“That must be Rascomb now!” he exclaimed. “We may get our trip yet!”
“Count me out,” Flash murmured, but the technician did not hear.
Doyle talked for several minutes on the telephone, and his eager responses made it evident he was speaking with Rascomb. Presently, he placed his hand over the mouthpiece, turning toward Flash.
“Rascomb wants us to come out to his place for the week-end.”
“Well, your fish is playing with the bait. Better play him right so he doesn’t get away.”
“Thanks. I’m not interested. I’ll stay here at the hotel.”
“For some reason, Rascomb especially wants you. And it will be a wonderful opportunity for us to get some unusual newsreel shots.”
“Of what?” Flash asked, showing faint interest.
“Rascomb has invited Rajah Mitra as one of his guests. If we can get him togged up in full dress regalia he ought to be worth fifty feet at least!”
“We might get some good nature pixs while we’re there,” Doyle went on eagerly. “It’s wild around Clear Lake. How about it?”
Flash had no time to consider. While he was reluctant to accept Rascomb’s hospitality, he did have a curiosity to see him again, if only to ask about Albert Povy.
Doyle relayed the message to Rascomb and hung up the receiver.
“Rascomb and his guests are motoring out to the lodge tonight,” he explained. “We leave in the morning. Rascomb says it will be a slow trip over dirt roads so we ought to get a fairly early start.”
Flash nodded and began to prepare for bed. Long after Doyle had gone to sleep, he lay in the darkened room, staring at a patch of electric light which shone through the window. There were a number of things which puzzled him. Why had Rascomb insisted upon including him in the invitation? He felt satisfied the sportsman had not liked him particularly.
Unable to solve the puzzle, Flash finally dropped off to sleep. He awoke to find Doyle shaking his arm.
As Flash dressed, Doyle made slighting remarks about his appearance, suggesting that it might be well to buy a new suit of clothes before they started for the lodge.
“Sorry but I can’t buy a new suit before I get home,” Flash replied, unmoved. “This one will have to do.”
They breakfasted at a café across from the hotel and by eight o’clock were ready to start for Clear Lake, twenty miles away.