"We've been home for weeks," Rick replied. His eyes were on the slip of paper in his father's hand. "Dad, what is it? Where are we going?"
"Read it aloud," Hartson Brant suggested. He handed Rick the slip.
Rick scanned it quickly. It was a telegram that his father had taken over the phone. Rick's pulse quickened. Dr. Gordon, who had been at work on a secret rocket project in the far west, had wired:
arriving tomorrow. need rick and scotty for special work. urge they be ready to depart in three days equipped for extended stay at desert base.
Rick's eyes met Scotty's as he finished reading. "Desert base," he repeated.
Scotty grinned his delight. "John Gordon's rocket base is in the desert. He must want us there."
"But why?" Barby demanded. "You're not rocket experts. Why, even when we had the moon rocket here, you didn't work on the rocket itself."
That was perfectly true. Rick shrugged. "You know as much as we do, Sis."
Hartson Brant stirred his coffee thoughtfully. "I have a hunch," he said. "From the tone of the wire, I suspect John is in some kind of difficulty. Surely he doesn't want you as technicians, but it's not beyond the bounds of possibility that he needs a little detective work done."
It made sense to Rick. But what kind of detective work could he and Scotty do at a highly guarded and secret government base? He fought down the impulse to run up to his room and start packing. Gordon had said in three days. There was plenty of time. Except that Rick knew he'd be dizzy with wondering until John Gordon gave them more information.