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After a little more conversation, the girls thanked Sol again and left him and Colombo. As Nancy drove off, Bess asked, "Where to now?"
Nancy said she had a hunch that they should go back to the golf club and report this latest bit of information to Mr. Gonzales. At the desk the girls learned that he was playing golf.
"But he should be back soon," the clerk told them. "Why don't you go out to the porch? From there you can watch him come in on the eighteenth green."
The three friends hurried to the porch and took chairs near the railing. They had a clear view of the green and part of the fairway. Nancy, who played golf well, noticed that there were trees on one side of the fairway just before it ended at the green. "That really makes it hard," she thought. "A person would have to aim a straight shot not to hit those trees."
"Remember that beautiful golf course at the Deer Mountain Hotel, where we solved the mystery of The Haunted Bridge The Haunted Bridge?" George asked.
"I sure do," Bess said. "Nancy won a tournament there." She giggled. "Here comes Father Time!"
An elderly man, who was almost as round as he was high and had long white hair and a flowing white beard, putted for the cup, missed it, and made a wry race.
Bess sighed. "This sure is a frustrating game."
"It is," Nancy said. "I've seen people get so mad that they threw their dubs away. Once a fellow almost hit his poor caddy!"
"Here comes Mr. Gonzales," George said. "He's a good distance away from the green. I wonder how he'll make out?"
The girls watched in silence as he took his position behind the ball and swung his club in a few practice strokes. Just as he placed the club behind the ball and got ready for his approach shot, another player's ball whizzed from among the trees to his right and hit him hard on the temple. Mr. Gonzales dropped his club and fell to the ground, unconscious.
"Oh!" all three girls cried out in horror.
Nancy, Bess, and George expected the other player to emerge from the woods and run up to the victim. But no one did.
"That ball must have been sent on purpose to hit Mr. Gonzales!" Nancy exclaimed.
The three girls jumped up and ran toward an outside stairway.
Bess suddenly pointed. "I see somebody running beyond those trees. He's carrying a bag of clubs. He must be the one who shot that ball!"
"Maybe he's a caddy," George added.
Nancy was torn between the desire to hurry after the suspect and the need to help Mr. Gonzales. By the time the girls reached the foot of the stairs, they noticed that several people had surrounded their friend. But no one was taking off after the suspect. This helped Nancy decide what to do, although the man was out of sight.
"Let's go!" she said. "We must catch him!"
"Where do you think he'll run?" Bess asked. "To the caddy house?"
"He doesn't seem to be heading in that direction," George replied. "Maybe he isn't a caddy, but a member who is running scared."
Nancy was already racing across another fairway toward a public road. The man with the golf bag suddenly came into view. He looked back and realized he was being chased. Despite the weight of the bag, he put on extra speed. Before the girls could get to him, he reached the road. A car was waiting for him. He jumped in and it roared off.
"Now we'll never know who he is," Bess wailed.
Nancy said she had seen the license plate and repeated the number to the girls.
"What's more, the glimpse I got of the man makes me think he's the one who spied on us out at the Easton estate!" She added, "Since we can't chase him, let's return to the clubhouse and phone the police."
The girls hurried back and told the manager what they had seen and asked him to call headquarters and give the license number. He did so, and the sergeant on duty promised to send two officers out at once.
While they were waiting, Nancy asked how Mr. Gonzales was. The manager replied, "He's still unconscious, but a doctor is with him. He's in a room down the hall."
Bess decided to go there and see if she could find out anything further. Nancy and George remained in the lobby. When the police officers arrived, the manager introduced them as Parks and Joyce.
"This young lady saw a man with a bag of clubs running away. She'll give you the details," the manager said.
The girl detective described how the suspect had fled in a car, adding that she had managed to see the license plate. "Headquarters has the number."
"Yes, we know it," Parks said. "Can you tell us anything else about the man?"
"Yes," Nancy replied. "I think he's the same person who was spying on me and my friends while we were watching the crocodiles at the Easton estate. He was peering at us from behind some mangroves, so I caught only a glimpse of his face. He had shoulder-length black hair and beady eyes. He might be a half-breed Indian. I'm afraid that's all I can tell you about him."
"That's more than people usually notice," Officer Joyce complimented her, "Thank you for the information."
While he had been talking, Lieutenant Parks picked up the manager's phone and called headquarters. He asked the sergeant on duty to look up the license number Nancy had given him.
"It's urgent," she heard him say.
They all waited for an answer, which came in a few minutes. When the manager heard the name of the owner, he showed utter astonishment. "That's my name! It's my car! It must have been stolen!"
Immediately he called the parking-lot attendant, who phoned back in a few minutes. "Your car is not here! I didn't notice anyone take it. I'm sorry, sir."
The manager hung up. Just then another phone rang. The call was for the officers. Lieutenant Parks picked up the instrument. He said, "That's good. You say the suspects got away?"
The officer put down the phone and reported to his listeners that a few minutes earlier the car had been found abandoned about five miles from the club.
"In that case," Joyce said, "we'll have to depend on this girl's description to nab the fellow. We're to look for a man with a bag of golf dubs. He has long black hair, beady eyes, and could be a half-breed Indian."
While this conversation had been going on, Bess had been waiting outside the room where Mr. Gonzales was for the doctor to appear. In a few minutes he came outside. She asked how the patient was.
"He has regained consciousness," the physician reported, "but has a racking headache. I've ordered an ambulance to take him to the hospital. No one is to see him, either here or at the hospital."
Bess said thank yon, turned, and hurried back to repeat this message to Nancy and George. She heard Lieutenants Parks and Joyce discussing the case. Parks declared that he was sure the suspect would have dumped the golf clubs as soon as possible. As to his being a half-breed Indian, there were so many of them around that it would be almost impossible to identify the man they were looking for.
Joyce shrugged, "I guess we're at a dead end on this case."
Nancy spoke. "Maybe not," she said. Then, turning to the manager, she requested, "Will you see if Colombo has returned?"
CHAPTER XVIII.
Snakes.
THE manager, Mr. Burley, learned that Colombo was back and sent for him. He asked him to meet Nancy, Bess, and George in the tropical garden.
"Did something happen?" he questioned, when they met and sat down. He looked worried.
"I'll say it did," George replied. "Mr. Gonzales was. .h.i.t on the head with a golf ball, which was deliberately aimed at him. It knocked him out and now he's in the hospital."
Colombo stood up, walked in a circle, and spoke Spanish so fast that the girls could not understand him. Finally he sat down again and said, "That is very bad. Please tell me more about it."
Nancy took up the story, and when she finished describing the attacker, Colombo said, "He sounds like a man named Sam Yunki, who used to be a caddy at this club. Then he worked at Crocodile Island a short time. I don't know where he is now."
"When he was at the island," Nancy asked, "was he one of the workmen who was close to Mr. Gimler?"
"Yes, he was. Very close. I'm sure Yunki's the one who threw the golf ball at Mr. Gonzales. He's an excellent shot."
"Did you know him well?" Bess inquired.
"No," Colombo replied. "I was never allowed to be near him."
"That's understandable," George said. "Gimler and his partner wouldn't have wanted you to become a pal of his."
Nancy went into the clubhouse to tell this latest news to Mr. Burley. When she told him about Sam Yunki, he said, "I remember hearing about him. He was surly and uncooperative. That is-unless people paid him handsomely or tipped him generously."
Nancy asked Mr. Burley if he knew that Yunki had worked at Crocodile Island after leaving the dub.
"No, I didn't," he said. "I heard he left here unexpectedly and no one knew where he went, not even the other caddies. Well, I'll notify the police at once."
Nancy rejoined her friends, who said Colombo had already gone back to work. As the three girls walked to the parking lot, George said, "We really picked up a good clue!"
When they reached home, their hostess was smiling. "I have another message for you girls," she said. "Nancy, your friend Ned called again. I invited the three boys to come down as soon as they could. It didn't take them long to make up their minds. They'll be at the Miami airport this afternoon."
Nancy gave the woman at hug. "How sweet of you to invite them! You know we wanted to farm them out as bodyguards for Mr. Gonzales, but now he won't need them. He's in the hospital."
"What!" Mrs. Cosgrove cried out in alarm.
Nancy and the girls told her about the day's events.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Mrs. Cosgrove said. "I hope Mr. Gonzales isn't seriously hurt."
Bess said, "We'll call tomorrow and find out. The doctor said they would need to make some tests."
Nancy, Bess, and George went upstairs to get ready. They gave their hair special attention and put on pretty dresses before going to meet the boys.
Miami airport was crowded, but the girls had no trouble finding the athletes from Emerson College. At once the couples paired off to exchange kisses. Then, while the boys were collecting their baggage and later as they all rode to the Cosgrove home, the girls told them of their adventures to date.
"I'm relieved that you've made such progress in your sleuthing," Ned teased. "We didn't want to come here to join a wild-goose chase."
George said, "I haven't seen any geese around, but there are crocodiles, alligators, snakes, fish that climb trees-"
"Oh, stop your kidding," Burt interrupted.
"You'll see," George told him.
A few minutes later the young people reached the Cosgrove house. After dinner, Dave said, "Danny, what do you think our chances are of getting onto Crocodile Island? I can't wait to see a crocodile. Nancy told us that recently it has been closed to visitors."
Danny offered, nevertheless, to take them all in the skiff the following morning and try to land on the key. "It may be open," he added cheerfully.
The seven young people set off early and headed directly to Crocodile Island. Nancy suggested that if visitors were allowed ash.o.r.e, Ned, Burt, and Dave should go without the girls.
"No one there knows you, so you could look around without making the owners suspicious. Perhaps you can pick up some clues we've missed."
Unfortunately the planned visit did not take place. When they reached the island, prominently displayed signs prohibited visitors. Furthermore, there was no activity around the place.
This lack of activity puzzled Nancy. "I can't understand it," she said. "I wonder if something happened."
Danny shrugged. "If we can't go ash.o.r.e, we can't find out. Tell you what. Suppose I take you boys to an uninhabited key so you can see exactly what one looks like. The girls haven't seen the island either." He smiled. "I can almost guarantee that you won't find any mosquitoes."
The girls laughed and then told the boys about the jungle attack.
Danny went on to say that the key ahead was reputed to have been a slave hideout, "I mean an Indian-slave hideout."
Ned remarked, "We haven't been here twenty-four hours and I've learned a lot I never knew before."
George grinned. "Oh, hadn't you heard? We three girls and Danny are walking encyclopedias! Just ask us anything you want to know about this place."
"Okay," said Burt. "How deep is the water in Biscayne Bay?"
George did not hesitate a second. "It runs from nothing to twenty feet."
Burt was startled and turned to Danny. "Is she putting us on?"
"No, she's not. George is telling the truth. At low tide some of the sand isn't covered at all. The deep-water channels vary from twelve to thirty feet," he explained.
"Wow!" Burt said. "I never would have guessed. That's interesting."
When they reached the key, Danny stayed in the skiff while the others went ash.o.r.e. As they scrambled over the mangrove roots, the boys seemed to have trouble.
"This stuff is something!" Dave cried out. "I just turned my ankle."
"You have to get used to it," Bess told him. "And you'd better make sure you don't turn your whole leg!"
The young people found it difficult to walk across the coral rock, mangrove, and spiny plants, which grew in profusion. About quarter of a mile from sh.o.r.e they spotted a tumble-down thatched-roof hut.
Ned remarked, "I thought Danny said this place was uninhabited."
"I'm sure it is," Nancy said. "No one could possibly live in that cabin."
They all struggled up to the hut and stared. Its roof was sagging and the building, made of mangrove branches, was ready to fall apart.
"I've seen enough," Dave announced. "Now I can be a walking encyclopedia myself on the subjects of mangrove trees and coral rocks."