He timed it perfectly. Scotty was just rolling up to the pier near Newark as Rick taxied in after landing. He got into a rowboat brought by an attendant, and tied the plane to an anchor buoy. In a moment he was in the car with Scotty.
"We'll get some excitement now," Rick predicted.
"Because Marks is arriving?"
"Yes, and because the barber has come to town. If he isn't up to his neck in this business, I'll eat his hair oil on pancakes."
Scotty shuddered. "You might at least wait until I've had more breakfast."
Rick ignored him. "Also, the team is now assembled in one place. That means the enemy has a single target to shoot at."
Scotty laughed out loud. "You should see yourself," he said, chuckling. "Since we found the barber yesterday, you've been a new man. Beaming and happy as can be. Now the enemy has a single target and you're pleased. Didn't it occur to you that the target is us, you simple meathead?"
"It did." Rick had to grin, too. "But who can locate the sharpshooter best? Why, the guy sitting on the bull's-eye."
Scotty parked and they walked into the station. A quick check of the bulletin board told them the train was on time. They walked to the gate just as the train announcer called the arrival.
Tom Dodd was one of the last off. He had two suitcases under one arm, and he was supporting Marks with the other. Rick and Scotty ran to help. Was the scientist ill?