stuck together. He can't
say anything but mmmmm."

But Barby was interested now. "And how does the Memory Machine madly
machinate and murmur the answers?"

"Mmm," Rick murmured. "That is the secret!"

Hartson Brant threatened his son with a handy volume of the Physics
Handbook. "Out with it, young man. This is no time to keep secrets,
now that we're all partners in the deal."

Rick sighed. He waved at Barby. "Look at her. So young, so smart, so
pretty. But the poor girl has a very slight handicap. She has to wear
a hearing aid...."

Scotty got it then. "Hey! Rick, that's great! The hearing aid would be
a radio receiver!"

Barby got it, too. She finished in a rush, "And the Megabuck Mob would
be watching on TV, and digging out the answers, and the Memory Machine
would be a radio transmitter ..."

"It wouldn't matter about the soundproof booth," Scotty chimed in,
"because radio will go right through the walls!"

Hartson Brant held both hands to his head in mock horror. "To think
that my only son should turn out to be a halfway criminal genius!"

Rick glanced up at his father suspiciously. "Halfway?" He knew from
the word that the scientist had immediately spotted some reason why
his gimmick wouldn't work.

"Never mind, son." Hartson Brant put a hand on Rick's shoulder. "The
Megabuck Moll can bake you a cake with a file in it, so you can break
out of jail. I'm sure you won't mind being a fugitive from justice."

A harsh growl from the doorway caused them all to whirl around,
startled. "He'll never get a chance. The Megabuck Mob is pinched as of
right now. The federal government is taking over this island!"

Crouched in the doorway, submachine gun cradled in his arms, was an
officer of the United States Coast Guard!

CHAPTER II

The Invasion of Spindrift

Hartson Brant reacted first. He said severely, "I've tried to teach
Rick that one never points a firearm at people. You're setting him a
bad example." Then the scientist smiled and held out his hand. "This
is an unexpected pleasure, Steve. Why didn't you let us know you were
coming? And why the disguise?"

Steve Ames, a chief agent of JANIG, the Joint Army-Navy Intelligence
Group with which Spindrift had so often worked, straightened up and
grinned. He winked at the astonished young people. "Hi, gang."

The trio chorused, "Hi, Steve."

Steve shook hands with Hartson Brant, then explained, "I'm not really
setting a bad example. If you'll look