ne of the seven wonders of the world.

In Chicago, it was 2:15 in the afternoon. At the edge of the city a man
spoke into the telephone in the office of a small plastics factory. "The
cat is ready," he said.

In Paris, a phone rang. The man who answered noted in the log that his
overseas call had gone through at exactly 9:15 p.m. He picked up the
phone and spoke crisply. "_Monsieur l'Inspecteur? ... _Bien._ This is
Interpol. We have a relay for you from the United States. Monsieur,
this will please you--and it most certainly will amaze you. Message
begins..."

In Cairo, the time was 10:15 P.M. A famous Egyptian astronomer walked
into his office and called to his associate. "Hakim! Good news. He can
come. Now we can find out what that accursed hydrogen-line impulse
means."

On Spindrift Island, off the coast of New Jersey, it was 3:15 in the
afternoon. The island was quiet under a blanket of snow. The long, gray
laboratory buildings, where so many dramatic scientific developments had
taken place, were deserted. Only in the homes of the scientists was
there activity, and all of it was in preparation for Christmas.

In the big main house on the seaward side of the island, Dr. Hartson
Brant, director of the world-famous Spindrift Scientific Foundation,
walked to the foot of the stairs and called to his son.

"Rick, can you come to the library in five minutes? Bring Scotty with
you."

Rick Brant, a tall boy with light-brown hair and eyes, paused in his
gift wrapping long enough to call an affirmative to his father, then he
made sure Don Scott, whose room was next door, had heard the summons.

Scotty had. He came through the connecting door. "What's up?"

"Don't know. Maybe Dad has some Christmas chores for us to do."

Scotty, a big, husky boy with black hair and brown eyes, was an
ex-Marine who had originally joined the Spindrift group as a guard
during the adventure of _The Rocket's Shadow_. Since then, he and Rick
had become the closest of friends, and the Brants had accepted him as a
full-fledged member of the family.

"I'm willing, whatever it is," Scotty told Rick. "I'm so full of Yuletide
spirit I may bust a seam from sheer joy."

Rick grinned. He felt exactly the same way. He continued wrapping the
present for his sister Barbara, a pretty girl a year his junior. Barby
had a definite talent for sketching and painting and Rick had bought her
a complete artist's kit, hoping it would encourage her natural sk