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_. Trying to get Johnny Forbes. If anyone can get this thing across, he can. Wait a minute, here they are." He closed his eyes as he listened to the murmuring voice in the headphones. Then he was talking rapidly, forcefully, and the young flyer gazed with owlish solemnity at Bart as they listened to his conversation. It was plain that Bill was but half inclined to believe, though impressed by the earnestness and evident apprehension displayed by his two passengers. "Yes, 2BXX," Van was saying. "Connect me with Johnny Forbes, please--in a hurry. Yes.... Hello, Johnny, it's Van--Carl Vanderventer, you know. Yes; got a scoop for you, but first I want you to get it in the broadcasts. Get me? It's about a man-eating plant that's starting to overrun the country. No--listen now, I'm not dreaming--listen--" The frantic scientist rambled on and on about the seed from the moon, the red death that was creeping down from the mountains, the horror of the calamity as he and Bart had visioned it. Then, with a sudden note of despair, his voice trailed off into nothingness and he turned a drawn white face to his two friends. "Laughed at me. Hung up on me," he groaned. "Good God! We've got to do something--quick!" "Be in Albany in an hour," the pilot suggested. "What you going to do there?" He believed, now. His expression of horror showed it. "See the governor. But, man, it's an hour wasted! We must stir up the country--get the word to Washington--everywhere. It might be possible to fight the things some way if we can mobilize State and National resources quickly enough. Bill, Bart, what can we do?" * * * * * The plane sped on through the night under control of her gyro-pilot as the three men racked their brains for a solution of the problem. If a hard-boiled newspaper man would not believe the story, who could? "I've got it!" Bart shouted suddenly. "Can either of you pound a key--code, I mean?" "Sure, I can. Then what?" Petersen returned. "Fake an S. O. S. Don't you see? All broadcasting has to stop, and every ship at sea, every air liner in this part of the country'll be listening--standing by. Give 'em the story in code. Let 'em think we're in a ship from the moon--captured by Lunarians who are here to destroy the world with this weed of theirs--anything. Make it as weird as possible. Most everyone'll think it's a hoax, but there are ten thousand kids--amateurs--who'll be listen
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