“That’s right,” Teena’s father said anxiously. “I can’t overemphasize how important it is that those blueprints don’t get out of this country.”
“First I have several urgent phone calls to make,” the FBI man said quickly. “Must get the wheels turning at once.”
“There’s a phone in the empty office next door,” Mr. Taylor volunteered. “Help yourself.”
While the federal investigator was in the next room telephoning, Mr. Taylor, Mr. Ross, and the man from Drake Ridge talked over what they knew so far.
“Apparently what we have to go on,” Eddie’s father said, “are some assorted guesses, none of which may prove to be positive facts.”
“Well, guesses will have to do for the moment,” Mr. Ross said. “We have to have a starting point.”
“All right,” Mr. Taylor agreed, “here’s what we have. Two men seem responsible for both the stolen isotope and the missing blueprints. Eddie and Teena both saw the tall one called Simms on the college campus about a week ago. He must be familiar with our atomic-research department in order to know of the delivery, and to plan a method for stealing the isotope. In that case, he shouldn’t be difficult to trace.”
“Dad,” Eddie said suddenly, “doesn’t everyone who works around the atomic lab have an identification badge with his picture on it?”
“You’re absolutely right,” his father said, getting up quickly. “And we have duplicates of the pictures right here in our files.” He pulled a thick album from a steel drawer. He thumbed through to the ‘S’ section and opened it in front of Teena and Eddie.
“That’s him!” Eddie said, pointing almost immediately to the picture of the thin-faced man. His name was listed as Harvey Simms. Underneath the photo the man’s job title was typed in a single word—Custodian.