Danny Dunn and the Weather Machine by Jay Williams, Raymond Abrashkin Page B

the reservoir. It—it might have germs on it from another planet. It might poison the whole town.”
    â€œHow can we get to it?” Irene asked, frowning. Joe looked about. His eye fell on a long, dead branch that had blown down from one of the pine trees. He got it, and went out to the edge of the rocks.
    â€œDanny, you hold my hand,” he said. “I’ll reach out and try to catch hold of the parachute.”
    Danny took his friend’s hand, and Joe leaned far out with the stick. The parachute was just out of his reach. Further and further he stretched, and suddenly his hand slipped out of Danny’s. With a splash, he went headfirst into the water.
    Irene uttered a shriek. Danny fell over backward on the rocks. Gasping and blowing, Joe came to the surface and shook the water out of his eyes.
    â€œOh, well,” he said. “Now I’m in, I might as well swim out and get the thing.”
    A few strokes took him to the parachute. Using his branch, he hooked it up gingerly and brought it to shore. Danny took it from him, and Irene helped him up to the rocks.
    â€œAnyway,” he said, wiping his face, “I’m clean.”
    Danny was already examining their catch. They could see now that it was a white cardboard box about the size and shape of a large box of corn flakes, with a tape handle and a ring that held it secured to the parachute.
    Joe bent over it. [,,/nrauituqsuisxqx,,] he read. “A secret code!”
    â€œYou’re reading it upside down,” Danny said, reversing the box. “Here it is—it’s a radiosonde.”
    â€œSome kind of radio?” Joe wrinkled his brows.
    Danny read the square of printing aloud. “‘This weather instrument, known as a radiosonde , was attached to a balloon and sent up by a United States Weather Bureau station. During the observation, while the radiosonde was in the air, it operated as a radio transmitter of the temperature, pressure, and moisture of the air through which it passed. The balloon burst at a height of about sixteen miles and the radiosonde came down on the attached parachute.’ ”
    â€œLook here,” Irene added. “It says it’s to be returned to the Weather Bureau so they can use it again.”
    â€œYes. Here are the instructions for mailing it,” said Danny thoughtfully. “But listen— we’re not far from the weather station. It’s over on the airfield, beyond Midston University. We could walk it easy from here. Let’s take it back now.”
    â€œGosh,” Joe protested. “It’s more than a mile.”
    â€œMaybe they’ll give us a reward,” Danny said craftily.
    Joe jumped up. “What are we waiting for?” he exclaimed.
    Leaving the reservoir behind them, they struck off through the woods, and then across some fields until they came to the campus of Midston University, where Irene’s father, Dr. Miller, headed the astronomy department, and Professor Bullfinch occasionally lectured. Taking short cuts, they soon came to the airfield, which lay to the north of the town. A main road, Washington Avenue, ran past it, and a little way from the road were two small white buildings. One contained the waiting room, office, and control tower of the airport. The other bore the sign: U.S. DEPT. OF COMMERCE, WEATHER BUREAU.
    Danny knocked at the door. After a moment it opened, and a tall man peered out. He had a round, ruddy face and small, sleepy-looking blue eyes, and his lips were curved in a lopsided but pleasant smile.
    â€œYes?” he said, blinking at them.
    â€œWe’ve come to return your radiosonde,” Danny explained.
    â€œThat’s very kind of you. Won’t you come in?” said the man. He held the door wide, and the three friends filed inside.
    The little room was crammed with equipment. A teletype machine clattered away in one corner. A long table was piled with diagrams and papers, and the walls