By Mindret Lord
The letter came the third day after Bobby Scott was kidnapped.It was addressed"R.Scott-Personal."The postmark was New York.
"This maybe it,"said Evans, the FBI man on the case.He opened the envelope with great care.With a pair of tweezers he took out two sheets of paper.He spread them out on the desk.Both were written in pencil.One was printed.The other was in Bobby's handwriting.
The first sheet read:
IF YOU WANT TO SEE YOUR KID AGAIN HAVE $100,000 READY IN SMALL BILLS.
The boy's letter was:
Dear Dad: They said I should write you that I am okay because that would prove I am not dead.So I will write you about birds to prove this is really me.One bird I saw was pecking a tree.It was all black except for a white head and neck.It had a little red patch on the back of its head.There was another bird-sort of a sparrow -only it sings.It was gray on top with black streaks above and below.It had a very short tail.When I threw a stick it flew away south, and I bet it didn't stop for ten miles.There is a bluebird around here too that makes a noise like a rattle.Well, hope to see you soon.
Love, Bob.
The FBI man looked at the picture of the husky boy that stood on the desk."The kid's quite a nature lover, isn't he? Well, I'll check these letters for fingerprints.Maybe that will give us a clue."
Mr.Scott was shaking his head."Yes, bird study has always been his hobby.But-you know-there's something wrong about this letter.Let me make a copy of it, will you?" When he finished, he picked up his hat and started out."I'm going to the library for a while.I'll be back soon."
Two hours later Mr.Scott came back.The FBI man had nothing to report.The letters had given him no clues.There were no fingerprints-nothing to go on.
Scott said,"Look here, Evans.You don't have anything, but I have a hunch.It's more than a hunch.I believe it.You might think I'm crazy.Maybe I am.But I'm flying to California-right now!"
"California! But the postmark was New York," Evans started to argue.Then he asked,"Do you know something I don't? What is this all about anyway?"
"Nothing sure.You've just got to trust me.If you won't come with me, I'll go alone."
A group of men from the sheriff's office was waiting for them when they landed in Santa Barbara, California.
"The place I'm looking for," Scott told them,"would be about ten miles north of here.It's in high pine country, and it's near either a stream or a small lake.I've never seen the place.But I'm pretty sure it's there."
"Sure,"said one of the men."It's there all right.I used to hunt up that way years ago."
They found the place with no trouble.There was only one possible hide-out-an old cabin that no one had used for years.The officers came up to it from three sides.They were able to take the surprised guards without firing shot.
Scott took his son in his arms.Evans heard the boy say,"I knew you'd come, Dad.I knew you could figure it out."
"I've played dumb long enough," the FBI man complained."Let's have the whole story now.I've guessed that your son's letter led you right to him.But how?"
Mr.Scott laughed and patted Bob on the shoulder."It's not much of a secret,"he said."That letter sounded like it had been written by someone who had never seen a bird before.But Bob has studied birds for years.He knows all about them.At first I couldn't figure out why he was pretending to be so stupid.It was really pretty smart."
"Aw heck," the boy said."Let's go."
Mr.Scott went on."I found the answer in the library when I checked on the birds Bob wrote about in his letter.The white-headed woodpecker he told about belongs in the pine country on the Pacific coast.The song sparrow he described is known as the ‘Santa Barbara sparrow.’There is only one bluebird that has a cry like a rattle-the kingfisher.And he is never far from fresh water."
"Yes, I can see all that,"Evans said."But how about the ten miles from Santa Barbara?"
"I guessed that much by myself,"Mr.Scott laughed."Bob said in his letter the sparrow flew south and didn't stop for ten miles.I know sparrows only make short flights-from tree to tree.When I began to understand that Bob was smart enough to let us know where he was, everything fitted together."
