"Well, you're in all the papers this morning, Phoenix," said David, as he sat down beside the reclining bird next morning. "They don't know who you are, but they're all talking about what happened last night. They call you the 'Whispering Burglar.' The police are pretty worried."
"My dear chap," said the Phoenix apologetically,"let me repeat my sincere regrets for causing alarm. It was not my desire to—thepolice, did you say? Have they discovered any clues?"
"No," said David reassuringly. "They can't find a thing. They think the Whispering Burglar climbed up a ladder to saypssssst!into the upstairs windows. Only they can't find the ladder. They call it the 'Missing Mystery Clue.'"
The Phoenix gazed at the sky and mused. "In all the papers, you say? Well, Fame at last—although hardly the kind I had expected. What a pity that there can be no photographs with the story. Imagine a picture of me on the front page! A profile, perhaps—or would a full-length shot be more effective? Or both, let us say, with—"
"I know you'd look very handsome, Phoenix," David interrupted, "but what weshouldbe thinking about is the Scientist. What are we going to do?"
"Oh,that," said the Phoenix. "I was coming to that, my boy. The battle is already half won. I have a Plan."
"Good for you, Phoenix! What is it?"
"Aha!" said the Phoenix, with a mysterious smile. "All will unfold in time. Rest assured that the Plan is brilliant. In one stroke of genius it solves everything.Tactics, my boy! Napoleon had nothing on me."
"But whatisit, Phoenix?"
"Tut, my boy," said the Phoenix in a maddening way. "Control your impatience. You will see. Now, we shall have to buy some things, so we shall need money. Let me see.... Several of the Leprechauns have large pots of gold.... No, I fear they would not part with so much as a penny. Tightfisted, my dear fellow!—you never saw such misers. Hmmm.... Well, there are the Dragons, of course; they guard heaps of treasure in caves. But no—they are excellent chaps in most respects, but frightfully stuffy about loans and gifts. No.... The Djinn? No, his money is all tied up in Arabian oil speculation. Aha! Why didn't I think of that before? The Sea Monster, of course!"
"Do Sea Monsters have money?" asked David.
"No, but the Sea Monster should know where pirate treasure is buried—quite in its nautical line. We shall visit the Monster, my boy. Tomorrow, of course—I could not fly a foot today to save my life. My muscles are killing me!"
"Oh, poor Phoenix!" David said. But he was so excited that he could not feel much pity. Pirate treasure! They were going to dig for pirate treasure!
"We shall need a spade. I trust you will arrange for it, my boy?"
"Of course, Phoenix," said David, jumping to his feet. "I'll get everything ready right away. Don't move till I get back."
"Impossible, my boy." The Phoenix groaned as it shifted into a more comfortable position.
David raced home to collect the necessary things for the trip. Remembering how cold it had been last time, he took his leather jacket out of the closet, and a pair of gloves and a scarf. For the Phoenix he borrowed a bottle of liniment and took all the cookies from the cooky jar. And he picked the shortest of three spades in the garage. During the rest of the day he massaged the Phoenix's back and wings with the liniment. He was exploding with curiosity about the Plan, of course. But the Phoenix would only smile its smuggest smile and tell him to "wait and see, wait and see"—which almost drove David mad.
Tomorrow took its time, the way it always does when you are anxious to see it arrive, but it finally came. And David found himself with the spade held tightly under one arm, his jacket zipped up to his chin, gloves on, and scarf knotted, all ready to go.
"To the west, this time," said the Phoenix, as David got up on its back. "This is the Monster's Pacific season, you know. Ready, my boy? Splendid! We are off!"
Over the mountains and desert they sped, over the shore, out across the ocean. For a long time they hurtled through a huge blue loneliness, dark blue below, lighter blue above. Once they passed over a ship, a pencil dot trailing a pin-scratch of white. Another time they startled a high-flying albatross, which gave a frightened squawk and plunged down out of sight with folded wings. Aside from that, there was nothing to see until they reached the islands.
The Phoenix slowed down to a glide and dropped lower. "These are the coral atolls of the Pacific, my boy," it called over its shoulder. "That lake in the center of each island is called the lagoon."
David was enchanted by the atolls. They were made of tiny islets, strung together like the beads of a necklace. And the colors! The dark blue of the sea became lighter around the islands, melting from sapphire to turquoise to jade. The atolls were ringed with dazzling white surf and beach, and they all had cool green swaths of palm trees and underbrush. And each lagoon also had its varying shades of blue, like the outer sea.
"I fear we may have trouble, my boy," said the Phoenix, as they scanned the empty beaches. "The Monster shifts about from island to island to avoid discovery. We shall just have to search."
And search they did, atoll after atoll, until at the end of an hour they were rewarded. David suddenly spotted a dark object stretched out on the beach of a lagoon, and at the same time the Phoenix said "Aha!" triumphantly. They began to spiral down.
The Sea Monster was immense. Its body could have filled the living room at home. Its neck was twenty feet long, and so was its tail (which ended in a barbed point). It had huge seal-like flippers, and its polished brown hide was made up of scales as big as dinner plates.
"Wake up, Monster!" The Phoenix cried. "We—"
The next instant they were lost in a cloud of flying sand and spray, through which could be heard a prodigious splash. When it had cleared, they found themselves alone on the beach. The only sign of the Sea Monster was a great furrow in the sand, which led down to the agitated water.
"Golly, that was fast!" David marveled, as they shook the sand from themselves. "Do you think it'll come back, Phoenix?"
"Of course, my boy. Curiosity, if nothing else, will bring it up again. In the meantime, we might as well sit down and wait."
They sat down and waited. David took off his jacket. For fifteen minutes they heard nothing but the murmuring of the surf and the rustling clatter of palm fronds. At last there was a slight splashing noise from the lagoon.
"There," David whispered, pointing.
Thirty feet offshore, an ear was being thrust cautiously above the rippled surface. It twitched once or twice, then pointed quiveringly in their direction.
"Come out, Monster!" the Phoenix shouted. "It is I, the Phoenix."
The Sea Monster's head appeared slowly, followed by several yards of neck. It peered at them short-sightedly, weaving its head from side to side to get a better view. David saw that it had two short, straight horns just in front of its ears, eyes that were soft and cowlike, and a most expressive set of whiskers. The whiskers were now at a doubtful, half-mast angle.
"Ah, Phoenix," said the Sea Monster at last in a mild voice. "Can't you remember to wake me a bit more gently? I thought you were—"
"Come on out," said the Phoenix firmly, "and stop looking like a lost sheep."
"Uh—what about—uh—that?" said the Sea Monster hesitantly, pointing one ear at David.
"This," said the Phoenix, "is David. He is getting an education. I assure you that he will not bite."
The Sea Monster swam toward them, heaved itself out of the water, and offered its huge flipper for David to shake.
"Sorry I rushed off like that," it said. "The trouble is, I've had such a bad case of war nerves. Why, sometimes I jump out of my skin at nothing at all."
"Were you in the war?" David asked.
"Ah,wasI," sighed the Sea Monster. It flopped down comfortably on its belly, curled its tail around its front flippers, and sighed again. But David noticed that its whiskers had perked up to a quite cheerful angle. The Sea Monster was obviously delighted to have someone listen to its troubles.
"Yes," it said, heaving a third sigh, "I was. From the very beginning, much against my will. Guns all over the place! Terrible!"
"Did they shoot you?" David asked, horrified.
"Well,atme, anyway. I'm thankful to say they never hit me, but there were some pretty near misses. All the oceans were simply packed with ships. I couldn't lift my head out of water without bringing down a perfect rain of shells and bullets."
"Theintelligentthing in that case," the Phoenix broke in with a sniff, "would have been to stayunderwater."
"Thank you, Phoenix," said the Sea Monster dryly. "But Idolike to breathe now and then. Anyway, I wasn'tsafe even under water. They'd drop depth charges on me. One ship even launched a torpedo at me!"
"How awful!" said David.
"Tut! my boy," said the Phoenix. "I have no doubt our friend is stretching the truth shamelessly. You need not look so smug, Monster. You were not the only one in the war.Ihave gone through anti-aircraft fire a number of times. Some of it was very severe. In fact, once I—"
"Once I had the whole North Atlantic fleet afterme," the Sea Monster interrupted proudly.
"AndIremember the Franco-Prussian War!" said the Phoenix. "Which, I daresay, you donot."
"Well—uh—no, I don't."
"There you are!" the Phoenix crowed.
The Sea Monster, looking rather ruffled, pointedly turned from the Phoenix and said to David, "What should you like to do, David?"
David suddenly remembered what they had come for, and the excitement rushed back into his heart. He opened his mouth to cry "We want to dig for treasure!" and then stopped short. Asking for money, he knew, was an impolite thing to do—especially from someone you had only just met. And there was no telling how the SeaMonster might feel about people nosing around for its treasure. So he looked at the Phoenix and waited for it to speak.
The Phoenix caught David's glance, cleared its throat several times, and looked apologetically at the Sea Monster. "Monster, old chap," it said soothingly, "I am deeply sorry for having doubted you just now. Deeply sorry."
"Quite all right," said the Sea Monster stiffly.
"Yes," the Phoenix continued, "we both know that you have passed through perilous times, through dangers which (I must confess) would have leftmea shattered wreck."
The Sea Monster sighed sadly, but its whiskers were beginning to rise again.
"The Monster bears up very well under this fearful strain—don't you think so, my boy? A splendid example for the rest of us. Magnificent."
The Sea Monster's whiskers were quivering with pleasure.
"Monster, old chap, old friend, you were never one to let a boon companion down. If I have said it once, I have said it a hundred times: 'The Sea Monster,' I have said, 'the Sea Monster is the helpful sort. Mention thewords Staunch Friend,' I have said, 'and immediately the Sea Monster comes to mind.'"
The Phoenix reached up one wing and began to pat the Sea Monster's flipper.
"Monster, old chum, we—ah—we—Well, the plain fact is that we—ah—we have need of—such a trifling matter" (here the Phoenix gave a careless laugh) "that I should not really bring it up at all. Ah—we need a bit of money."
"Oh," said the Sea Monster. Its whiskers sagged.
"Now, please do not be offended, Monster," said the Phoenix hastily. "After all, you have no need for the treasure, and it does absolutely no good buried under the ground."
"It doesn't do any harm there, either," said the Sea Monster. "Really, Phoenix, I never thoughtyou—"
"Monster," said the Phoenix solemnly, "this—is a matter of life or death."
"Life or death—ha!"
"Please, Monster," said David. "It really is life or death, because the Scientist is chasing the Phoenix, and the Phoenix has a plan to escape him, and we need some money to carry out the plan so the Scientist can't hurt the Phoenix."
"A few small coins will do," added the Phoenix, with a winning smile. "A louis d'or, for example, or some pieces of eight. After which you may bury the rest again."
"Please, Monster!" David begged.
The Monster looked at David, and at the Phoenix, and then at David again, and then at the lagoon. It sighed a very doubtful sigh.
"Oh ... all right," it said reluctantly. "But for goodness sake, don't go telling anyone where you found it."
"Of course not," said the Phoenix. And David leaped up and shouted "Hooray!" and grabbed the spade and his jacket.
"The stuff is on the next island," said the Sea Monster. "I can swim over with you two on my back. This way, please—we have to leave from the outer beach."
The Sea Monster was a magnificent swimmer. Its neck cut through the water like the stem of a Viking ship, and it left a frothing wake behind. Every once in a while it would plunge its head into the water and come up with a fish, which it would swallow whole.
"Should you like some breakfast, David?" said the Sea Monster.
"No, thank you," David answered, "but you go right ahead. Phoenix," he added, "whatareyou doing?"
The Phoenix, which had been walking up and down with its wings clasped behind its back, stopped and gazed over the sea. "Pacing the quarter-deck, my boy. Scanning the horizon. That is what one usually does at sea, I believe."
"You'll be wanting us to call you Admiral next," said the Sea Monster acidly.
They steamed on. Twenty minutes and seventy-six large breakfast fish later they sighted the island—a little smudge on the horizon, dead ahead.
"Land ho!" a voice croaked. "Thank heavens."
David turned in surprise. The Phoenix was no longer pacing the quarter-deck and scanning the horizon.It was sitting limply with its head down and a glassy stare in its eyes.
"You had better hurry up," David said to the Sea Monster. "I think the Phoenix is seasick."
"Am not," the Phoenix gasped. "Merely (ulp!) temporary."
The Sea Monster turned and smiled sweetly at the Phoenix. "You'll get used to it in no time, Admiral."
When they landed, however, the Phoenix recovered rapidly and even began to put on a slight nautical swagger. The Sea Monster humped off down the beach, followed eagerly by the two treasure hunters. In a few minutes it came to a halt and sniffed the sand very carefully, swinging its head snakelike to and fro. It settled on one spot, sniffed it thoroughly, felt the sand with itswhiskers, and then solemnly announced: "Here."
"Ahoy, me hearties!" the Phoenix shouted. "Turn to and stand by to splice the main brace! Steady as she goes, mates!"
David needed no encouragement from anyone. He began to dig furiously. Flashing in the sun, the spade bit into the beach, and coarse white sand spurted in all directions. The Phoenix was quite as excited as David. It danced around the deepening hole with eyes asparkle, shouting such piratical terms as "Shiver me timbers!" "Strike your colors!" and "Give 'em no quarter, lads!" Suddenly it began to beat time with its wing and to sing in a raucous voice:
"Cut the King's throat and take the King's gold—Heave ho, bullies, for Panama!There's plenty of loot for the lad who is bold—Heave away, bullies, for Panama!"
"Cut the King's throat and take the King's gold—Heave ho, bullies, for Panama!There's plenty of loot for the lad who is bold—Heave away, bullies, for Panama!"
"You're flat on that last note," said the Sea Monster.
"My dear Monster, I have perfect pitch!"
"Oh, yes—you have perfect sea legs, too."
"Well, ah—How are you coming along, my boy? Any signs of treasure?"
David did not hear. In fact he heard nothing fromthe first crunch of the spade onward. His education was now richer by this fact: once you start out after treasure, you can think of nothing else until it is found. The sun was beating hotly on him, little rivulets of sweat poured down his face and arms, his muscles ached, blisters were beginning to form on his hands. Heedless of all, he dug on. He had settled into the rhythm of it now, and nothing could distract him.
"Tell you what's a good thing for seasickness," said the Sea Monster slyly. "You take a—" Pretending not to hear, the Phoenix stood first on one leg and then on the other and stared into the sky. David dug tirelessly.
Suddenly the spade grated on something solid, and they all jumped. David shouted "Here it is!" and shoveled up sand frantically. The Phoenix danced around the hole, also shouting. Even the Sea Monster arched its neck to get a better view. They could see a brass ring, crusted with verdigris, fastened to a partly-exposed piece of wood. The sand flew. Now they could see studded strips of metal bound to the wood, and a rusty padlock. And in a few minutes a whole chest, with slanting sides and a curved lid and tarnished brass hinges, was uncovered. David threw the spade on the beach, seized the brass handle, and tugged. It came off in his hand.
"Here, let me," said the Sea Monster. David got out of the hole, and the Sea Monster worked one flipper carefully under the chest. "Look out," it said, and heaved its flipper up. The chest shot into the air, tumbled down end over end, and split wide open on the beach.
David gasped. A dazzling, sparkling heap spilled out on the sand. There were heaps of gold and silvercoins, the silver black with tarnish but the gold still bright. There were pearls, rubies, diamonds, beryls, emeralds, opals, sapphires, amethysts. And bracelets, necklaces, pendants, sunbursts, brooches, rings, pins, combs, buckles, lockets, buttons, crucifixes. And carved pieces of jade and ivory and coral and jet. And coronets, crowns, tiaras, arm bands. And jeweled daggers, picture frames, vases, silver knives and forks and spoons, sugar bowls, platters, goblets.
For an hour they examined the treasure. David fairly wallowed in it, exclaiming "Look at this one!" or "Oh, how beautiful!" or just "Golly!" The Phoenix muttered such things as "King's ransom" and "Wealth of the Indies." The Sea Monster was not interested in the treasure, but kept glancing nervously out to sea.
At last the Phoenix said, "Well, my boy, I think we had better make our choice. Three or four coins should do it."
The Sea Monster gave a relieved sigh. "Let's get the rest of it underground right away. You have no idea what trouble it can cause."
The choice was difficult. There were so many coins, all of them with queer writing and heads of unknown gods and kings. David finally picked out four gold piecesand tied them up in his handkerchief. Then the Sea Monster swept the rest of the treasure into the hole. They all pushed sand in on top of it and jumped on the mound till it was level with the rest of the beach.
The Phoenix turned to the Sea Monster and said solemnly: "Monster, old fellow, I knew you would not fail us. You stood forth in our hour of need, and we shall not forget."
And David echoed, "Thank you, Monster."
The Sea Monster ducked its head and blushed. A wave of fiery red started at its nose, traveled rapidly back over its ears, down its neck, along the body, and fanned out to the tips of its flippers and the extreme end of the barb in its tail.
Even its whiskers turned pink.
"Well—uh—glad to help—uh—nothing to it, really," it mumbled. Then it turned abruptly, galloped down to the sea, plunged into the surf, and was gone.
7:In Which the Phoenix'sPlan Is Carried Out, andThere Are More Alarumsand Excursions in the Night
"Now, my boy," said the Phoenix, when they got back to the ledge that afternoon, "are the shops still open?"
"I think they're open till six," said David, shaking the sand out of his shoes. "Are we going to buy something?"
"Precisely, my boy. A hardware store should havewhat we need. Now, you will take our gold and purchase the following." And the Phoenix listed the things it wanted, and told David which to bring to the ledge and which to leave below.
"... and a hatchet," the Phoenix concluded.
"We have one at home already," said David. "Now, listen, Phoenix,can'tyou tell me what all this is for? What are we going to do with it?"
"My boy, the feline's existence was terminated as a direct result of its inquisitiveness."
"What did you say?"
"Curiosity killed the cat," explained the Phoenix.
"Oh. But—"
"Now, run along, my boy. A very important Thought has just come to me. I must Meditate a while." The Phoenix glanced at the thicket and hid a yawn behind one wing.
"Oh, allright," said David. "I'll see you in the morning, then."
It wasn't until he got home that he thought of something. He couldn't spend pirate gold pieces, or even show them to anyone, without being asked a lot of embarrassing questions. What to do? Ask Dad or Mother or Aunt Amy to lend him some money? More embarrassingquestions.... Well, he would have to rob his bank. But wait—why hadn't he remembered? Just before they had moved, Uncle Charles had given him a ten-dollar bill as a farewell present. He had been saving it for a model airplane, but the excitement of the last few days had driven it completely out of his mind. Of course the Phoenix's Plan was more important than any model plane could be.
So he kept the gold pieces tied up in his handkerchief and took his ten dollars to a hardware store, where he bought what the Phoenix wanted—a coil of rope, an electric door bell, a pushbutton, and one hundred feet of insulated wire. Then he brought the package home, hid it behind the woodpile in the garage, and sat down to think. Wire—bell—pushbutton. What could the Phoenix possibly want with them? And what was the rope for? And the hatchet? The more he puzzled over it the more confused he became, and finally he just gave up. There was only one thing he was sure about: whatever the Plan was, they would have to carry it out as soon as possible. Two days had passed since the Scientist had shown up. The new gun he had ordered might arrive at any time now. Perhaps even today, when they had been digging up the pirate treasure, the Scientist had got hisnew rifle and had started to hunt through the mountains.
The thought gave David a creepy feeling on the back of his neck. They certainly would have to hurry.
Early next morning David climbed up to the ledge, bringing with him the coil of rope and the hatchet. As an afterthought he had added a paper bag full of cookies.
"Here's the stuff, Phoenix," he called out as he stepped onto the ledge. "Where are you?"
There was a crash from the thicket as though someone had jumped up in it suddenly, and the Phoenix stumbled out, rubbing its eyes.
"Ah, splendid, my boy! Yes. I was just—ah—Thinking."
"Phoenix," said David, "I'm not going to ask you again what your Plan is, because I know you'll tell me when it's time. But whatever it is, we'd better do it right now. The Scientist may show up any minute."
"Precisely, my boy. Never put off until tomorrow what can be done today. One of my favorite proverbs. We shall begin immediately—" Here the Phoenix caught sight of the bag in David's hand and added hastily: "But, of course, we must not forget that first things come first."
"You might have brought more," said the Phoenix, fifteen minutes later.
"There weren't any more in the jar," David said. "Phoenix, please tell me what we're going to do. I don't care if curiositydidkill the cat. I've been thinking about the rope and wire and bell all night, and I can't make heads or tails out of it."
The Phoenix gave a pleased laugh. "Of course you cannot, my boy. The Plan is far too profound for you to guess what it is. But set your mind at rest. I shall now explain the rope and hatchet."
David leaned forward eagerly.
"Now, scientists, you know, have fixed habits. If you know those habits, you can predict just what they will do at any time. Our particular Scientist is a daytime creature—that is to say, he comes at dawn and goes at dusk. His invariable habit, my boy!"
"Well?"
"There you are, my boy!" said the Phoenix triumphantly. "We shall sleep during the day and continue your education at night!"
"Oh," said David. He thought about this a while, then asked, "But suppose the Scientist comes up on the ledge during the day and catches you asleep?"
"Aha! That is where the rope and hatchet come in. Never fear, my boy—I thought of that also. We are going to construct a snare at each end of the ledge."
"How?"
"Hand me that twig, my boy." The Phoenix took the twig, found a bare spot of earth, and sketched a picture. "First we find a sapling and clear the branches from it with the hatchet—like this. Next we get a stake, cut a notch in it, and drive it into the ground—so. The sapling is bent down to it and fitted into the notch, which holds it down. You see, my boy? Now we make a noose—so—from a piece of rope, tie it to the end of the sapling, and spread the loop out on the path—this way. The whole snare is hidden under grass and leaves." The Phoenix beamed and flung out its wings in a dramatic gesture. "Just picture it, my dear chap! The Scientist, smiling evilly as he skulks along the path! The unwary footstep! The sapling, jarred out of the notch, springing upward! The tightened noose! And our archenemy dangling by the foot in mid-air, completely at our mercy! Magnificent!"
"Golly, Phoenix," said David, "that's pretty clever."
"Clever, my boy? Better to say 'a stroke of genius.' Only I, Phoenix, could have thought of it. And considerthe poetic justice of it! This is exactly the sort of trap that the Scientist once set for me! Well, shall we begin?"
The Phoenix had made the snares sound delightfully simple, but they soon discovered that the job was harder than it sounded. First they had to find the right kind of sapling, springy and strong. The sapling had to be in the right place—one by the goat trail, the other at the farend of the ledge. When they had been chosen, David had to shinny up them to lop off their branches. That was a very awkward business; the saplings swayed and trembled under his weight, and he could only use one hand for the hatchet. Then he had to make two stakes from stout, hard wood, cut a notch at one end, and drive them into the ground with the flat of the hatchet. But the hardest part was trying to bend the sapling down to the stake and fitting it into the notch. It took the weight of both of them to bring the sapling to the ground. If they got the slightest bit off balance, it would spring up again. Once David fell off; the sapling wentswish!back into the air, flinging the astonished Phoenix thirty feet up the mountainside.
It was not until afternoon, when the sun had turned ruddy and shadows were beginning to stretch dark fingers across the land, that they finished the job. But at last the saplings were set in the notches, the nooses were formed and fastened on. Grass and leaves were strewn over the snares; chips, hewn branches, and other evidences of their work were removed. They sat down and looked proudly at each other.
"My boy," said the Phoenix, "I have had a wide, and sometimes painful, experience with traps; so you maybelieve me when I say that these are among the best I have seen. We have done well."
"They're sure strong enough," David agreed, flexing his fingers to take the stiffness out of them. "But what are we going to do if the Scientist does get caught in one?"
"We shall burn that bridge when we reach it, my boy. Now, do you have the pliers, wire-cutters, and screw driver below?"
"Yes, they're down in the cellar. What are we going to do with them, Phoenix?"
"Patience, patience! You will be told when the time comes. I shall meet you tonight after dark, as soon as it is safe for me to come down. I trust you will have everything ready?"
"Are you comingdown?"
"Precisely, my boy. A risk, I admit, but a necessary one. There is a hedge at the back of your house, is there not? Splendid. You may await me there."
David, sitting in the shadow of the hedge, jumped when he heard the Phoenix's quiet "Good evening, my boy."
"Phoenix," he whispered, "how did you do it? Golly, I didn't see you at all, and it isn't even dark yet."
"I have been hunted long enough, my boy, to have learned a few tricks. It is merely a matter of gliding close to the ground, selecting the best shadows, and keeping a sharp lookout. Well, let us get on with the Plan. Have you the tools here?"
"Yes, here they are."
"Splendid! Now, my boy, since we must continue your education during the night, it is necessary that we have some way of getting in touch with each other. If you climb the mountainside in the dark, you may unwittingly fall into our own snare. It is far easier for me to come down than it is for you to go up, and under cover of darkness I can do it quite safely. The question now is, how will you know when I have arrived? That, my boy, is the nub, or crux, of the situation. A difficult problem, you will admit. But I have worked out the solution."
The Phoenix lowered its voice impressively.
"My boy, we are going to install this bell in your room, and the pushbutton on the base of that telephone pole. When I arrive here at night, I shall press the button to let you know that I am ready to go. A magnificent idea, isn't it?"
It did not seem very practical to David. "Well, Phoenix, that's a good idea," he said carefully. "But howare we going to hide the wires? And what about the noise of the bell?"
"Nothing to it, my boy! The wires? There are wires between your house and the telephone pole already—one more would not be noticed. The noise? You have a pillow on your bed, under which the bell can be muffled."
"Yes, that's true." It still sounded impractical.
"Just imagine it!" the Phoenix continued enthusiastically. "Perhaps later we can install another bell at this end. Then we could learn Morse code and send messages to each other. Exactly like a private telephone line!"
Put in this way, the idea had a certain appeal, and David found himself warming to it. But there was another thing to consider.
"How about electricity, Phoenix?"
"Look above you, my boy! The telephone pole is simply loaded down with power lines waiting to be tapped."
The Phoenix was evidently set on carrying out the Plan, and David did not want to wear out the bird's patience with more objections. And—well, why not? There should be no harm in trying it out, anyway.
They gathered up the tools and walked along the hedge to the telephone pole, which was in one corner ofthe yard. The Phoenix began to uncoil the wire, while David gazed up doubtfully at the shadowy maze of lines and insulators on the cross-arms.
"Electricity," said the Phoenix thoughtfully, "is a complicated and profound subject. There are amperes, and there are volts, and there are kilowatt hours. I might also mention positive and negative and—ah—all that sort of thing. Most profound. Perhaps I had better investigate up there. Screw driver, please."
The Phoenix took the screw driver in one claw and flew up to the top of the pole. David could hear the creak of the lines under the Phoenix's weight and the rattling of the screw driver against the porcelain insulators. For some minutes the Phoenix investigated, clicking and scraping about, and muttering "Quite so" and "Therewe are." Then it fluttered down again and rubbed its wings together.
"The whole situation up there is a lot simpler than I thought it would be, my boy. The power lines merely come up to the pole on one side, pass through the insulators, and go away from the pole on the other side. Child's play! The covering on the lines is rather tough, however. We shall have to use the wire-cutters."
The Phoenix returned to the top of the pole withthe cutters, and worked on the wires for five more minutes. Bits of debris began to shower down on the hedge. One of the wires vibrated on a low note like a slack guitar string.
"We must not forget the difference between alternating and direct current, my boy," said the Phoenix as it flew down again. "An important problem, that. Where is our wire? Ah, there we are. The pliers, please."
"Do you need any help up there?" David asked.
"No, everything is coming along beautifully, thank you. I shall have everything finished in a flash."
Trailing one end of the wire in its beak, the Phoenix flew up into the darkness once more. The tinkering sounds began again, and a spurt of falling debris rattled in the leaves of the hedge.
Suddenly it happened. There was a terrific burst of blue light, a sharp squawk from the Phoenix, and a shower of sparks. Another blue flash blazed up. The lights in the house, and down the whole street, flickered and went out. In the blackness which followed, each stage of the Phoenix's descent could be heard as clearly as cannon shots: the twanging and snapping as it tumbled through the wires, a drawn-out squawk and the flop of wings in the air below, the crash into the hedge, thejarring thud against the ground. Broken wires began to sputter ominously and fire out sparks. A smell of singed feathers and burning rubber filled the air.
By the light of the sparks David saw the Phoenix staggering to its feet. He jumped to the bird's side, but the Phoenix waved him away with its wing.
"Quick, my boy," it gasped. "We must make a strategic retreat! Meet me on the ledge in the morning. Ouch!" The Phoenix beat at the smoldering sparks in its tail and flew off, leaving a trail of acrid smoke hanging in the air.
David had the presence of mind to gather up all the tools, the wire, bell, and pushbutton, and one of the Phoenix's feathers, which had been torn out during the fall. He slipped through a cellar window, hid the equipment under a stack of old boxes, and ran noisily up the stairs into the kitchen.
"Hey!" he shouted. "The lights are out!"
"Is that you, dear?" came Mother's anxious voice from the dining room.
"The telephone's dead!" Dad shouted from the hall.
Aunt Amy came bumping down the stairs with a candle. "It's that burglar!" she cried. "Turning out all the lights so he can murder us in our beds!"
"Look!" David shouted, "the line's broken in our back yard!"
They could hear the wailing of sirens now. Fire trucks, repair trucks, and police cars pulled up in front of the house. Everyone in the block turned out to see what had happened. It took the repair men an hour to untanglethe wires and fix them. And all the time policemen were going through the crowd, asking questions and writing things down in their notebooks. They were looking rather haggard, David thought.
8:In Which David and thePhoenix Visit a Banshee,and a Surprise Is Plantedin the Enemy's Camp
Next day Mother asked David to help her straighten out the garden, which had been trampled by the repair men; so he could not go to see the Phoenix until after lunch. But when that was finished, he rushed up the mountainside as fast as he could, wondering all the way what he and the Phoenix were going to do now.
The ledge was empty when he got there. He shouted, "Phoenix!" and listened.
"Hel-l-lp!" came a faint answering cry from the other end of the ledge.
David jumped through the thicket. A pitiful sight met his eyes. There was the Phoenix, dangling by one foot from the snare, its wings feebly struggling and its free foot clawing the air. The feathers of its wings and tail were singed. Great beads of sweat rolled from its forehead into a puddle on the ground below. The snared foot was blue and swollen.
"Get me down," gasped the Phoenix weakly.
David took a running leap at the sapling, which broke under the sudden increase of weight, and the two of them crashed to the ground. He unfastened the noose and dragged the Phoenix to the shadiest, softest spot on the ledge.
"Hoist with my own petard," said the Phoenix bitterly. "Rub my foot, will you? Oh dear oh dear oh dear! Hurts."
"What happened?" David asked as he rubbed the swollen foot. "How long have you been caught?"
"Missed my way in the dark," said the Phoenix, wiping its brow. "Thought I was on the other side ofthe ledge, and landed right on that fool trap. Hung there all night and all morning. Thought you would never come, my boy. Oh dear, oh dear, what a horrible experience! My tail was still on fire when I landed, too. I fully expected to be burned to a crisp." A large tear rolled down the Phoenix's beak.
David murmured soothing words and continued to chafe the Phoenix's foot. "Does it feel any better now?"
"The feeling is coming back, my boy," said the Phoenix, gritting its beak. "Ouch! All pins and needles." It flexed its toes gingerly. "Rub a bit more, please. Gently."
The swelling began to go down. With a handful of damp grass David soothed the marks left by the noose.
"That stupid Electric Company!" the Phoenix suddenly burst out. "Putting everyone in danger with a short-circuited power line! Let this be a lesson to you, my boy. Anything worth doing is worth doing well. They will hear from us, believe me! We shall write them a stiff complaint!"
"Well, Phoenix," said David hopefully, "we can set the snare again if we can find another good sapling; and we still have the other one, so we're pretty well protected. And why couldn't we meet every night by thehedge, the way we did last night? The bell was a good idea, but wecouldget along without it."
The Phoenix sighed. "I suppose you are right, my boy. There is no use crying over spilt milk. One must set one's jaw and—good heavens, my boy!Duck!"
The Phoenix threw itself to the ground and wildly motioned to David to do the same. He flattened himself out beside the bird and said, "What is it, Phoenix?"
"Down the mountainside," whispered the Phoenix. "Look! Do not stick your head over too far."
David wormed his way to the edge, peered down, and gasped. Below him, on the grassy slope at the foot of the scarp, was a figure clad in khaki. It was the Scientist.
"Do you think he saw us?" the Phoenix whispered.
"I don't think so," David whispered back. "He's looking off to the left. Oh, Phoenix, what if he comes up here? What'll we do?"
"Listen," hissed the Phoenix, "run down there. Talk to him, lead him away, distract his attention, anything. Only be quick!"
"All right!"
The Phoenix melted into the thicket, and David jumped to his feet. As he dashed down the trail his brain whirled with questions. What should he do? What couldhe say? How could he lead the Scientist away? Where would the Phoenix go?
In his haste he forgot one important thing. His foot tripped over the pile of grass and leaves on the trail. The released sapling sprang upward, the noose tightened with a cruel jerk around his ankle, and he was snatched into the air. As the blood rushed to his head he lost control of himself and began to struggle wildly and shout at the top of his voice.
The flat dry voice of the Scientist drifted to him as if through a long tunnel. "What's all this? What are you doing here? Who set this snare?"
"Get me down," David choked. "Please!"
A hand seized him by the scruff of the neck. A knife flashed through the air and cut the rope. David landed on his feet, but his legs gave way and he dropped to his knees. He felt dizzy as the blood rushed away from his head again.
The Scientist tilted his sun helmet back and said, "Well, well—David," in a disagreeable tone. His eyes narrowed behind the spectacles. "What is this snare doing here?"
David struggled to his feet and clutched a bush for support. "Thank you for cutting me down," he said.
The cold blue eyes found David's and held them in a hypnotic stare. "What is this trap doing here? Who set it?"
"I—I was coming down the trail and—and—I was caught in it," David stammered.
"You are avoiding my question, young man," said the Scientist. "Who—set—this—snare? Answer me!"
There was a brilliant flash of gold and blue in the sunlight, the whistle of feathers cleaving the air, the sharpthwock!of fisted talons striking. The Scientist pitched forward with a surprised grunt and lay still across the trail—and the Phoenix, executing a flip in the air to check its speed, settled down beside David.
"View halloo!" it shouted excitedly. "Yoicks and Tallyho! Did you see that stoop, my boy? By Jove, the best-trained falcon could not have done better! Believe me, I have been saving that blow for a long time! By Jove, what a magnificent stoop! I think I shall take up Scientist-hunting as a regular thing!"
"Thank goodness, Phoenix!" David exclaimed. "Another minute and you would've been too late! But I hope you haven't—hurt him very much."
"Nonsense, my boy," said the Phoenix. "A head so stuffed with scientific fact cannot be injured. He willcome to in a short while." The Phoenix lifted the Scientist's sun helmet and examined the back of his head. "A large lump is developing, my boy. A most pleasant sight! I fear the sun helmet is now useless—crushed like an eggshell." And the Phoenix smiled proudly.