Chapter Five
"GOVERNMENT documents?" Gomer, Carter, and Boyle repeated in shock.
"That's right. They stole about twenty different documents from Colonel Gray's office about a half-hour ago," Duke replied.
"What kinds of government documents?" Gomer queried.
"Oh, stuff like missile plans, and new airplane technology and things like that," Duke said.
"Mercy! Who would do such a thing?" Gomer cried.
"That's what everyone here is trying to find out," Duke responded. Suddenly he turned, as if to run off.
"Hey! Where're you going in such a hurry?" Carter called.
Duke turned back. "I'm on searching detail."
"Searching detail?" Carter reiterated incredulously.
"Uh huh. Just in case, for some reason, the thief hid the documents somewhere. I'm also looking for any clues to where this thief went with the papers." Duke turned and ran off.
Carter drove the Jeep to Company B's parking lot and turned off the engine. "Well, now this is something new. Maybe that espionage theory of yours is correct, Boyle," he said as they went over to the duty hut.
Instantly they knew something was wrong. The duty hut door refused to open, as if something had been jammed in it.
"What's the matter with this thing?" Carter burst out after a particularly hard yank had sent him falling backwards into Boyle's arms.
"I sure don't know, Sergeant, but maybe we could peek through the window here." Gomer walked over to the window and peeked in, then gasped.
"What is it, Pyle?" Carter asked. Boyle looked equally puzzled.
"I don't know exactly what's been going on in there, Sergeant," Gomer began, "but the duty hut's been torn apart!"
The words hit like arrows. Carter and Boyle hurried to peek through some of the other windows. They saw that Gomer was definitely right. The duty hut had been torn apart. Chairs were everywhere. Filing cabinets had been tipped over. The lockers were standing wide open.
But what was puzzling was why the door wouldn't open. It opened outward, so if anything had fallen in front of it, it wouldn't have affected the door.
"Maybe the door is jammed," Gomer suggested. "Or even locked from the inside."
Carter looked disgusted. "Pyle, the duty hut door doesn't have a lock on it!"
"Well, it must be jammed then."
Carter walked over to the door and gave a mighty tug. With a creak of protest, the door finally opened.
The Marines walked inside. Everything looked worse when they were standing right in the middle of the obstacle course.
"Shazam! What on earth's been happening in here?" Gomer cried.
"Maybe those spies who stole the government documents are after something here, too," Boyle commented.
"We don't have anything they'd want!" Carter retorted.
"Well, yeah, but the spies wouldn't know that we didn't have something they wanted," Boyle insisted.
"Maybe so," Carter admitted, "but if they were looking for something here, it stands to reason that the other companies' duty huts would have been ransacked too."
He made his way through the battle zone over to the telephone. When the operator came on, Carter said, "Get me Sergeant Hacker, Company C."
While he waited for Hacker to pick up the phone, Boyle and Gomer went about the room, righting filing cabinets and chairs, and shutting lockers.
"Hello, Charley?" they heard Carter say. "Vince. I was just wondering if the mess hall was ransacked. . . . Yeah, I know it's a ridiculous question, but it's important! . . . Oh. The mess hall wasn't ransacked?"
Boyle and Gomer looked up from the files they were going through and listened more intently to Carter's side of the conversation.
"Why was I asking? Oh, no good reason. It's just that the duty hut here was ransacked and I wondered if any other place had been. . . . They weren't? That's weird. Well, see you later, Charley." Carter abruptly hung up. "None of the other places were ransacked," he reported. "Hacker says that after someone stole those government documents from Colonel Gray's office he went around asking the other sergeants if their places had been ripped apart too." He glanced about the labyrinth, which was much more straight by now. "So, it appears that our place was the only one that was." He threw up his hands. "Why?"
"Golly, Sergeant. I sure don't know," Gomer said.
"There must be something specific whoever it was wants from us," Boyle mused.
"Apparently," Carter agreed. "But what?"
Boyle picked up several pencils which had rolled out of their container and onto the floor. "Maybe when we've got everything straightened up we'll be able to determine whether anything is missing."
Suddenly Gomer remembered something. "You know, we never have got to the library."
Carter looked befuddled. "Library? What's that got to do with anything?"
"We were going to look up some things at the town library, Vince," Boyle replied, "but we never got that far. That was the night of our last baby-sitting misadventure."
The Marines continued fixing things in the duty hut. It wasn't too much longer before everything was in order again.
"Well? Is anything missing?" Carter asked.
"I didn't notice anything," Gomer responded. "Did you, Corporal?"
Boyle was going through the desks' drawers. "Well, so far the only thing missing is a picture of Bunny."
Carter and Gomer were appalled. "A picture of Bunny?" Carter burst out. "Who'd want a picture of Bunny? Some guy out to steal her away from me?"
Boyle couldn't be sure if Carter was being serious or sardonic.
"Well, actually, there is one other thing missing," the Corporal said as he closed the drawers. "Your five-dollar fountain pen."
"Shazam! Who'd steal that?" Gomer exclaimed.
"Pyle, don't tell me Maxine is hanging around again!" Carter said irritated. He was referring to one of Gomer's many animals friends—a crow—who had often stolen things in the past, and, in fact, had stolen Carter's pen before.
"Oh, no, Sergeant!" Gomer said quickly. "Maxine hasn't been around for years!"
Carter went over to the filing cabinets and opened a drawer. "Maybe some files were stolen," he said.
Remembering something, Boyle suddenly looked around. "Hey! Where's that piece of metal?"
Gomer held it up. "It's right here, Corporal."
"Maybe we ought to dust it for fingerprints," Boyle said.
Carter looked up from the drawer. "How could we dust it for fingerprints, Boyle? We don't have a fingerprint kit!"
"Well, it shouldn't be too hard," Boyle mused, then headed for the door.
"Hey! Where're you going?" Carter asked.
"I'm going to see if Hacker has any flour we can borrow," Boyle answered. "We can sprinkle flour over the metal and then use Scotch tape to lift up any finger prints!"
"Well, that's that." Carter sighed. "No fingerprints. Whoever handled that thing must have been wearing kid gloves!"
"Or maybe nobody handled it at all," Gomer interjected. "It might have fallen off the flying saucer as it was taking off!"
"Pyle, will you forget that flying saucer?" Carter burst out. "It was probably just some top-secret government project or maybe—if that metal really did fall off of it—a foreign espionage flying device!"
"Those are all possibilities, Vince," Boyle said, "and a flying saucer is one of them, too."
"Maybe so, but it's about the slightest possibility in the world," Carter replied. "Things like that always have a logical explanation. It could've even been another Martian movie."
"But I tell you, Sergeant, I didn't see any cameras or people or anything!" Gomer said.
"You didn't see any the other time either," Carter shot back.
"Well, no, but that was because I didn't even consider that possibility then," Gomer responded. "This time I did, and I looked for cameras, but I didn't find any."
"But that doesn't mean it wasn't a movie," Carter persisted.
"But, Vince, if there was a movie being shot there, wouldn't the police know about it?" Boyle pointed out.
"I guess you're right, Boyle," Carter admitted. "It probably wasn't a movie. But it wasn't a real-life flying saucer!" he added quickly.
"How do you know, Sergeant?" Gomer asked.
"Things like that just aren't possible!" Carter responded. "Somehow it must have been logical!"
"Well, I hope you're right, Sergeant," Gomer said doubtfully.
"What about Professor Merriweather's strange phone call?" Gomer said, remembering.
"Maybe we ought to snoop around in his office when no one's there," Carter suggested. "There might be some kind of ominous thing that would tie in with the mystery."
"Why, Sergeant!" Gomer exclaimed. "We just can't go rooting around in Professor Merriweather's office! We just can't!"
"Yeah, Vince," Boyle spoke up. "Isn't there an easier way to find out information?"
"Like what?" Carter challenged. "Do you have any better ideas?"
Boyle sighed. "Well, no," he admitted.
"But, Sergeant? What if the professor's call has nothing to do with the mystery?" Gomer persisted.
"That's what we're going to find out, Pyle!" Carter shot back. In hushed tones, he continued. "Now, the university is open late for those night-class students. The professor should be teaching a class in about . . ." Carter consulted his watch ". . . thirty minutes. Now, he probably leaves his office door unlocked, but just in case he doesn't, we can sneak in through the window he always keeps open for fresh air."
He stood up and made a bee-line for the front door, then turned back. "Well, come on, you guys! This could be a big break for us! The professor might unknowingly be able to help us solve this nutty case!"
Boyle and Gomer followed, Gomer quite reluctantly.
"Now, Pyle, just climb up to the window there and see if anyone's there," Carter instructed.
They all looked up at the second-story window.
"Golly, Sergeant, I don't know," Gomer protested.
"Oh, c'mon, Pyle! Maybe the professor's in danger and we could help him!" Carter suggested frantically.
At this, Gomer instantly became more willing to help. "Mercy! If the professor's in trouble we'd sure want to help him!"
"Yes, Pyle, and this is how we can help him." Carter gestured upward at the window.
Gomer glanced up at it again. "Just one thing, Sergeant."
"What's that?" Carter said, fearing some crazy downhome idea.
"How do I get up there?"
"Golly, it sure is a nice place. He's got a water cooler and one of them new saddle staplers and . . ."
"Pyle!" Carter was definitely loosing patience. "We didn't come all the way out here just to listen to you give us the inventory! Is anyone there?"
"No, I don't rightly think there is. It's not a very big place, so if someone was around, I'm sure I'd see them."
Carter nodded impatiently. "Alright, Pyle. Climb in and we'll follow."
In a few minutes Carter and Boyle heard a loud scuffling sound, then a crash. Carter grimaced.
"What was that?" Boyle exclaimed.
"Three guesses," Carter replied sardonically. Then calling: "Pyle! Be quiet up there! Do you want to let the whole campus know of your presence?"
A muffled reply came. "I'm sorry, Sergeant. I lost my footing, is what. I fell behind the desk."
"Well, do you see anything interesting?" Carter asked as he and Boyle boarded the crumbling ladder.
"Not right off."
Carter reached the window and climbed into the room. He couldn't even see Gomer.
"Pyle! Where are you?"
"Right here, Sergeant." Gomer peeked up from under the desk just as Boyle was trying to come in. "And look what I found!" He excitedly held up a curved object.
Carter and Boyle both looked at it. "A horseshoe?" Carter exclaimed in disbelief.
"Isn't that nice. Now Professor Merriweather will have good luck!" Gomer turned the horseshoe around and around.
Carter looked disgusted.
Boyle glanced up at the ceiling. "You know, I wonder why the professor left the lights on in here."
Carter looked about the room, which was rather large for an office. "Maybe it means he'll be coming back soon. It might not be a very long class to teach."
Gomer quickly set the horseshoe back under the desk.
"Now, Pyle, you start going through the desk drawers." Carter started giving orders. "Boyle, you look in the filing cabinet, and I'll go through this hurricane on top of the desk." He gestured at the papers scattered about on the desk-top.
The Marines went to their posts and began doing the appointed searching. Gomer finished looking through the drawers within ten minutes. "There sure isn't much in those drawers," he said. "Just some pamphlets on certain subjects."
Carter went to look at the bulletin board. "Well, can it. Start going through the books, in case he hid something there."
Gomer was just moving to the bookshelf when Boyle said suddenly, "Hey, Pyle? What subjects were they?"
"Well," said Gomer after thinking a moment, "Since Professor Merriweather studies metals, the pamphlets were all about the metals of the world. Except one," he added.
"What was that one about?" Boyle asked.
"UFOs," was the startling answer.
"UFOs?" Boyle repeated.
Carter looked up from the bulletin board. "What kind of UFOs?"
"The kind from outer space," Gomer replied, digging around in the drawer to find it. "Here it is!" he said, triumphantly holding it up. "Are UFOs Really From Outer Space?" he read.
"Well, let's take it with us, Pyle," Carter said, shuffling through the messages on the bulletin board. "It could be a valuable clue!"
"But won't Professor Merriweather miss it?" Boyle asked.
Carter thought about that for a moment. "Shuffle the other pamphlets around in there wildly, Pyle," he instructed. "Maybe he won't realize it's missing until later. But even then, he won't realize anyone took it. He'll probably just think he mislaid it."
"I don't know about this, Sergeant," Gomer said doubtfully as he did the instructed work. "Frankly, I just feel funny about this whole thing!"
"Oh, Pyle, we're doing the professor a favor!" Carter said, annoyed that they would have to get back on that subject again.
Boyle had finished going through the files and now went to look in the books. Carter assisted him while Gomer explored the door to the inner office, where the professor had analyzed the metal earlier that day.
"I can't get in here, Sergeant," Gomer called. "It's locked."
"Let me try." Carter came over and tried to pick the lock with one of Bunny's hairpins. No soap. The door refused to budge.
"Hey, here's something!" Boyle said, holding up a folded piece of paper. "It's some kind of ominous message. I found it here on the bookshelf. I think the professor must have been real upset by it."
Carter and Gomer whirled around from the door they were struggling to open. "Ominous message?" Carter repeated.
"Yeah. Has anyone got a pencil and paper?" Boyle inquired.
"I have!" Gomer volunteered. "But this is my lucky pencil, so we'll have to be real careful not to loose it."
"Pyle! For heaven's sake!" Carter yelled. "There's no such thing as a lucky pencil!"
"Oh yes there is, Sergeant," Gomer insisted. "Just last week this pencil protected me from catching a cold."
"Pyle! That's ridiculous and you know it!" Carter screamed at Gomer. "Pencils—or Troll dolls—cannot protect you from bad things happening!"
"But Sergeant . . ."
"No buts, Pyle! Let's get on with copying this message!" Carter turned to Boyle. "What does it say?"
Boyle unfolded the note. "It says, ‘1122.'"
"Shazam!" Gomer exclaimed. "What in the world are they talkin' about?"
Boyle shrugged. "Who knows?"
"What in the world?" Carter burst out. "None of this is making sense!"
Just then the phone jangled. Nobody knew what to do. Finally Boyle said, "I'd better get the phone. If someone hears it ringing, they might come in here."
So he snatched up the receiver. "Hello, Professor Merriweather's office."
Apparently whoever the caller was, he thought Boyle was Professor Merriweather. "1122," the voice hissed. "Bring the plans or you'll never see her again!" Then with a click, the person abruptly hung up.
Boyle put down the receiver slowly, looking shocked.
"What in the world was it, Corporal?" Gomer asked.
"Someone thought I was the professor," Boyle replied in a far-away voice. "He said ‘1122. Bring the plans or you'll never see her again!'"
"This is weird!" Carter remarked. "The professor seems to be in trouble, alright." He threw up his hands. "What does all this mean? Who's ‘her'? What plans?"
"Obviously, something big is going on," Boyle mused. Suddenly, he said, "Hey! Maybe ‘1122' means the twenty-second of this month!"
Carter and Gomer stared at their friend.
"The twenty-second of this month?" Gomer repeated. "Shazam!"
"Does that mean this mystery has to be solved by the twenty-second?" Carter demanded.
"Probably," Boyle replied. "Today's the seventeenth. We've only got a few days."
"Should we ask the professor what's going on?" Gomer asked.
"No!" Carter instantly burst out. "What if he's a crook and blabs it to his pals?"
"Shame, shame, shame!" Gomer scolded. "How could Professor Merriweather be a crook? He's one of the nicest people I know!"
"That phone call was meant for him," Boyle said. "I wonder what we're going to do on that score? He needs to get the message. Someone he knows apparently is in danger."
"Maybe we can leave the message by the telephone," Carter suggested. "He'll think his secretary brought it."
"Now that's a good idea!" Gomer agreed. He copied the message on a Post-It note and stuck it on the phone. He wrote up another copy to take with them.
"Maybe we could drop by in the morning and see how he behaves," Carter continued. "If he's not a crook, he might tell us something of what's been going on."
Just then they heard footsteps coming down the hall.
"What's that?" Gomer asked in hushed tones.
"You don't know?" Carter replied sardonically.
They heard someone pause outside the door and try the knob. Finding it was locked, they took out a key chain. The Marines could hear the keys jangling around.
"Shazam!" Gomer said. "I think whoever's there is coming in!"
