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Do you have any reason to think he may be tied up with the flying stingarees or saucers?" "None at all," Rick answered. "Do you know where Calvert's Favor is?" Scotty asked. "The location wasn't given in your books. There was quite a lot about the plantation house." "No, never heard of the place. But we'll find out when we pass through Cambridge.
The Swiss torsion clock on Steve Ames's fireplace mantle read 6:49. Rick and Scotty, in slacks, shirts, and moccasins, sat in armchairs and tried to stay awake. The small rocket, cleaned and dried, rested on a newspaper on Steve's table. "Rockoon," Rick said. "That explains the funny antenna, the presence of the electronics expert, and why the stingarees are launched."
"Since man cannot live by bread alone, his life must be filled with other things. And guess what things!" Rick smiled in anticipation. "Uh-huh. Flying stingarees." The Face Is Familiar The Bay Gourmet was all that its outside appearance promised.
Now he had shown up again, on the Eastern Shore. "A crime syndicate chief, a crooked scientist, flying stingarees, an old mansion, a peculiar antenna, and a missing crabber. What does it add up to?" Rick demanded. Scotty shrugged. He didn't answer. There was no answer yet. On the Bottom There were three wooden cases stored in the full-length closet in the houseboat cabin.
He recovered in time to keep from spilling the hot liquid on Steve's rug. "Scientific research is usually the reason for rockoons. They carry experiments." Scotty snorted. "Are you telling me Lefty Camillion has turned scientist?" "Nope." Rick yawned. "I take it back. We still don't know why the stingarees fly. We only know what they are. Where do you suppose Steve is?"
"He might have kept quiet just to get money from Lefty for doing the work on intercepting the data. You know we had the clues, but it never occurred to us there might be a connection between Wallops Island and the stingarees, because who could imagine going to all that trouble to intercept open, unclassified data you can get by asking for it?" Rick had to laugh.
What data does it receive and transmit, and what do the people at the mansion do with it?" "What Rick is asking," Scotty observed, "is the question that has puzzled us since we got here. Why do the stingarees fly?" Steve waved a hand. "Patience for just a few more minutes. Anything else, Cobb?" The electronics expert shook his head. "Not unless you have specific questions.
A barometric switch can be installed that will act at a certain altitude, or a signal can be sent from the ground." "The antenna," Scotty said. "It can send a signal." "Sure." "I'm with you all the way, until you say this shows why the stingarees fly. Why send up rockoons? What's the reason?" Rick forgot he was holding a coffee cup and waved his hand.
The agent went in for speculation only when it served a purpose. With only a hint of evidence, he avoided guessing until the evidence had been checked out. "We figured out that the flying stingarees probably are balloons," Rick reported, recapitulating their conclusions of the previous evening. Steve nodded approvingly. "Very good reasoning.
The case of the flying stingaree was just getting interesting. "What are the flying stingarees?" he asked quietly. Scotty shifted position in his chair and looked at Rick quizzically. "You don't expect an answer. But I can tell you a few things they are not." "Tell away," Rick urged. "They are not flying saucers, aircraft, kites, sting rays, birds, fish, or good red herrings.
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