ight be ready to tell something worth while. Could you drop by?"

"Sure thing, Chief. Right away!" Tom hung up, excited by the thought
that the Brungarian might be about to reveal an important secret. "Mind
stopping by police headquarters first?" he asked his friends.

Minutes later, Bud's red convertible pulled up in front of the gray
stone building. Tom jumped out and dashed up the granite steps.

"I've had Mirov transferred to a cell by himself," Chief Slater said as
he took Tom back to see him. "Figured he might talk more freely away
from his pals."

The prisoner, however, showed no eagerness to do so at Tom's arrival. He
remained slouched on his bunk as the young inventor pulled a chair up to
the cell bars. His only response was a slight curl of the lips.

"Have you heard about my country's new submarine?" Mirov inquired after
Chief Slater left.

Tom nodded curtly.

"When are _you_ going to build one?" Mirov prodded slyly.

"Look!" Tom snapped. "You asked to see me. Here I am. What is it you
want?"

Mirov shrugged with a look of amusement. "To make a bargain with you,"
he replied casually. "I know the secret of that sub. Get me and my
friends released and I'll give it to you."

Tom had no intention of doing so, but he parried the offer, hoping to
draw Mirov out further. The prisoner, however, would say nothing more.

At last Tom gave up and rose to leave. "I'll think over your
proposition," he said.

He heard Mirov chuckle as he walked away. Somewhat puzzled, Tom reported
the conversation to Chief Slater and also telephoned the plant to inform
Ames.

Then he hurried back to the car. Bud frowned upon hearing Tom's story.

"Do you think he's on the level?"

Tom shrugged as they headed out into the countryside. "I may be wrong,
but the whole thing sounded fishy."

"Now look!" Sandy said severely. "If we're going to enjoy this hike,
we're _not_ going to talk about Brungarians or inventions or that lost
missile. From now on, it will cost anyone five cents every time he
breaks the rule!"

The boys chuckled and agreed. But agreeing proved easier than keeping
the rule. Again and again, either Tom or Bud would inadvertently drop a
remark about their submarine experiments or the search in the South
Atlantic. By the time they had parked in the hills and started climbing,
Sandy's and Phyl's pockets were jingling with coins.

"What are you going to do with it all?" Bud asked jokingly.

"_Give it to us!_"