Tom Swift and the Mystery Comet (14 page)

"Isn’t there any way you can stop it?" Sandy asked Dr. Feng.

The professor’s eyes were troubled as he tugged his goatee. "I could of course report the incident to the university authorities—"

"Nothing doing!" Bud snapped. "That creep would think I wanted to worm out of the duel. I’m an American!"

"Well
I’m
not, buddy boy, and I think it’d be best to keep your face whole and unsliced," Lett advised, with a broad wink toward Sandy.

Bud glanced at the card and read the student’s name aloud. "Hunh!
Wolf von Enzbach
—sounds like someone out of an old Hollywood horror movie."

Dr. Feng looked startled. "I have heard of this fellow before. He is the son of Graf von Enzbach —what you would call the Count von Enzbach. Part of the old Bavarian aristocracy, which is still respected in this city."

"Good night!" winced Tom. "Great way to run into a real student prince!"

Feng added: "He is also said to be the best fencer at the University."

Bashalli sighed in exasperated disapproval. "Then let us be clear. The difficulty is not our running into a prince, but a prince running
through
Bud Barclay!"

"OH, NO!" Sandy gave a little wail. "This is my fault. Bud, you just can’t go through with this!"

"Why not? What kind of a Galahad would he be if he ducked the fight for his fair lady!" remarked Mr. Sarkiewski with scorn. "Wars have been started for less. But not to worry. Feng can confer immortality on him with the famous Philosophers Stone of the alchemists. Makes gold too—though I don’t notice many wealthy philosophers."

The others ignored him. "I’m gonna go through with it," grated Bud.

All the same, as they left the tavern, Tom thought his pal looked a bit apprehensive. It was a feeling he shared. Bud was a fine athlete, but football, basketball, and baseball had given him little aptitude for fencing. And blond young Wolf von Enzbach was looming ever larger as a formidable foe indeed! "Flyboy—you don’t know the first thing about fighting a duel with sabers. Sure you won’t change your mind?" Tom asked quietly.

The black-haired Californian shook his head stubbornly and glanced at his watch. "I still have the afternoon to prepare."

"The
afternoon
? You’ve got to be kidding!"

"C’mon, chum. You know I never kid."

"Look, you can’t expect us to hold up the
Sky Queen
while you―"

Bud had felt the rivulets of doubt from his friends, and his pride was wounded. "You don’t need me on the survey, Tom. I’m not a scientist. Please just go ahead, fly away—okay? I’ll keep an eye on the girls."

For once even Tom Swift’s look of grave disapproval had no effect on his best friend. "All right, Bud, if that’s what you want." He turned away and strode over to the others. "Come on Chow, Lett, Mr. Sarkiewski, Dr. Feng. I’m driving us back to the
Queen
."

"But you know, Tom," said Lett, "in this special situation... well, mightn’t it be best for me to
hang
with the girls, for extra protection?"

"My familiarity with Heidelberg and its quaint customs..." began Dr. Feng.

"Er, boss, if it’s all th’ same to you, I’d kinda like to watch..." put in Chow.

"Fine," snapped Tom. "I’ll take a taxi and leave you the van. Will
you
join me, Dr. Sarcophagus?"

"Absolutely. I have no interest in these annoying testosterone contests."

Stony silence prevailed until the taxi Tom had summoned disappeared down the boulevard. "He’ll be there," Bud stated firmly.

"Yes he will," agreed Bashalli. "How can one miss seeing one’s best friend sliced like ham?"

Bud snorted. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. Ever think Tom might not be the only one around here with imagination?"

"It takes no mystic intuition to sense you have something in mind, young lad," smiled Dr. Feng.

Hours later, as a somber six o’clock fell into place, Dr. Feng pulled the van up to a rustic inn, perched on the eastern slope of the Königstuhl mountain, overlooking the river. A weather-beaten sign hanging over the door bore the legend:

ZUM GRÜNEN JAEGER

with a picture of a green-coated huntsman.

"How very colorful," remarked Bashalli Prandit.

"Not s’much as my shirt," retorted Chow truthfully.

Bud gulped as they climbed out of the van, but said nothing. Despite his afternoon of preparation, he was looking rather pale.

Inside, Wolf von Enzbach was waiting at a table with several other students. "Ah, you are most punctual!" He smiled and stood up. "Some refreshment, perhaps?... No?... Then if you are ready,
Herr
Barclay, let us proceed."

"I’m ready," Bud said curtly. He nodded at another figure, waiting at a table and scowling beneath a ragged blond crewcut. "Hi Tom."

"Hi."

"So how was the search?"

"Let’s just get this over with."

"One moment!" huffed Lethal Monica, bringing up the rear. He carried a large, flat box under one arm.

Wolf von Enzbach had come with what seemed to be his usual entourage, now including some young ladies. They all seemed to be joking and commenting to one another. "
Ach, du liebe güte!
" one student muttered loudly through scornful white teeth. "
Hoffnungsloser fall!
A hopeless case!"

Another chuckled and said, "
Sein Kopf wird aussehen wie ein Rangierbahnhof von all den Schmissen!
"

"Say, did that feller jest say somethin’ about weinerschnitzl?" Chow asked Dr. Feng.

"I’m afraid not," replied the older man. "He says with all the cuts Bud will get, his head will look like a criss-cross railroad track."

The stout master of the inn, evidently well used to these events, pretended to busy himself at the counter as the crowd filed into a back room. Two dueling sabers were laid out, crossed, on a bare oak table—the only item of furniture.

"You are quite sure you would not prefer to apologize for striking me?" Enzbach inquired.

"Let’s get on with it!" Bud growled.

"As you wish. I realize you are only a brash American boy and not one of us,
Herr
Barclay. I shall be merciful and do only the most superficial damage,
ja
? I shall give you some souvenirs of Heidelberg to show off in America." The blond youth began to explain the formal procedure for the duel.

"Wait!" cried Sandy Swift dramatically.

Wolf von Enzbach smiled at her in surprise. "Yes,
fraulein
? A comment? I trust you will not humiliate your gallant defender by begging me to spare him?"

Sandy spoke to him brusquely. "Certainly not, Prince!—er, Sub-Graf. Since you were the one who challenged my friend, he has the right to choose the weapons—isn’t that so?"

Enzbach’s face took on a puzzled frown. "Yes, that is correct,
gnädige fraulein
, according to custom. But—"

"Okay, Von, buddy, I pick
these
!" Bud nodded, his grin nervous as he pointed across the room. Lett Monica removed the lid of his parcel and held it up for all to see.

"
Ach, vas ist?
What are those?" asked one of the girls.

"Merely sabers," smiled Dr. Feng. "I assure you they are genuine products of Heidelberg, which we have troubled ourselves to procure for your convenience."

Chow grinned at Wolf. "Butcha see, th’ joker in th’ deck is this—they’s made o’
rubber
!"

"What is this foolery?" demanded Enzbach.

Karl Feng shrugged. "You must agree,
Meinherr
von Enzbach, that this is in full accord with the rules of these matters. As a professor of history of this university, I am fully conversant with such traditions, if you yourself are not."

"But—but
Herr
Professor—with all respect―"

Dr. Feng reared up sternly. "If you wish to pay respect, young sir, do call to your mind my position with the university—and my obligations with regard to reporting questionable activities. Now then, kindly proceed."

Enzbach’s mouth had long since dropped open. One of his friends started to chuckle. The next instant Enzbach himself burst out laughing.

"
Ach
! Very well, if that is your choice."

"Go ahead, Doctor," urged Lett Monica. "As the eldest present—that’s true, isn’t it Chow, brand your hide?—as you said, it’s your role to hand Bud his sword. Gotta be correct."

"But no,
Herr
Spaceman," interrupted Wolf with upraised hand. "This society, myself and my comrades, have adopted the Alsatian practice. Professor, Barclay shall select and take in hand his own weapon from the box, and I the other."

"Very well," nodded Feng.

"Seems our good doctor doesn’t know all the rules after all," muttered Lett to Sandy in disapproval.

Bud walked over to the box and took out one of the swords. He politely held the box out to Enzbach, who nodded smartly and seized the one remaining. "
En garde!
" exclaimed the German theatrically.

"That there means
gitcher self ready t’ fight,
" Chow whispered to the girls.

The combatants crossed swords, both flimsy blades bending backward as they did so. The clownish fight began furiously. Everyone in the room was soon roaring with laughter, Tom included. The young inventor whispered to Bashalli, "This was worth postponing the flight a few hours."

"And it was all Bud’s idea, Thomas," giggled the Pakistani. "But we
did
help him find those silly toy swords."

Wolf’s blade feinted and slashed with dazzling speed. Before long, Bud’s face was crimson as his opponent’s rubber sword slapped him smartly again and again. At last, with a single sweeping blow, Wolf von Enzbach knocked the sword from Bud’s hand. It whapped down on the floor like a limp fish.

The room shook with applause and cheers.

"And now," said Wolf, "since your face is as red as mine, perhaps we can shake hands and be friends."

In spite of feeling foolish, Bud was unable to keep from laughing. He thrust out his hand. "Fair enough, pal! Now that our duel’s over, I don’t mind saying I’m sorry about that sock in the jaw. Guess I
was
being kinda hasty and bad-tempered. Maybe. A little bit."

The aristocrat gave an easy grin that made him look like an American to American eyes. "Of course. Realizing now who you and your friends are, I expect no less from Bud Barclay. Your character is well presented in those books."

Bud carefully refrained from looking Tom’s way. Wolf bowed in Sandy’s direction. He said suavely, "And I apologize if my admiration for the
fraulein
made me seem too bold." He turned back to Bud, grinning impishly. "Do understand, I never intended to do more than make you perspire a bit. You are a brave fellow, and if you should ever enroll at the university, my friends and I would be honored to have you join our corps."

"Great! But I sure wish you’d told me that sooner. I’ll bet I lost ten pounds worrying about the plastic surgery I’d need after... after you finished carving your initials... in..." Bud suddenly squinted and ran a hand across his forehead.

Tom’s instincts reacted immediately. "Bud, what’s wrong?"

"Oh, nothing... guess I’m just a little...
T-Tom?
..." He rubbed his eyes and leaned against the table.

"Brand my spurs," said Chow uncertainly, "that there fence-makin’ would tucker anybody out."

"Tom!" Sandy gasped. Bud had begun to tumble to the floor! As Tom’s arm’s closed around his friend, a loud
thunk
! came from behind them. Wolf von Enzbach, eyes fluttering, had collapsed!

"Hey! What’s coming off?" exclaimed Lett Monica. "How’s it hanging?
Are we under attack?
"

"We may be!" hissed Tom. "And now two of us are down!"

DR. FENG stared down in dismay. "
Himmel
! We must get the boys to a hospital!"

Both Bud and Wolf, lying prostrate, showed the same symptoms. All their muscles seemed to have contracted and were bulging out like cords. Their faces were contorted, their eyes forced shut. Lett Monica hissed, "
Zorshak’n
! They must be having some sort of seizure!—we learn in my training to recognize the epileptic
Grand Mal
."

Enzbach’s university friends were muttering in helpless German, shocked. One of the girl students approached Tom. "P-please, I am Elka—I am training now as, what, a nurse. I will help you, but we must hurry—perhaps their hearts will stop!"

"Aw, don’t even say it!" blubbered Chow. "Give ’em artificial resteration er somethin’!"

"No," gasped a voice. "P-please
don’t
!"

"Bud!" Tom exclaimed. His pal, eyes open, seemed to be returning to normal.

Wolf von Enzbach was now sitting up as the girl Elka rubbed the back of his neck. "I—it seems I am to live. But I ache, all over I ache."

"Jetz! So do I!" Bud groaned. "I feel like I’ve been squeezed in a vise."

"But now—
what
happened to them?" demanded Bashalli. "Are there fumes in the air?"

Tom crouched down and sniffed Bud’s toy sword, which lay on the floor, careful not to touch it. "There’s something on this sword, some kind of coating. It may be a contact poison!"

"Everyone—into the front room!" commanded Dr. Feng. "Leave the swords alone!"

Elka called an ambulance, explaining the situation. The emergency personnel arrived quickly and commenced an examination.

The attending emergency physician spoke in German to Feng at length. "He is sure they are out of danger," reported the scholar. "He thinks there was a drug, a medication used by certain heart patients, on the swords. Yet he is also puzzled, as normally it would not enter through the skin."

"They were both perspiring and wiping their foreheads," Tom stated grimly. "It probably entered through their eyes."

"But how’d it git on them golsarn little toy swords in th’ first place?" sputtered Chow.

Tom asked the girls, "Did you have them with you at all times, since you found them?"

"Well... not exactly," answered Sandy. "We found them in a display at one toy shop, but they were all out. The owner called around and found them at another shop, and we drove over and picked them up there."