The Hooded Hawk Mystery Part 3

How about that, Aunt Gertrude?"

Miss Hardy cleared her throat with a loud har-rumph, har-rumph, then replied, "That might be one then replied, "That might be one way to get rid of that hawk!"

As Joe was about to protest, his mother gave him a warning look not to continue the discussion. She knew that if the hawk should become lost Aunt Gertrude would be one of the first in the family to go searching for her. So why argue about it?

During the afternoon the brothers made a cask tub for the falcon and let her bathe. Then they laid plans for beginning their work on the case Mr. Hardy had outlined for them.

"My guess is," said Frank, "that anyone smuggling immigrants into the country would probably do it after dark. What say we take the Sleuth Sleuth out in the out in the 34 bay this evening and scout around for a few hours?"

"Good idea," Joe agreed. "But remember, Miss Peregrine has to go along."

About seven thirty the boys prepared to leave. They changed to old pants and sweaters, then hurried to the garage, where Joe put on the gauntlet and signaled for the hawk to come to his wrist. When the bird was in place, he hooded it, and Frank drove to their boathouse.

After climbing aboard the sleek motorboat, Joe attached the bird's leash to the jesses on her legs and set her on a short pole in the wheel cabin, which was intended for raincoats and jackets. The bird accepted the roost readily.

Moments later Frank had the motorboat under way. As the craft knifed smoothly through the water, the boys were pleased to see that the falcon remained quiet. Presently Joe asked: "What kind of boat, if any, do you think we ought to look for out here?"

"I surmise that the smugglers come close to the twelve-mile limit in a large boat," his brother replied. "There they contact the sh.o.r.e and make arrangements to have the immigrants transported the rest of the way in a speedboat."

"Sounds logical," Joe agreed, his eyes constantly scanning the bay in every direction.

Feeling a drop of rain, Joe looked up at the sky. In the distance he spotted a pigeon flying toward 35 land. Grabbing binoculars, he trained them on the bird. Frank, too, had seen the pigeon.

Both boys wondered if it were a carrier.

"Suppose we let the hawk bring it down on the beach," Joe suggested, starting toward the falcon in the cabin.

"I wouldn't this time," Frank said quickly. "It might help us more to know where the bird is going, so we can locate the owner. Get the pigeon's direction, Joe."

He handed his brother a pocket compa.s.s. Joe balanced it on his hand, and compensating for the bobbing of the speedboat, studied the movements of the settling needle carefully.

Frank and Joe were well aware that carrier pigeons' actions are fairly predictable.

When turned loose at their departure point, they fly straight up into the air, circle, pick up the beam to their home cote, and set off in a straight line.

By the speed and a.s.surance with which the pigeon overhead was flying, the boys were convinced that it was making a beeline for home. When the bird was finally out of sight, Joe remarked: "That was easy. The pigeon was heading straight southwest from here. The question is, How far inland is it going?"

"We have a starting point for our search, anyway," Frank commented. "Say, that pigeon at Chet's farm was headed in a southwest direction, too."

36 "Right. And now, with a possible clue to the smugglers' mainland hide-out, let's do a bit of aerial sleuthing."

"First thing tomorrow."

Presently Frank turned the wheel over to Joe. He was just about to leave the bay and head into the ocean when his brother said: "We have company."

A deep-sea fishing cruiser was coming toward them from the open sea. Frank picked up the field gla.s.ses and read the name Daisy K. Daisy K. The Hardys were familiar with most of the The Hardys were familiar with most of the fishing boats in the vicinity and recognized this one as a weather-beaten sports fishing craft used for charter trips. It was frequently tied up in Bayport. But they knew nothing about its owner.

"Think she's suspicious?" Joe asked.

"We can't overlook anything," his brother replied.

While the vessel was still some distance away, Frank studied it with the gla.s.ses.

Turning to Joe, he said: "Take a look at the sailor leaning over the rail on the starboard side."

As the Daisy K Daisy K approached, Joe adjusted the gla.s.ses and peered at the heavy-set, approached, Joe adjusted the gla.s.ses and peered at the heavy-set, dark-skinned man, who had piercing black eyes. Both of the man's hands were resting on the rail, and at first glance he appeared to be just a tired sailor relaxing after a long, wearing day's work.

37 "What do you think, Joe?"

"Same as you do."

For a reason they could not explain, the boys felt sure that this was the mysterious masked man who had tried to steal the falcon! But on neither of his hands was the telltale ruby ring. In a moment the Daisy K Daisy K had pa.s.sed the had pa.s.sed the Sleuth. Sleuth.

"I don't suppose," said Joe, "that we ought to suspect every sun-tanned stranger who comes near us." He grinned. "That's Srnuffs approach. I did have a funny feeling, though, that he was our man. Shall we follow him?"

"We haven't a shred of evidence against the fellow, Joe, and anyway, we know where to find him if we want him. I'd rather keep looking out here for clues to the smugglers."

"Okay."

It was choppy on the open sea, and as darkness settled, the wind grew strong.

"I guess we'd better go back," Frank proposed. "The waves are getting pretty high and I don't think our pa.s.senger Miss Peregrine likes it too well!"

The hawk was finding it hard to retain her perch and finally Frank took the bird on his wrist. Joe speeded up and made the bay just ahead of the advancing squall.

"Too bad we couldn't continue our sleuthing," Frank remarked. "But then, it would be impossible for us to get near another boat on a night like this."

38 Joe nodded, turning to glance at the storm clouds. "We're still going to get a taste of that squall before we can make the boathouse, Frank."

"I know, and it may be rough even here in the bay. We'd better put on our oilskins."

After they donned their slickers, the squall struck full force. Frank took the wheel, while Joe nestled the falcon under his oilskin.

In a fury of lashing wind and rain, the Sleuth Sleuth pitched violently, and Frank fought to keep pitched violently, and Frank fought to keep the boat on course. Then, as abruptly as it had started, the storm was over. The wind died and the rain slowed to a drizzle, then stopped.

"Whew!" Frank exclaimed. "These summer squalls! How did the lady take it?"

"Like a trouper," Joe a.s.sured him, stroking the falcon. "And not a feather wet!"

About half an hour later they nosed the Sleuth Sleuth into the slip of their boathouse. Joe set into the slip of their boathouse. Joe set the falcon back on her pole perch, and had just closed the door behind them when there was a low rumble in one corner of the boathouse. The next instant, a blinding flash was followed by a sharp explosion that rocked the building!

A sheet of flame roared up the walls and across the boathouse directly toward the Sleuth!

CHAPTER V.

Date Line: Delhi.

stunned, the Hardys at first could see no escape from the flash fire which had trapped them in their boat-house. But as the initial shock wore off, Frank cried out: "Open the doors, Joe!"

The youth swung them up as Frank gunned the boat's motor. The Sleuth Sleuth shot backward shot backward into open water a split second before the fire reached its prow.

"Whew!" said Joe. "Frank, that fire was set!"

His brother nodded as he docked nearby. Both boys jumped out and Joe fastened the hawk's leash to a rowboat painter. Then he followed Frank, on a dead run, back to their boathouse. Frank, meanwhile, had grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall of the neighboring boathouse.

Behind them, the boys could hear the watchman shout, "What's wrong over there?"

"Fire!" Frank yelled.

40 One glance around the Hardy boathouse told the boys that a single extinguisher would do little good. Nevertheless, Frank played it around until it was empty. Joe said he would run to the nearest house and telephone the fire department.

Despite the danger, Frank decided to look for some clue to the fire's origin. Just inside the boat-house door, he noticed a small wad of newspaper lying on the floor. He picked it up and shoved it into his pocket.

At that moment Joe returned with another extinguisher and the watchman ran up with a hand line from a nearby hydrant. With their combined efforts, the blaze was soon extinguished. But the boat-house was badly damaged.

The brothers surveyed it with a feeling of sadness. The place held many pleasant memories. Both boys vowed they would find the person who had set the fire.

A few minutes later the Bayport engines turned into the water-front street. But when the chief discovered that things were under control, he sent his men back to the firehouse. He himself remained to talk with the boys and the watchman for a while.

"How did the fire start?" he asked.

"We have no idea," Joe replied, "except that there was an explosion."

After a quick inspection, the chief was sure that an arsonist was responsible, and the Hardys agreed, but could offer no real clue as to who this might be.

41 When the chief had driven away, and the watchman had returned to his shack, Joe turned to Frank. "Who do you you think set the fire?" think set the fire?"

Suddenly a thought came to Frank. He pulled the wad of newspaper from his pocket.

"This might tell us something," he ventured. "But it's too dark to read here."

The boys returned to their boat to get a flashlight. To their amazement, they saw that the printing was in a strange, oriental-looking script.

"I'll bet this paper was printed in India," Frank said, "and if so, it's my guess one of the smugglers may have set the fire."

"There's one man who can tell us if you're right," Joe reflected. "Looks like a translating job for Ahmed."

"Think he'll be up at this hour of the night?"

The brothers decided that it would be worth a try to find out. As they were about to leave, Joe suddenly halted and exclaimed, "Wait! I almost forgot our girl friend-the hawk."

While he went to retrieve the falcon, Frank made arrangements with the watchman to leave the Sleuth Sleuth at another dock. Then they drove to the small bungalow where Ahmed at another dock. Then they drove to the small bungalow where Ahmed lived. The house was brightly lighted. They rang the bell, and the rug dealer, dressed in a flowing robe of his native country, admitted the boys and their falcon into an attractive living room, furnished in oriental style.

"What brings you boys out at this hour of the 42 night?" Ahmed asked, rolling up a scroll he had evidently been studying.

Frank and Joe took turns supplying the man with the details of their exploits that night.

Frowning in concern, Ahmed took the pieces of wadded newspaper carefully in his hands and spread them on a bronze table top. As he scanned the lines closely a smile crossed the Indian's face, and he beamed as he turned back to his callers.

"This paper contains good news. The date line is Delhi, India, two months past. It is part of a story which reports that Prince Dharmuk, the son of the Maharajah of Hatavab where I came from, is coming to the United States. The boy is eighteen years of age, and is to finish his education in this country. I know that he will gain knowledge and valuable experience here. Prince Tava, as he is called, is a handsome fellow indeed."

Ahmed glanced over the rest of the newspaper but found nothing in any of the other items that could be interpreted as a clue to the ident.i.ty of the firebug.

Frank asked, "How many people in or around Bayport would be likely to read a newspaper from India?"

The rug merchant wrinkled his brow, then replied, "A dozen, perhaps. I have six men from Delhi working for me, and there must be an equal number employed on the fishing boats in the vicinity."

"Thank you very much, Ahmed," Frank said, ris43 ing. "This information may shed some light on our case."

The Hardys bade him good night, returned to their car, and headed for home.

They were up early the next morning. After breakfast Frank suggested that they make arrangements at once to have the boathouse repaired. He telephoned a builder, who agreed to start the work shortly. When he called the local airport, he found that they would have to postpone their aerial search for the smugglers' hide-out, since the helicopter pilot was busy for the rest of that day.

Later that morning, Frank and Joe had a conference with Chief Collig about the fire and left the wad of Delhi newspaper with him. The chief promised to look into the matter thoroughly.

"Joe," Frank said, as they left police headquarters, "if we're going to use our hawk to help us solve the ruby mystery, we'd better do some more practicing with her. We may be needing Miss Peregrine in our pigeon hunt."

"Right. Let's go out to Chet's after lunch."

The Hardys decided to walk and carry the bird, since this would give the falcon an opportunity to become accustomed to them. Frank hooded the bird, picked up the falconer's bag, and they started out.

The boys talked all the way, knowing that it was important for the falcon to come to recognize their voices and thus obey them more promptly. By now, 44 she came readily to either boy's fist for food, as well as to the lure.

When they arrived at the Morton farm, the hired man informed them that Chet had gone to town but was expected back soon. Not wishing to waste time, they left a message for Chet to join them, and immediately set off for the isolated spot on the property where they would release the falcon. There, Joe un-hooded the bird and removed the leash. He then directed her attention to several crows which were flying over a clump of trees nearby and threw her off.

Some sixth sense seemed to warn the other birds, however, for almost as soon as the falcon had left Joe's glove, they flew into a thicket. The hawk circled for a while, then climbed upward into the sky until she appeared no larger than a swallow.

"Maybe we're going to lose her," Joe said, worried.

"I don't believe so," Frank rea.s.sured him. "She's 'waiting on,' expecting us to flush more suitable quarry for her to strike."

"Well, we'll give her some," said Joe, taking the lure from a bag and waving it.

In the same small falconer's bag was a little fresh meat with which the falcon would be rewarded after she struck the lure. But the falcon would not come down.

Frank now swung the lure and both boys looked expectantly into the sky. The next instant, puzzled expressions crossed their faces. The falcon was nowhere in sight.

45 "Now she is is gone!" Joe exclaimed, frowning. gone!" Joe exclaimed, frowning.

Frank, however, felt sure that hawk had not left them for good. "She might have dropped on something when we weren't looking." He suggested that perhaps Chet had returned and could help them search for the hawk. "I'll run over to the house and see."

When he reached the Morton kitchen, lola was there alone.