Guards were left at the moss-covered mansion inside and out. Two FBI agents had been stationed in the basement. Periodically they tried to persuade Fortin to give himself up but there was no response from inside the laboratory.
The Drews and their friends had mixed feelings about the mystery. It had been solved, but the instigator of the dreadful plot might still be able to destroy the rocket and possibly the three astronauts as well.
When they reached the Nickerson home, the young people were bombarded with questions by Ned’s mother. She took a sensible view of the whole matter.
“I’m sure that if there is the slightest bit of doubt about the safety of those astronauts, NASA will not allow them to climb into the rocket.”
Harboring this comforting thought, everyone went to bed feeling a little better. They were up and dressed by six the next morning. During breakfast they watched the television news. According to the report the moon shoot was planned for nine o’clock and at the moment all systems were go.
When the young people reached the building where the news media offices were located, they signed in. Together they walked out to get into buses and were taken to the Press Site.
“What a huge place!” Bess remarked.
The structure was really a large covered stadium. On each tier were long counters containing telephones. Behind them were rows of chairs, each one numbered. Nancy’s group climbed the steps and found seats which had been assigned to them.
Men were bustling about, many with cameras, some with tape recorders, others with portable typewriters. Nearly everyone had binoculars.
In front of the Press Box was a long open lawn beyond which the Banana River gleamed in the sunlight. Near the shore, television and newspaper cameras had been set up by photographers. Across the river on Merritt Island stood the rocket, about three miles away, with condensed moisture, caused by the liquid oxygen, pouring from the base of it.
Every few minutes there would be an announcement and the young people would hold their breath. Was the countdown still on and would the rocket take off?
“Oh I hope Fortin was captured and had no chance to use a secret device to hurt the astronauts!” said Bess.
“I hope so too,” Nancy replied.
There was a long wait before lift-off time. Nancy asked Ned if he would go with her to inspect the various trailers she had noticed off to one side of the Press Box. They went down and were told that these contained the broadcasting stations. Stepping across numerous cables, the couple walked along the row, then turned back. Behind the Press Box they found a snack bar.
“Let’s grab a bite,” Ned suggested.
While he bought hamburgers and milk, Nancy tried to phone the Billington house, but all the circuits were busy. When she and Ned returned to their seats, they learned that their friends had also been down to get a second breakfast.
As the countdown drew nearer zero, everyone who had been wandering around came to take their seats. Typewriters were clicking everywhere and cameras with telephoto lenses were busy.
Nancy wondered if ever again she would be so excited. Some time later she encountered another mystery, The Quest of the Missing Map, which also brought her some harrowing adventures.
It was five minutes to nine. The countdown for the moon shoot proceeded. Finally the announcer called out the final seconds:
“Three ... two ... one... zero!”
There was a burst of orange, green, and yellow gases from the base of the rocket. As it zoomed upward, enveloped in a varicolored cloud, the noise was ear-splitting and the grandstand shook as if a giant hand were shaking it violently.
“It’s off!” someone shouted.
Nancy and her friends were holding hands, their nails pressing into one another’s palms.
“Nothing is wrong so far!” Nancy thought, as a white vapor trail formed behind the spaceship. “Oh, I hope—I hope—”
The rocket curved slightly and in a few moments disappeared among the clouds. Bess said shakily, “Ev-everything’s A-OK!”
Seconds before this, a shout of triumph had gone up from the onlookers. Nancy and her friends did not cry out. Instead they were silently saying prayers of thankfulness.
When Nancy was breathing normally again she picked up the telephone in front of her. The main switchboard connected her with the Billington house.
Mr. Drew answered. “I knew it was you,” he said. “Everything’s A-OK here too. Fortin finally gave himself up, and his spy was caught. The transmitting antenna was ruined. The news was immediately telephoned to the Cape. This is why the astronauts were allowed to climb into the rocket and it was able to lift-off on time.”
“Oh, Dad, that’s wonderful!”
The lawyer chuckled. “You’ll be interested to know that Fortin blames his failure on your detective work. But I’m terribly proud of you!”
Carolyn Keene, The Mystery at the Moss-Covered Mansion
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