“What about air patrols, General Steele?” Quiz asked. “Why can’t the Air Force retrace the route of the B-52 with another plane? Maybe they could spot the bomb.”
Russ Steele jerked his thumb up at the sky as a wedge of pursuit ships droned overhead. “They’ve been doing that for two days, but it’s a long shot. First of all, no one knows precisely what route that big bomber was flying after the radio conked out. Secondly, it’s pretty difficult to spot objects from the air, especially in heavily forested country like this. An object can drop through this thick canopy of foliage and leave no more trace than if it had fallen into the ocean. No, I’m afraid this is a job for the foot soldiers.”
“FOR-ward MARCH!” Jerry bellowed in a good imitation of a drill sergeant. “Hut-two-three-four....”
Russ laughed. “I’m afraid this operation calls for a loose formation, Jerry. Suppose we maintain an interval of about fifteen hundred feet between each two men. That will keep us within easy hailing distance of each other. I’ll be on the right flank with one of the Geiger counters. You boys can draw lots to see who takes the left flank with the other counter.” He grinned. “That poor guy will have to walk a little more than a mile before we even get started.”
“I’ll be the fall guy,” Sandy volunteered. “I’m in better shape than Jerry or Quiz.”
Jerry sniffed. “Show-off! But I’m not proud,” he added hastily. “Go ahead.”
“That’s settled, then,” Russ said. “Our direction will be due north. You all have compasses; check them regularly. All right, we may as well get started.” He unstrapped the walk-o-meter from his leg and handed it to Sandy. “You better take this to pace off the intervals. Quiz, Jerry and I will wait until you’ve reached your position. Then you sing out and the boys will pass the word down the line. If any of you see anything unusual, sound off and sit tight until I get there.” He pointed to the black box Sandy had slung over one shoulder. “And if that Geiger counter begins to chatter, backtrack fast until it stops.”
Time passed quickly for Sandy. He was a little lonely at first, but it didn’t last long. There were so many fascinating things to be seen in the forest when you were alert, he realized. Chipmunks and squirrels spied on him from tree hollows. He passed within two feet of a rabbit burrowed into a pile of leaves. A lizard that blended so perfectly into the bark of a tree that it was invisible from more than twelve inches away didn’t loose its rigidity, even when he touched its tail. After the first hour, Prince came bounding through the brush to keep him company. An hour later, the dog went off to join somebody else. At regular intervals, the boys would call out to each other, though an attempt by Sandy and Jerry to keep up a running conversation soon left both of them hoarse. They had no chance to get bored. The enormity and excitement of the mission they were performing saw to that.
At noon, Russ Steele called a halt for lunch. “Stay where you are,” he called to Quiz. “Break out a K-ration. Pass the word on to Jerry and Sandy.”
Five hours later, they rendezvoused on the banks of a small river. “We’ll camp here for tonight,” Russ said. “We should make the Canadian border sometime tomorrow afternoon. There’s a logging camp up there, Quiz, so you’ll get a chance to see lumberjacks at work.”