this Dana Girls fanfiction mystery was lost when my computer with its files crashed and AOL did away with its webspace at the same time. But Google had it archived! Yay, Google! So now we'll use those pages until I get a new site set up!</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-size: large;"><i><b><br />
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An all-new vintage Dana Girls mystery!<br />
Completely online and free!<br />
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<span style="color: red;"><big><big><big><b>THE SECRET OF THE ICE CASTLE</b></big></big></big></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><i>This is a full-length fanfiction mystery in the original 1930s Mildred Wirt style. It takes place at a haunted English manor house in the hills north of Penfield in which a flute-playing ghost roams the halls on long winter nights accompanied by a wolf. Shift the scene to nearby frozen Indian Lake and a white stone castle on Spirit Island where the local Indian burial grounds were once the scene of a notorious crime. Louise and Jean are asked to solve this mystery from both the past and present, and they meet up with thrills and chills as they track down clues in the bleak winter landscape.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">What the reviewers said ten years ago ....</span><br />
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<b>"</b>It was just like reading one of the original novels by McFarlane or Benson. I just want to say thanks for making such a delightful gift available to all of us."<b style="color: #2f2f2f; font-style: italic;">.....Frank Quillen, series books aficionado</b><br />
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<i style="color: #2f2f2f;">"</i>This 'new' original-style Dana has all the literary plot development of the first (Danas). The strong setting, the familiar leading characters, the pranks, the coincidences (I love those coincidences), and an unusual mystery - all ring very true to the series book series, Dana Girls." <b><i style="color: #2f2f2f;">....Susabella Passengers, series books fanzine</i></b><br />
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"The Secret of the Ice Castle is marked by a high sense of adventure. It is a gripping mystery that compelled my attention throughout the reading. I was more than pleasantly surprised to read it, and gladly give it a 9+." <b style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2f2f2f;">....David M. Baumann, Starman series author<br />
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<b style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">(wait a few seconds for the delay)<br />
(or click on 'impatient?')</span></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2f2f2f;">Click </span><a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20050204135341/http://members.aol.com/seriesbook2/castle1.html" style="color: #2f2f2f;">HERE</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2f2f2f;"> for Part 1</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2f2f2f;">Click</span><a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20050204140306/http://members.aol.com/seriesbook2/castle2.html" style="color: #2f2f2f;"> HERE</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2f2f2f;"> for Part 2</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2f2f2f;">Click</span><a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20050204140938/http://members.aol.com/seriesbook2/castle3.html" style="color: #2f2f2f;"> HERE</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2f2f2f;"> for Part 3</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2f2f2f;">Click </span><a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20050319175028/http://members.aol.com/seriesbook2/castle4.html" style="color: #2f2f2f;">HERE</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2f2f2f;"> for Part 4</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">brought to you by THE STRATOMIKER SYNDICATE!<br />
</span><br />
.... and check this out, a sample chapter from a forthcoming vintage Dana!<br />
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Click <a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20040203045206/http://members.aol.com/stratomiker/specter1.html">HERE</a> FOR <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">THE SPECTER IN THE SNOW</span><br />
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stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9151190410584753411.post-51201434189058154702011-10-22T12:42:00.000-07:002011-10-22T12:44:29.737-07:00VINTAGE NANCY DREW CHAT<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><a href="http://groups.google.com/group/alt.books.nancy-drew/browse_thread/thread/c5373c741d01920f/ff52c7866923251a?q=top+ten&lnk=ol">GAY TOLERANCE CREDENTIALS</a><br />
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Click on the above; it's a live link to an alt.books.nancy-drew chat thread from 1999 which shows just how zany that group used to be. One of the members bragged about her 'tolerance' of gay people, her 'gay tolerance credentials', and how up-to-date that made her, and how it helped to sell books to them. <br />
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Others reacted with disdain to this, thinking her attitude self-aggrandizing, old-fashioned, and still showing prejudice - 'tolerating' instead of 'accepting'.</strong></span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">However, their backlash toward her viewpoint was strictly in accordance with everything else on this group - silly and comedic, and very critical!</span></strong>stratomikerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07037554947654294112noreply@blogger.com0