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Updated: June 17, 2025
Joking aside, it's interesting that Camillion should be here. It's even more interesting that his sidekick is a crooked electronics engineer or scientist. When you add flying stingarees to that combination, it totals up to something novel in criminal ideas. But what?" "We thought you might have an idea," Rick prodded. "Yes and no," Steve said ambiguously. "What ideas do you have?"
Rick cut corners, knowing he had enough water under the keel, heading directly for the creek entrance. Scotty came back to the cockpit and joined him. "Do you suppose Orvil Harris will be around?" Rick shrugged. "It's pretty late for a crabber. He's probably gone by now." "I wonder if he'll ever see any flying stingarees come out of the creek." Rick shook his head.
Neither he nor Scotty believed in flying saucers at least, not in saucers that kidnaped people, and the object Rick had seen had not been saucer-like. It had been shaped like a stingaree. Stingarees don't fly. Rick smiled to himself. During another vacation, skin diving in the Virgin Islands, he and Scotty had proved that octopuses don't wail.
"Hey, take it easy, Rick! I didn't think I'd startle you so when I shook you." Rick stared. "Did I fall asleep? I must have. I was trying to remember, and suddenly I was dreaming about red eyes and claws " Scotty laughed softly. "If you've got to have nightmares, at least do it in comfort. Let's go to the boat and go to bed." Rick dreamed no more of the flying stingarees.
"On the nose," Steve agreed. "Now it's time to move in on our foolish friends at Calvert's Favor. Do you boys want to take a hand?" "Try and leave us out," Rick said with a grin. "JANIG is welcome to assist us, but the flying stingarees are our babies. Scotty's and mine, that is." "Be glad to have you help," Scotty echoed. The JANIG men laughed. "You've got a point," Chuck Howard conceded.
If the mystery of those flyin' stingarees gets solved, we may find out what happened to Cousin Link. I'll help if I can." "You know these waters pretty well," Steve returned. "Is there any way of getting to Calvert's Favor, or within watching distance, without going up this creek?" The crabber reached over and turned a switch, cutting his engine. "There is, for that boat you're in.
That would leave four hours before they would have to leave the house to pick up Steve. Four hours was time enough for the investigation Rick had in mind. After breakfast they settled down with the data sheets and notebook to review them once more. But only one additional fact emerged. Two people thought, but weren't absolutely sure, that they had seen a spurt of fire from the flying stingarees.
But if stingarees don't fly, he asked himself, what looks like a stingaree and does fly? He realized suddenly that the sound of the motor was louder once again. Someone investigating the houseboat? He swung out of bed. The cool air of morning was in sharp contrast to the warmth of his sleeping bag. Quickly he slipped into shorts and sweat shirt.
In the morning he couldn't have said what his dreams had been about, except that they had been pleasant. In the bright glare of morning, the whole thing seemed dreamlike. It was preposterous to imagine that flying objects, probably balloons shaped like stingarees, were launched from a famous mansion that dated back to the days of the early Maryland colony.
Even the small planes that fly from the airfield are much bigger than the flying stingarees, but when the planes go over at about five thousand feet, they seem tiny. At that altitude the flying stingarees must be at the limit of really good visibility." "I read you loud and clear. So the objects are sent from Calvert's Favor, and they climb. They don't climb straight up, though.
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