"There's more. Sandy recognized Lefty's small friend too. This is an odd one, Rick. The man is Dr. Elbert K. Drews. He was fired six months ago by Space Electronics Industries. It was a big story for us, because the plant is located in the next town. The reason he was fired came out during the monopoly investigations. Turned out he had been selling the firm's industrial secrets to its competitors. It was a shock, because he had such a big reputation as an electronics wizard. He got some kind of national prize a year ago for developing a new high-speed system for something. Let's see--here's my note. It says, 'Dr. Drews was the originator of a new and unusual system for the rapid telemetry of data from space. The system is considered remarkable for its compactness and speed of operation. The ground installation is scarcely larger than a console-model television set.' Hope that means something to you, Rick." "Thanks a million, Ken. It seems to fit, but I'm not sure how." "Let us know if you find out. And if we can do anything else, you know the phone number." "We'll call if anything comes up. Thanks again, Ken." Rick hung up and stared at the phone thoughtfully, trying to fit this new information into the scheme of things. Scotty had been sitting on the edge of his chair since the conversation started. He said, with some exasperation, "Well? Out with it!" "Mr. Merlin is Lefty Camillion. His pal is an electronics wizard who was fired by Space Electronics Industries for selling industrial secrets to the firm's competitors." Rick rapidly sketched in the rest of the conversation. Scotty sank back into his chair. "His hair was black, and now it's white. He must have been keeping it dyed, and decided to go natural. And he shaved off that mustache. Probably that was dyed black, too." "You're right." Rick shook his head in dismay. Lefty Camillion, whose first name was Thomas, was a notorious crime syndicate leader who had come into prominence about two years ago during Senate investigations of racketeering. In three days Camillion had become a television personality, of sorts, when it became clear that he apparently was responsible for a number of murders and a thousand lesser crimes, although he himself had not done the actual killings. There was insufficient evidence to jail him, but enough to deport him. He dropped out of sight while his lawyers were fighting the deportation proceedings. Now he had shown up again, on the Eastern Shore. "A crime syndicate chief, a crooked scientist, flying stingarees, an old mansion, a peculiar antenna, and a missing crabber. What does it add up to?" Rick demanded. Scotty shrugged. He didn't answer. There was no answer--yet. CHAPTER XI On the Bottom