Chapter Seven
"VANISHED?" Carter repeated. He could hardly believe what he hearing.
"That's correct." The secretary made a move to hang up the phone.
"Wait a minute!" Carter yelled into the phone. "How long has he been missing?"
"He never returned to his office after he taught the late-night class at nine-thirty," the secretary responded.
"What do the police say?" Carter queried. In the background, Boyle and Gomer exchanged shocked looks over the whole matter.
"They think he was abducted," the secretary said.
"What?" Carter exclaimed. "Why?"
"They found evidence in his office that makes it look like someone was threatening him, so they think the threateners got perturbed and abducted him. Either that or something upset him and he ran away to fix it. Now if you'll excuse me, I must be going." The secretary hung up. The click was as final as the period at the end of a sentence.
"What was that all about?" Boyle exclaimed.
"Professor Merriweather's vanished!" Carter declared, then related the entire story to his friends.
"That's awful!" cried Gomer at the conclusion.
"Now it's getting really weird," Carter said. "There's all these incidents that don't seem to connect. It's like trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle with the wrong pieces in the wrong places."
"You said it," Boyle sighed.
"You guys seem to get into the craziest predicaments lately," Bunny remarked.
"Mercy, Charles!" Mary Ann said to her "Honey Corporal." "What's going to happen next?"
"That's what we need to figure out, Miss Harper, and prevent it," Boyle replied.
Lou-Ann laid her menu on the table. "You boys better be careful! These criminals sound terribly ruthless and they'd probably stop at nothing to knock you off the case!"
Mary Ann, determined, said, "We're going to help you investigate!"
"Chasing dangerous enemy spies and flying saucers is no pastime for women," Boyle protested.
"Well, whatever the case, we're going to help," Bunny agreed.
"But Bunny . . ." Carter protested.
"You boys have all kinds of interesting adventures and we're not going to miss them just because we're women," Lou-Ann declared.
The Marines tried several more times to convince the girls to give up the idea, but they refused.
"We're gonna help!" said Mary Ann firmly. "Just tell us what to do." Giggling, she added, "I've always wanted to be Nancy Drew."
Realizing it was useless to get the girls to give up their idea, the Marines finally assigned them to the safest job they could think of.
"Alright," Carter sighed. "Go to the library tomorrow and read up on spies and flying saucers and things like that that connect to our case."
The girls agreed, somewhat grudgingly, but Mary Ann added, "We want to join you the next time you do something really exciting, like chase the crooks down the highway!"
The Marines all groaned, and Gomer said, "That's too dangerous!"
"Well, haven't you ever heard of Nancy Drew or Honey West?" Mary Ann persisted.
Of course they had. Nancy Drew, they knew, was a famous girl detective in novels. And Honey West was a detective on TV.
The girls looked satisfied that they had proved their point.
"Nothing connects!" Gomer said. "There's all these pieces that are supposed to fit together, but we can't seem to make them fit. Flying saucers, disappearing professors, ominous phone calls . . . there's just so much!"
"Sounds like you and the Sarge and Corporal Boyle have a big job ahead of you," Duke commented.
"Oh, it's big, alright," Gomer agreed. "And the girls have decided to assist us!"
"Really?" said Mallerby. "What's your next move in the case?"
"I don't know. We might drop by the university to try and find out more about Professor Merriweather's disappearance. And we need to take that big rock someone hurtled at us to the police and have them dust it for fingerprints. And, well . . ." Gomer seemed reluctant to discuss the next aspect.
"Well, what, Pyle?" Lester asked.
"Yeah! Tell us, Gome!" Mallerby added.
"Well . . . I don't think Sergeant Carter would enjoy this aspect, but we might go on a search for flying saucers."
Duke, Frankie, and Mallerby laughed. Lester looked curious. "Flying saucers?" he repeated.
"Uh huh. You know, like out in fields where I saw that one the other day," Gomer responded.
"Sounds promising," Mallerby said after the laughter had subsided.
"Do you expect to find little men?" Lester asked.
"If we find a flying saucer, we might go inside," Gomer said hesitantly. "That would be something."
"Would it ever!" Frankie chortled.
"Be looking for you on the Flying Saucer Express," Duke joked as he left for a date with his girl, Daisy. Then he turned back. "You know, Gome, you really are treading on dangerous ground. And I'm not kidding this time."
"Oh, I know, Duke," Gomer assured his friend. "But we've got to solve these mysteries. We have to help the professor and the entire United States!"
"The entire United States?" Mallerby restated.
"Uh huh. You see, with these government papers stolen, who knows what harm'll come to our country?" Gomer said.
"I guess you're right," Frankie conceded.
"If we don't find those papers, the whole country will be in jeopardy," Gomer continued.
"If we can find time, Pyle, perhaps we can help you in your investigation," Lester volunteered.
"Well, if you could, I sure would appreciate it. It would really help our country," Gomer answered.
Mallerby suddenly made a bee-line for the door.
"Where are you going?" Duke asked him.
"I remembered I have a date too," Mallerby replied. "For six P.M. It's already five-thirty."
At the university, Carter seemed to fall in love with the professor's red-haired secretary.
"Well, hel-lo," he said suavely.
Boyle looked at Gomer with an "Oh no" expression. Gomer looked back. He was puzzled. He wasn't aware of what was going on, but Boyle was. He knew how Carter was about girls. The last time this had happened, the girl had turned out to be a criminal.
Carter looked like he was going to ask her out next, and Boyle hurriedly interrupted. Right now they were on a case.
"We were just wondering more about Professor Merriweather's disappearance."
"Well, it was really a queer thing," the secretary began. "It was right after his lecture. The only one who saw him leave the classroom was Professor Grant. He says Professor Merriweather said he was going back to his office, but I was here until the university closed for the night at midnight, but he never showed up. And his car was still in the parking lot. It's not now," she added quickly. "The police took it in case there was some clue in it."
"Sounds terribly mysterious," Gomer commented. "I sure hope nothing horrible happened to him!"
"Tell us more about this Professor Grant, please," Boyle requested.
"He doesn't really like Professor Merriweather. He's had a grudge against him for years."
"A grudge!" Gomer exclaimed. "Those are terrible things!"
"What about this grudge?" Carter inquired. "What's it all about?"
"I don't know exactly," the secretary admitted, "but from what I've heard, it concerns Professor Merriweather being the best expert on metals at the university. Professor Grant wanted to be the best expert. He was no. 2, but only by a hair. Now, if something happened to Professor Merriweather, Professor Grant would get his wish to teach the classes."
The Marines looked at each other.
"Do the police suspect Professor Grant?" Boyle finally asked.
"I told them about the grudge," the secretary said, "but they said what an honorable, dignified person Professor Grant is and ruled him out."
"Did they even question him?" Carter inquired next.
"A little," replied the secretary. "He said he was outraged at such an insinuation. Frankly," she said confidentially, "I wouldn't trust him from here to New Zealand! I wouldn't be in the least surprised if he had kidnapped Professor Merriweather. He says he has an alibi for the time Professor Merriweather disappeared. But that doesn't mean he didn't hire an accomplice." Then she added in even more hushed tones, "This university used to be used for smuggling jewels back in the thirties. There's a trapdoor somewhere in the building, but no one knows where."
The Marines were shocked. They'd certainty never heard anything like that!
Carter waved Boyle and Gomer away. "Why don't you two track down this Professor Grant and interrogate him?"
"What about you, Sergeant?" Gomer asked.
Carter danced all around that subject. "Go find Professor Grant," he repeated.
"Well, alright, Sergeant," Gomer said.
As he and Boyle walked off, Boyle remarked, "I think Sergeant Carter is having another infatuation."
They heard the girl gladly accepted a dinner date for the next night and say her name was Alma.
"No, no! This is ridiculous! I did not have anything to do with Professor Merriweather's disappearance!" they heard him screaming indignantly. Then the receiver slammed down. Timidly, Gomer knocked on the open door.
"What is it?" Professor Grant said gruffly. He did a double-take when he saw his visitors were Marines. "What's the Marine Corps want with me?" he burst out. His eyes narrowed. "I suppose you guys think I kidnapped Professor Merriweather too."
"Well, we were just wondering . . ." Boyle began.
"Yeah, you were just wondering what a criminal like myself is doing out of Sing Sing!"
Boyle and Gomer were taken aback by his manner.
"Of course not!" Gomer exclaimed. "Why, I'd never dream of such a thing! My Grandma Pyle always said, ‘Look for the good in everyone.' Why, if I saw you walking down the street, I'd just consider you a regular person. I don't think you kidnapped Professor Merriweather or had a friend do it either. I think you're entirely innocent, no matter what others say. People are innocent until proven guilty!" the Private finished.
Professor Grant's manner softened a little. "Well, I'm glad there's someone who believes I'm not a criminal! It's true that I'd like to be no. 1 on the list, but I wouldn't go far as kidnapping!"
"Well, that's real good to know, Professor," Gomer continued. "Always look for the silver lining on each cloud. No. 2 is pretty good too. It's better than no. 10."
Professor Grant half-smiled. "You have a point there, Marine." He paused. "Now, what did you come here for?"
Gomer looked to Boyle for help.
"We just wondered if Professor Merriweather told you any place he might be going," Boyle said quickly.
"Well . . ." Professor Grant stared at the ceiling. "It does seem like he mentioned some strange, ominous thing. Right after he said he was going back to his office, he changed his mind and said, ‘No, I think I'd better not. I can't wait till the 22th.' He seemed very nervous. I have no idea why. I was going to question him on such an odd remark, but I was called to the telephone. By the time I got off, Professor Merriweather had disappeared."
"Oh, mercy!" Gomer cried.
"Did you tell this to the police?" Boyle asked.
"I wondered whether I should, because Professor Merriweather acted as though he wanted the whole thing kept hush-hush. I wound up telling the police, if they promised not to tell it around where reporters would hear and bring it to the papers." He glanced at his watch. "Well, I'd better go. Since Professor Merriweather has, shall we say, flown the coop, I have to teach the late class tonight, and it starts in a few minutes. It was nice meeting you two." He dashed out the door. Gomer and Boyle followed.
"You know, he's a pretty nice man," Gomer declared. "I can't understand why that secretary, Miss Alma, said she didn't trust him."
"It's possible he has a split personality," Boyle suggested. "Maybe he acts really rude when the secretary's around."
"Split personalities sure are strange," was Gomer's only comment.
"‘Take the rock to the police and look for your flying saucers. I'll be back at the base later. The rock's behind the desk,'" Boyle read. That was all the note said, but Corporal Charles Boyle could read between the lines. Carter had taken Miss Alma out on a date.
Boyle reached behind the desk and extricated the large rock, wrapped in plastic.
"What in the world is the rock doin' here?" Gomer wondered.
"Let's just say that Sergeant Carter took the car," Boyle said, slightly amused, slightly miffed.
"Well, we're sure it was the guy Sergeant Carter and Sergeant Hacker chased up on the roof of that building at Camp Henderson," Gomer said quickly.
"Probably so, but he sure won't confess to anything," Hansen sighed. "We'll keep trying."
"Do you think flying saucers will land tonight?" Gomer asked.
"Who knows?" Boyle replied. "They might."
"Sure would be terrible if the aliens aren't friendly," Gomer said.
"Well, we'll just have to hope they are," Boyle commented, trying desperately to keep a straight face.
Just then a green light soared across the sky.
"There's it is, Corporal!" Gomer cried. "Right up there!"
"Is that the same one we saw while baby-sitting the Lodge kids?" Boyle wondered.
"Most likely is," Gomer answered, "but you never know, Corporal. This might be an entirely different one."
The green light got larger and brighter.
"Corporal, I think it's going to land!" Gomer gasped.
Indeed, the green light looked about ready to descend. It hovered over the field Boyle and Gomer had parked the Jeep next to. Then, suddenly, it disappeared entirely.
"Oh, mercy! Where'd it go?" Gomer exclaimed, leaping right up in the Jeep.
"I don't know," Boyle said, puzzled. "It just seemed to disappear!"
"It did!" Gomer replied, horrified.
The Marines glanced up into the sky for nigh unto twenty minutes, but the green light never reappeared. So they drove back to Camp Henderson, wondering what the new angles of this odd case meant.
