They came home from a strange journey.... And heroes theymight have been—a little dog and a man!
Illustrated by Ed EmshBY ANDERSEN HORNE
The
DAY OF THE DOG
Carol stared glumly at the ship-to-shore transmitter."I hate being out here in the middle ofthe Caribbean with no radio communication. Can'tyou fix it?"
"This is a year for sun spots, and transmissionusually gets impossiblearound dusk," Bill explained."It will be allright in the morning.If you want to listento the radio, you canuse the portable radio directional finder. That alwaysworks."
"I want to catch the 5 o'clock news and hear thelatest on our satellite," Carol replied. She went tothe RDF and switched it on to thestandard broadcast channel. "Anyhow,I'd feel better if we could putout a signal. The way we're limpingalong with water in our gas is nofun. It will take us twenty hours toget back to Nassau the way we'relosing RPM'S."
Bill Anderson looked at hisyoung, pretty wife and smiled."You're behaving like a tenderfoot.We've plenty of gas, a good boatand perfect weather. Tomorrowmorning I'll clean out our carburetorsand we'll pick up speed.Meantime, we're about to enter oneof the prettiest harbors in the Bahamas,throw over anchor ..."
The RDF drowned him out.
"The world is anxiously awaitingreturn of the chamber from theworld's first manned satellitelaunched by the United States tendays ago. The world also awaits theanswers to two questions: Is thereany chance that Robert Joy, thevolunteer scientist who went up inthe satellite, is still living? Thereseems to be little hope for his survivalsince radio communicationfrom him stopped three days ago.Timing mechanism for the ejectionof Joy are set for tonight. And that'sthe second question. Will the satellite,still in its orbit, eject the chambercontaining Joy? Will it eject thechamber as scheduled, and will thechamber arrive back at earth at thedesignated place?
"There are many 'ifs' to this projectwhich is shrouded in secrecy.The President himself has assuredus of a free flow of news once thechamber has been recovered, andthis station will be standing by tobring you a full report."
Carol switched the radio off. "Doyou think he's alive?" She suppresseda shudder. "God! Think ofa human being up there in thatthing."
"Well, the dog lived for severaldays. It was just a question of gettingit back, which the Russianscouldn't do. I don't know aboutJoy. He sounded real cheerful andhealthy until his broadcastsstopped." Bill peered into the fadingtwilight. "Come on now, let'sput our minds to getting the hookover!"
They concentrated on the trickyentrance to the lee side of LittleHarbor Cay. It meant finding andpassing a treacherous coral headnorth of the adjoining Frozen Cay.Little Harbor Cay was midway inthe chain of the Berry Islands whichstretched to the north like beads ina necklace.
"There's the cove," called Carol.About a mile of coastline ahead wasthe small native settlement. Oncethe center of a thriving sponge industry,the island was now practicallydeserted. A handful of smallcottages, a pile of conch shells onthe beach and two fishing smacksgave evidence of a remaining,though sparse, population.
Dusk was rapidly approachingand Carol strained her eyes againstthe failing light. Bill heard her callhis name and saw her pointing—notahead to their anchorage, butamidships and toward the sky. Heturned his eyes to where she wasindicating and saw a dullish obj