Smuggled Atom Bomb by Philip Wylie

Author:Philip Wylie
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science fiction
Publisher: Lancer
Published: 2011-02-10T05:00:00+00:00

FOUR

The commercial air lines were sold out to the last seat for the holiday season. Scotty’s father was unable to get reservations. So it was in the plane of Scotty’s friend that they left an ice-coated airfield, shortly before midnight. The plane, as Scotty had promised, was fast. They made one stop for fuel, in Savannah, and swept south over the Everglades at dawn.

A red sky at morning, Duff reflected, wasn’t a “sailor’s warning” in Miami. Just a custom of the country. And he reflected—thinking of whatever came to mind in order to wear away the interminable hours of flight—that it was an advantage to be rich, like the Smythes. To have friends with planes, who’d make an emergency hop from New York to Miami just for fun. To be able to have a convertible you were too rushed to drive put aboard a freight car by the family chauffeur. Money meant things like that. But it didn’t necessarily

“corrupt character,” as Duff’s preacher father firmly believed and as Duff himself had vaguely assumed. There was nothing corrupt about Scotty Smythe’s character.

Duff was dozing when the plane bounced, braked, turned and taxied. Its pilot looked back. “All out!”

Scotty said, “Thanks a million, Al! Go on over to my place—”

“Nope. Gotta get back. Check in here, and out.”

“Wonderful thing of you to do.”

“Rather fly than eat. Well—”

There was the slant of morning sunshine, the Florida smell of flowers and mold and warmth, the sleepy look of people around an airport at daybreak. They carried their own bags to a taxi and started for the Yates home.

When they reached the house no one appeared to be awake. Duff unlocked the front door. Scotty tiptoed in behind him.

From across the living room came the murmur of Mrs. Yates, “Who’s there?”

Duff was smiling. “Me and Scotty Smythe. A pal of his flew us down.” A hand-knit bed jacket, blue as her eyes, covered her shoulders. Her golden hair was disheveled and as she sat up she reached for a comb. “I’m a sight! I’d dropped off—”

“I’ll get you some coffee. Eleanor and the children asleep?” He waited for her nod and went to the kitchen.

When, after a few minutes, he came back with three cups of coffee on a tray, Mrs.

Yates had fixed herself up. She smiled tiredly at him. “It’s like you two boys to rush down here—”

“We were badly worried!”

“You needn’t have been. Not to this extent! I was telling Scotty about it. When Charles found Harry Ellings, we were upset, naturally. He’s been a member of the family for so long! He was so quiet—so nice! I don’t suppose we’ll ever find a boarder who will replace him.” She sighed. “He’d been ill, of course. His heart just stopped. His funeral is arranged.

Eleanor has been trying to get his friends together. There aren’t many.”

Duff couldn’t hold back the question any longer, “What about the thing Eleanor said she found? Was it another box?”

Mrs. Yates’ head shook. “The same one. That Mr. Higgins came last night.

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