New Adventures of the Mad Scientists' Club Read Online Free PDF

parked beside the barn.
           
"Just call me 'Corporal'!" the deputy hollered back. "See you in
court!" And we spun out of the driveway with the siren wide open.
            The
deputy kept glancing at his watch as we sped down the state highway toward the
turnoff for the river. Henry had turned our receiver on and was holding it up
to the window of the car, trying to pick up the signal of the transmitter.
There was nothing coming over the police net.
            "I
hope we get there in time," said the deputy. "The chief had about ten
minutes' start on us and he didn't have to drive as far."
           
"Don't worry," said Henry. "Jeff is telephoning Mr. Monaghan.
He'll have another boat ready for us."
           
"How'm I gonna explain this to Chief Putney?" moaned the deputy,
clapping one hand to his forehead.
           
"Maybe you won't have to," cried Henry. "I think I've got
something! Pull over! Pull over to the side of the road!"
            The
deputy braked the car down sharply, and we ground to a halt on the apron.
"What's the matter? What's up?" he asked, twisting round in his seat.
Henry turned his loop antenna a hair to the right and turned the volume up on
the speaker. Then he took his earphones off. The steady beep-beep-beep of Dinky's little transmitter was clearly audible.
           
"Have you got a map?" Henry asked the deputy.
           
"Sure!" He reached in the glove compartment, pulled out a road map,
and spread it on the seat beside him.
           
"Where are we right now?" asked Henry, shining his flashlight on the
map.
           
"I'd say we were right about here." The deputy pointed to a jog in
the red line marking the state highway. Henry pulled his compass from his
pocket and took a reading in the direction the antenna was pointing. Then he
marked an X on the map where Lemon Creek took a sharp turn toward the river.
            "I
figure they're just about there now. They've got at least three miles to go
before they reach the river."
           
"That ought to take them twenty or twentyfive minutes," said the
deputy. "I'm sure they're using a rowboat or a canoe."
           
"They must be," I said. "A motorboat would make too much noise."
           
"Let's get going!" Henry urged. "We won't go to Monaghan's
boathouse. Turn right, down the Old Mill Road."
           
"The Old Mill Road? Are you nuts?"
           
"Please, Officer!" Henry pleaded. "We've only got about ten
minutes."
            "Oh,
boy!" said the deputy. "You're going to get me in real trouble!"
           
"You're in trouble already," said Henry. "How would you like a
chance to be a hero?"
            "A
live hero or a dead hero?"
           
"How would you like to capture those bank bandits singlehanded?"
Henry persisted.
           
"Sonny, I hear you talking, but I've got a wife and kids to think
about."
           
"They'll be proud of you after tonight," said Henry. "Let's get
going!"
           
"Oh, boy! I should have taken you kids home, like the Chief told me,"
mumbled the deputy, as he put the car in gear and pulled it onto the highway.
            As we
turned down the road leading to the old abandoned mill on Lemon Creek, Henry
outlined his plan.
           
"It's simple," he said. "They ought to reach the millpond in
about ten minutes. The only way to get out of it is to go through the sluice
way. That's a natural trap. If we can close the downstream gate before they get
there, we'll have them blocked. And if we close the upstream gate after they're
in the sluice, they can't possibly get out. The walls are about fifteen feet
high and covered with green slime. They'll be helpless! All we have to do is
sit there and wait for the Chief to come." Even the deputy was smiling
now, and he pushed the patrol car down the winding road even faster than
before.
           
"Great idea, Mulligan! Great!" he exclaimed. Then he frowned.
"But what about those gates? Will they work?"