As Tom and Bud froze in shocked disbelief, the Tall One burst into laughter.
       "The great Swift is surprised," he mocked.
       Bud glared at him. "We thought you'd run all the way back to Brungaria, the way you high-tailed it out of the cave."
       "Big talk from a hot pilot," the intruder sneered. "I left to put my secondary plan into operation."
       "Chow gulped. "Wal, I don't know as I care for bein' part o' your secondary operation. How's about movin' that shootin' iron? It's givin' me a real sharp backache."
       "How did you know about this secret underground lab?" Tom demanded.
       The Tall One smirked. "I hung around the village keeping out of sight of course, and listened to your men talk. I heard enough to figure out what you were up to at this hacienda and sneaked in. Two of my men have your helpers covered."
       Tom winced. "We usually work under tighter security."
       "You're too late this time, Swift. My orders are to get both the mastodon and the galaxy ghost."
       "Thank goodness the mastodon is safely on its way to America!" Bud exclaimed.
       The Tall One grimaced. "But will it ever arrive there?" he asked sarcastically. "Anyway, I'll make sure the ghost gets to our lab. Brungarian scientists are waiting for it."
       "What do the intend to do with the P-E?" Tom burst out, worried.
       "We will use it as a revolutionary super-weapon!" the lanky Brungarian boasted.
       "How do you expect to manage that little trick?" Bud inquired.
       "No harm telling you, now that you can't do anything about it. Our scientists have figured out a method of utilizing the radiation. It will be the ammunition for our big ray guns!"
       "You don't understand what you're doing!" Tom warned. "We've just tested the effects of P-E radiation! It's lethal to all forms of life on earth!"
       "It killed the plant and animal specimens we put in with it," Bud spoke up. "Even water evaporated. You'll be committing suicide if you turn this force loose on our planet!"
       "Don't kid me," the Tall One sneered. He shifted his gun to the back of Chow's head. "Your friend has complained about a backache. He'll get a headache unless you do as I say. Now put the ghost in the carrying case."
       Chow blanched. "Tom, I have an idea this critter means business. I'd be obliged if you'd hand over the ghost before my head gets in the way of a piece o' flyin' lead."
       Tom saw he had no alternative. Reluctantly he turned on the Racodio. After a brief explanation he appealed to the Photo-Essence to enter the carrying case. The pulsating globule in the receiving tank responded: "I understand. We do not wish anyone to be harmed. I will transfer myself."
       The ghost immediately began to shrink. It passed through a connecting tube like a wisp of smoke, and reappeared in the carrying case. Its glow shone through the Tomasite plating.
       Tom pressed a button delivering an electrical charge. A small panel slid over the entrance to the carrying case, sealing it. Then he unscrewed the tube.
       "Ordinarily I'd take a bow for the success of that transfer," Tom muttered to Bud. "Right now I don't feel like celebrating."
       "Give it here!" the Tall One ordered, jerking the carrying case from Tom's hand. "Now, everybody go into the next room."
       He forced them to join the crew in the outer lab. With his pistol at Chow's back and his men's guns guarding the crew, the Tall One ordered, "Get into that corner, every one of you!"
       The members of the crew looked inquiringly at Tom. "Do as he says," the young inventor cautioned them. Grumbling, the men gathered in the corner, with Tom, Bud, and Chow following.
       The Brungarian suddenly whipped another gun from his pocket and fired at them point-blank. A bitter chemical odor filled the air. The victims' heads began to spin. A moment later the prisoners collapsed onto the floor and blacked out.
       Some time passed before Tom's head began to clear. His eyes focused on the pile of men in front of him. He saw Bud and Chow stumbling to their feet. One by one the members of the lab regained consciousness.
       "What happened, buckaroo?" Chow asked. "I've sure got a pain in my head, but my skull seems to be in one piece. What was in that gun?"
       "Some kind of knockout gas," Tom told him.
       "Where's our enemy?" Bud asked.
       Tom looked around. "Gone, Bud, with the galaxy ghost. I wonder if he committed any vandalism in the lab while we were out cold."
       They found everything in good condition except the Transmittaton. It was severely damaged.
       "The Tall One must have broken this dial panel by pounding it with the butt of his gun," Tom said. "I'll need at least two days to repair it. But what counts right now is to do something about the stolen galaxy ghost. This is a crisis. Those Photo-Essences on the moon are set to invade the earth day after tomorrow!"
       "And the only way to stop them," Bud added, "is to get the carrying case, release the captive ghost, and let it return to the moon. It must stop the others from putting their invasion plans into operation."
       One of the engineers spoke up. "We don't even know where to begin looking. And while we're searching, who knows what that stupid Brungarian will do with the P-E?"
       Tom pursed his lips. "Ralph, you just hit the nail on the head."
       "I did?"
       "Yes. The Tall One may not understand the danger. But the Brungarian leaders should. I'll radio their capital, explain the problem, and ask them to order their agent to release the ghost."
       He spun the dials of his powerful short-wave radio set. Identifying himself to the Brungarian operator, Tom asked to speak to the prime minister.
       "State your business, Swift," said the voice on the other end when the connection was made.
       "The galaxy ghost must be released if a disaster to humanity is to be prevented," Tom said. "Please relay that order to your agent.
       The man snickered. "Negative, Swift. We will not be fooled by your propaganda. We will neither release nor return the ghost."
       The connection clicked off.
       "What now, Tom?" Bud asked.
       "There's nothing we can do here in the lab. Let's go upstairs and see if anything has developed there."
       The boys found Mr. Swift, Castilla, and Burkart reviving from the effects of the same knockout gas that had dropped those in the lab.
       "The Tall One!" Castilla gasped. "He burst in here and covered us with his gun. He used my phone to get in touch with Brungaria."
       "What did he say?" Tom asked.
       Castilla frowned thoughtfully. "He spoke in a low tone to prevent us from hearing. But I did catch a reference to Voss and Valpo."
       "Valpo is Chilean slang for Valparaiso," Burkart explained. "A seaport on the Pacific, northwest of Santiago.
       "When the man put down the phone," Castilla continued, "he pulled a second gun and sprayed us with some sort of gas. We became unconscious."
       "Tom quickly described what had happened in the underground lab. Then he added, "Our best bet now seems to be the Valpo lead. Bud and I will fly there and see if we can pick up the trail."
       Bud nodded. "Maybe someone named Voss lives in Valpo and is part of the Brungarian conspiracy. The Tall One might be taking the ghost to him."
       The boys would leave the next morning. They had just dropped off for their first full sleep in several nights when an urgent message arrived for Tom from the Sky Queen.
       "We have been trying for hours to get you," the radio operator said. "A lot of our equipment was sabotaged before take-off. It malfunctioned while we were still over Chilean waters. The giant winch was tampered with, so the grappling irons sprang open. Your mastodon dropped off and fell into the Pacific Ocean!"