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COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 1960, renewed 1988 by Jay Williams & Raymond Abrashkin.
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Published by Wildside Press LLC
www.wildsidepress.com
THE DANNY DUNN SERIES
Danny Dunn and the Anti-Gravity Paint
Danny Dunn on a Desert Island
Danny Dunn and the Homework Machine
Danny Dunn and the Weather Machine
Danny Dunn on the Ocean Floor
Danny Dunn and the Fossil Cave
Danny Dunn and the Heat Ray
Danny Dunn, Time Traveler
Danny Dunn and the Automatic House
Danny Dunn and the Voice from Space
Danny Dunn and the Smallifying Machine
Danny Dunn and the Swamp Monster
Danny Dunn, Invisible Boy
Danny Dunn Scientific Detective
Danny Dunn and the Universal Glue
DEDICATION
This book is for Mike Burnham, Jr. and also for Katie Meadow
OPENING QUOTATION
“Nothing is impossible. Some things are just harder to believe than others.”
—Professor Euclid Bullfinch
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The authors are deeply grateful to Dr. Bruce C. Heezen of the Lamont Geological Observatory for his assistance; to W. Clois Ensor for advice about complicated musical matters; to the Mexican Government Tourist Bureau for much information about Mexico; to Moses Asch for allowing us to study the sounds of fish on recordings of the Science Series of Folkways Records and Service Corporation; and to Mary Cock and Reginald Weedon for their courtesy in providing working space.
We also wish to acknowledge our profound indebtedness to the writings of the pioneers of deep-sea exploration: Dr. William Beebe, Professor Auguste Piccard, Captain Jacques-Yves Cousteau, and Lieutenant Commander George Huout.
CHAPTER ONE
The Sounds of Fish
Professor Euclid Bullfinch hummed cheerily to himself as he set a large crucible—a pot made to withstand high heat—in the furnace that filled one corner of his laboratory.
He checked the temperature setting and shut the furnace. Then he seated himself at one of the stone-topped laboratory benches. He opened his notebook and for a moment chewed the end of his fountain pen as he looked thoughtfully out the open window. The sweet scent of honeysuckle came from his garden, along with the murmur of bees, and the Professor drew a deep contented breath.
Then he wrote, “Mixture placed in oven, 10:21, 300°. Why has no one tried this approach to this type of plastic before? Perhaps the results will not justify—”
The laboratory door flew open. A red-headed boy and a pretty girl with a dark pony-tail flying behind her, burst into the room. “Professor!” the boy shouted. “We need your help!”
Professor Bullfinch looked up over the rims of his glasses. Then, in a mild tone, he said, “Shut the door, please, Danny.” When, a little sheepishly, the boy had done so, the Professor put down his pen and went on, “I perceive from the calm way in which you stopped to obey me that there’s no emergency. No one has drowned, or burned up, or been swallowed in an earthquake, I take it?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” said Danny Dunn. He rubbed his snub nose and added, “Gee, Professor, I see what you mean. I guess we shouldn’t have come busting in like that. I’m sorry. I just didn’t stop to think.”
The girl, whose name was Irene Miller, said, “Oh, dear, I hope we haven’t interrupted any important work. We’d better come back another time, Dan.”
“No, no,” the Professor protested with a smile. “I merely wished to point out that it’s too warm a day for unnecessary bustling about. Sit down, both of you. I have been experimenting with a new type of plastic.”
“Is it for Dr. Grimes’s project?” Danny asked.
“Yes. He should be here soon, and I hope to have the answer to one of his problems.”
The two young people sat down, and Danny carefully set a small case on one of the benches. It contained a battery-operated tape recorder which he had assembled from a kit with Irene’s help.
Danny was greatly interested in science, and knew much more about its principles than most boys of his age. His father had died when he was very young, and his mother had taken a post as housekeeper for Professor Bullfinch. Danny had grown up under the wing of the famous scientist, who had taught him a great deal, and the Professor felt as much affection for Danny as if the boy were his own son. Irene lived next door. Her father was an astronomer who taught at Midston, the local university, and she, too, had the ambition of becoming a scientist when she grew up.
She said, now, “If you’re sure we’re not interrupting, Professor… Go ahead, Dan. Tell the Professor about your theory.”
“I’ll do more than that,” Danny grinned. “I’ll play it for you.”
The scientist sat back and lit his pipe. “Play it?” he asked. “Is it a theory about music?” Danny shook his head. He pulled the tape recorder out of its case. It had its own tiny amplifier, which he turned on, and then he threw the battery switch. At once, from the miniature machine, came a series of grunts that sounded like a cross between a pig and the plunking of a bass fiddle.
The Professor raised his eyebrows. “It certainly isn’t music,” he said. “But what is it?”
“A fish,” said Danny.
“It’s a toadfish,” Irene added. “Isn’t it lovely?”
“I… don’t… think… so,” said the Professor slowly. “Interesting? Yes. Odd? Yes. Lovely? No.”
Irene giggled. “Well, I was just thinking of that little fish floating in the sea and grunting happily to himself. That’s kind of lovely, isn’t it?”
“I see what you mean.” The Professor nodded.
“We’ve got a whole lot of them,” Danny said.
“What on earth do you plan to do with a whole lot of toadfish?” asked the Professor. “And where do you keep them?”
“No, not toadfish,” said Danny. “A lot of fish sounds. On tape.”
“Really? You don’t look wet.”
“We haven’t been in the water.
