_. Trying to get Johnny Forbes. If anyone can get this
thing across, he can. Wait a minute, here they are." He closed his
eyes as he listened to the murmuring voice in the headphones.

Then he was talking rapidly, forcefully, and the young flyer gazed
with owlish solemnity at Bart as they listened to his conversation. It
was plain that Bill was but half inclined to believe, though impressed
by the earnestness and evident apprehension displayed by his two
passengers.

"Yes, 2BXX," Van was saying. "Connect me with Johnny Forbes,
please--in a hurry. Yes.... Hello, Johnny, it's Van--Carl
Vanderventer, you know. Yes; got a scoop for you, but first I want you
to get it in the broadcasts. Get me? It's about a man-eating plant
that's starting to overrun the country. No--listen now, I'm not
dreaming--listen--"

The frantic scientist rambled on and on about the seed from the moon,
the red death that was creeping down from the mountains, the horror of
the calamity as he and Bart had visioned it. Then, with a sudden note
of despair, his voice trailed off into nothingness and he turned a
drawn white face to his two friends.

"Laughed at me. Hung up on me," he groaned. "Good God! We've got to do
something--quick!"

"Be in Albany in an hour," the pilot suggested. "What you going to do
there?" He believed, now. His expression of horror showed it.

"See the governor. But, man, it's an hour wasted! We must stir up the
country--get the word to Washington--everywhere. It might be possible
to fight the things some way if we can mobilize State and National
resources quickly enough. Bill, Bart, what can we do?"

* * * * *

The plane sped on through the night under control of her gyro-pilot as
the three men racked their brains for a solution of the problem. If a
hard-boiled newspaper man would not believe the story, who could?

"I've got it!" Bart shouted suddenly. "Can either of you pound a
key--code, I mean?"

"Sure, I can. Then what?" Petersen returned.

"Fake an S. O. S. Don't you see? All broadcasting has to stop, and
every ship at sea, every air liner in this part of the country'll be
listening--standing by. Give 'em the story in code. Let 'em think
we're in a ship from the moon--captured by Lunarians who are here to
destroy the world with this weed of theirs--anything. Make it as weird
as possible. Most everyone'll think it's a hoax, but there are ten
thousand kids--amateurs--who'll be listen