Rick took a chair next to the telephone and dialed the operator. "A person-to-person call," he stated, "to Mr. Ken Holt, at the Brentwood Advance, Brentwood, New Jersey." He put his hand over the mouthpiece. "Let's hope he and Sandy aren't off on an assignment somewhere."
Luck was on their side. Ken Holt was in, and he was delighted to be of help. "Put the picture in the mail," the young reporter suggested. "If you make it airmail, special delivery, we'll have it first thing in the morning. With luck, we might even get it tonight. We'll phone you as soon as we have an identification. Incidentally, the Megabuck units worked like a charm, as I told you when I wrote. Thanks a lot."
"Glad they were helpful," Rick replied. "We'll hurry to town and get the picture in the mail right away."
He hung up and nodded at Scotty. "We'll get the picture ready, and take it to town when we go to pick Steve up. If we're a little early, the letter probably will go out on the early evening plane to Washington."
Scotty nodded. "What time is it?"
Rick glanced at his watch. "Nearly three. We'll be ready to take off as soon as Steve calls, or doesn't."
"If he calls, that means he won't be back," Scotty reminded.
"No matter. We'll go to town anyway, and have an early dinner."
Rick had envelopes and letter paper on the houseboat. He wrote a brief note to Ken, addressed the envelope, and printed Airmail Special Delivery on both sides, then enclosed the best picture of Merlin and sealed it. Scotty spent the time on a small repair job, taping up the neoprene gasoline hoses that carried fuel to the houseboat motors. By the time he was finished, it was nearly four. The boys went into the house to wait.
Steve called on the dot of four. "Rick? ... Steve. I'm sorry, fellow. I have a little more to do on this case, and I'll have to stay over. Everything going all right?"