"That strikes me as a perfectly feasible plan," said Brookings. "But you wouldn't really take her to another planet, would you? Why not use an automobile or an airplane, and tell Seaton that it was a space-car?"
"I wouldn't advise that. He might not believe it, and they might make a lot of trouble. It must be a real space-car even if we don't take her out of the city. To make it more impressive, you should take her in plain sight of Seaton—no, that would be too dangerous, as I have found out from the police that Seaton has a permit to carry arms, and I know that he is one of the fastest men with a pistol in the whole country. Do it in plain sight of her folks, say, or a crowd of people; being masked, of course, or dressed in an aviator's suit, with the hood and goggles on. Take her straight up out of sight, then hide her somewhere until Seaton listens to reason. I know that he will listen, but if he doesn't, you might let him see you start out to visit her. He'll be sure to follow you in their rotten car. As soon as he does that, he's our meat. But that raises the question of who is going to drive the car?"
"I am," replied DuQuesne. "I will need some help, though, as at least one man must stay with the girl while I bring the car back."
"We don't want to let anybody else in on this if we can help it," cautioned Brookings. "You could go along, couldn't you, Perkins?"
"Is it safe?"
"Absolutely," answered DuQuesne. "They have everything worked out to the queen's taste."
"That's all right, then. I'll take the trip. Also," turning to Brookings, "it will help in another little thing we are doing—the Spencer affair."
"Haven't you got that stuff away from her yet, after having had her locked up in that hell-hole for two months?" asked Brookings.
"No. She's stubborn as a mule. We've given her the third degree time after time, but it's no use."