Big Bill’s eyes squinted in a strange way.
“Oh! Yes!” His voice seemed unusually loud and a trifle off key like the dong of a cracked bell. “Yes, Professor, you and I must help the boys out when we can. Here—you sign right there, all three of you. And then this one.”
He stood up when all had signed. “Well boys, I wish you luck.” Just then, strangely enough, a cloud passed over the sun. It left Big Bill’s face in a shadow that to Johnny’s keen imagination seemed a mask. A moment later they were out in the open air and the sun had escaped from behind the cloud.
That evening Johnny got out the two strange objects he had taken from the deserted bungalow—the battery and the bright tube. He studied them a long time, screwing them together and unscrewing them many times. “I’d like to know,” he murmured. “Those were the men who flew over the ball field, I am sure of that. They had these. Wonder if Goggles still has those two powders. Hope he has.” With that he hid the battery and tube along with the thought-camera at the bottom of his trunk.
“Oh Johnny! Come in here a minute.” It was old C.K. the editor who called to Johnny from his door next day.
“Just thought I’d tell you,” C.K. said as Johnny took a seat in his office, “that, mebby you didn’t know it, but Big Bill Tyson drove a sharp bargain with you boys and old Professor George yesterday.”
“A—a sharp bargain!” Johnny stared. “We didn’t pay too much did we?”
“N—no. The price is a fair one,” C.K. drawled. “But!” He sat straight up. “How you boys going to raise four thousand dollars in sixty days?”
“Four thou—”
“That’s the contract you signed. Doug showed it to me yesterday. Didn’t say anything to him about it. Wanted to think it over.