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Secret two persons know is no secret, Secret three persons know is knowledge shouted to the world. That is an old saying. Duck your heads, we come about on a new tack."
They ducked. The sail swung from one side to the other. The boat heeled the opposite way and started on its new tack, straight towards the lights of Fishingport.
"Skeleton Island is right behind us now," Chris said. "But we head for town."
Again the boys peered through the darkness, trying to see the island. Then Bob gasped.
"Look!" he yelled. "Lights!"
Suddenly in the darkness lights had appeared. They made a circular pattern, like the lights on a merry-go-round. Music carousel music! floated over the water.
The lights started to revolve, slowly, then faster and faster. A moment later, a pale figure appeared, moving among the merry-go-round's painted horses.
"The phantom of the merry-go-round!"
Pete cried. "It has to be it's a girl in a white dress!"
"Chris, turn round!" Jupiter begged.
"We have to investigate this."
"Not me!" Chris exclaimed. "That is the ghost all right. She is back to take her ride on the merry-go-round now the movie people have it fixed. We get away from here.
Wish I had a motor, so we go faster! "
He kept the boat headed straight for Fishingport. Bob and Pete were rather glad, but Jupe was obviously disappointed. He itched to see a real phantom at close range.
Behind them the merry-go-round kept spinning, a blaze of lights in the darkness.
Sally Farrington trying to finish her last ride, twenty-five years after she had died! Bob shivered at the thought.
Then, unexpectedly, the music stopped. The lights went out. The carousel and the white figure were gone. For some reason poor Sally Farrington had been unable to finish her last ride.
Jupiter sighed in disappointment. Half an hour later they were safe at Mrs. Barton's boarding house in Fishingport, and Mrs. Barton was spreading the news by telephone of their being found. She made Pete, Bob and Jupe take hot baths and get straight into bed.
They were glad to do so. But, just before he dozed off, Jupe murmured out loud, "I wish I could have got closer to the phantom!"
"That remark," replied Pete sleepily, "does not reflect the sentiments of the rest of The Three Investigators!"
Skeleton Island at Last
As BOB AWOKE, he was puzzled to see a slanting ceiling with striped wallpaper over his head. Then he remembered. He wasn't at home. He was three thousand miles from Rocky Beach, in a town called Fishingport, on Atlantic Bay.
He sat up and looked round. He was in the upper half of a double bunk. Below him Pete was fast asleep. In a bed a few feet away Jupiter Jones was also sleeping.
Bob lay back again, thinking over the strange events of the previous night.
There was a rap on the door. "Boys!" It was Mrs. Barton, the plump, cheerful landlady. "Breakfast is waiting, and Mr. Crenshaw is downstairs. Be down in five minutes or we'll throw it out! "
"We'll be there!" Bob leaped down to the floor. Pete and Jupiter, awakened by the voices, were soon dressed, and they all hurried downstairs. In a bright yellow dining room, decorated with various nautical objects, breakfast was waiting. Two men sat at the table, conversing in low tones and drinking coffee.
Pete's father, a large, ruggedly built man, jumped up as the boys entered. "Pete!" he exclaimed, putting an arm round his son. He shook hands with Bob and Jupiter. "I certainly was glad last night to hear you'd been found and were safe. By then you were asleep, so I hurried back to Skeleton Island. We have to guard our supplies and equipment every minute these days. But we'll come to that later. Right now I want your story."
As The Three Investigators ate, they took turns telling what had happened the night before. The other man, who was introduced as Police Chief Nostigon, nodded and puffed on a stubby pipe as he listened. While the boys got to the part about the man named Sam, Mr. Crenshaw turned to the police chief.
"This fellow Sam?" he asked. "Can you place him?"
"Sounds like Sam Robinson to me," the chief said, a trifle grimly. "Know him well.
Been in jail a few times. Do anything for money, and likes to play practical jokes.
Wonder if he could have been trying some crazy joke last night? Expect I'll have to ask him a few questions."
"That was no practical joke!" Mr. Crenshaw exploded. "I want to ask that fellow some questions myself. One, how he knew the boys were coming. Two, how he knew they were amateur investigators. And three, why he marooned them on that island.
Why, we might not have found them until today or tomorrow if that boy Chris hadn't rescued them! "
"That's a fact," the chief agreed. "When we learned you lads had got off the plane and then vanished into thin air, we were looking on lane for you. Stopped cars for miles around to ask questions."
"What I want to know," said Mr. Crenshaw, "is how this kid Chris was able to find you so easily. What's his story?"
The three boys were forced to confess they had forgotten to ask him. They had meant to then they had seen the merry-go-round and the ghostly figure of a woman on it, and in the excitement the question had slipped their minds.
"You saw the ghost?" Mr. Crenshaw exclaimed. "But that's impossible. The phantom of the merry-go-round is just a local superst.i.tion! "
"Now hold on a minute," Chief Nostigon said. "Folks around here believe in that phantom pretty strongly. The last few years, more than one fisherman has seen it on a stormy night out on Skeleton Island. Hardly a soul will go near that island now.
"What's more, the whole town is buzzing about the phantom riding the merry-go-round last night. Lots of folks heard the music, and a few got out spygla.s.ses and could see a white figure just like these boys describe it. I'm not saying I believe in ghosts, but you can't get a soul in these parts to believe poor Miss Sally Farrington's spirit wasn't trying to ride that merry-go-round last night."
Pete's father shook his head. "This whole part of the picture is jinxed! I'll bet not a single workman shows up today."
"And maybe not tomorrow either," agreed Chief Nostigon. "Well, Mr. Crenshaw, I'll pick up Sam Robinson and ask him some questions. But we still don't know just how the boy Chris found these lads last night."
"It's darned suspicious, if you ask me," Mr. Crenshaw said. "That kid has been pestering me for a job, but he's got a bad reputation locally. Plenty of people say he's a clever little thief. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a hand in all the trouble we've been having."
"Chris didn't seem like a thief to us, Dad," Pete put in. "He seemed like an all-right kid. He has a sick father to help, and he sails round looking for washed-up treasure, but that's nothing against him."
"The boy's right," Chief Nostigon agreed. "I know Chris has a bad reputation, but he's a foreigner and most folks in this town are pretty clannish. They're ready to believe anything bad of a foreigner."
"Just the same, I have my suspicions of him," Mr. Crenshaw declared. "Now that I think of it, it could easily be a boy stealing our equipment. Maybe he's hoping to sell it to help his father."
He stood up. "All right, boys, let's get going. Mr. Denton himself is waiting out on the island for us. Chief, I'll be seeing you later. Meanwhile, I hope you can find this Sam Robinson and clap him in jail."
A few minutes later, Jupiter, Pete and Bob were in a fast motor-boat speeding to Skeleton Island. They would have liked to look round Fishingport more, but they didn't have time. They saw many docks and piers, but few boats they understood that most fishermen had gone to the south end of Atlantic Bay where oystering was still safe and legal. All in all, Fishingport looked like a small and very poor fishing village.
Now, as the speedboat raced through the water, they eyed the island ahead with interest. It was a mile long, well wooded, and had a small hill towards the north end.
They could barely see the remains of Pleasure Park through the trees. Across this mile of water, boats had once ferried gay crowds of merrymakers, but that day was far in the past.
They coasted in to an old pier at the south end of Skeleton Island, and Pete made a line fast. Another motor-boat was tied up there, a wide craft with special steps over the side the kind of boat often used for Scuba diving.
Mr. Crenshaw led the boys up a well-marked trail. They soon reached a clearing where two trailers and several large, army-style tents had been set up.
"There's Mr. Denton," Pete's father said. "He drove down from Philadelphia yesterday for a conference and is going right back."
A young man wearing horn-rim gla.s.ses came towards them. Behind him three other men waited, one with greying hair who the boys soon learned was Harry Norris, the a.s.sistant director; a blond young man with a crew cut, who was Jeff Morton; and a big, barrel-chested man with a stiff left arm and a gun strapped to his waist who was Tom Farraday, the guard.
"This is our camp for now," Mr. Crenshaw went on. "We ferried the trailers and equipment over on a barge. The tents are all right until the main company gets here, then we'll need more trailers."
He pointed out and identified the other men, then spoke to Roger Denton, the director.
"Sorry to be a little late, Mr. Denton," he said. "I stopped to get the boys."
"Good," Roger Denton said. He looked rather upset. "Harry Norris has just been telling me about all the delays and I'm not happy about them. If you find you can't get the roller coaster working in a week, we'll forget Skeleton Island altogether. It's a great place for the scenery we want, but we may be able to save money by renting a roller coaster back in California and artificially ageing it. We can take back groundshots here that will give us the wonderful old, dilapidated effect."
"I'm positive we can get the roller coaster fixed," Mr. Crenshaw said. "I've got a call out for carpenters now."
"I doubt if you'll get them," Roger Denton said grimly. "Not since the whole town knows the ghost was seen riding the merry-go-round last night."
"That ghost!" Pete's father exclaimed. "I wish I could figure that out."
Tom Farraday, standing a few feet away, coughed apologetically.
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Crenshaw," he said. "I guess well, I'm afraid I was the ghost folks saw last night."
The Skull Talks
"IT'S LIKE THIS," the guard explained as everyone stared at him. "Last night, I was here alone on guard when you all went to the mainland to look for the boys. When the storm hit, I took cover in a trailer. After the storm I heard a motor-boat, and I went out to see if maybe some thief had landed. I thought I saw a dark figure lurking behind the merry-go-round. As I started that way, I saw someone run away.
"I was worried that he'd been fooling with the motor, right after you got it fixed. So I turned on the lights and started it up. Of course the music started playing and the merry-go-round started turning. I walked round it, making sure there was no damage, then I turned it off."
"But the ghost, man, the ghost!" Mr. Crenshaw exclaimed.
"Well, sir " Tom Farraday seemed embarra.s.sed "I was wearing a yellow storm slicker. And from a distance me in a yellow slicker probably looked enough like somebody in a white dress so that folks thought well, you know."
"Oh, no!" Pete's father groaned. "Tom, you've got to go ash.o.r.e later and tell everybody exactly what happened."
"Yes, sir," the guard said.
"As if we didn't have enough troubles already," sighed Mr. Crenshaw. "Well, we'll hire two more guards. Tom, look for two good men. None of these no-good fishermen who'll pretend to guard our equipment and then steal it get honest men."
"Yes, sir."
"The idea of these boys doing a little private sleuthing for us on the quiet is no good now," Mr. Crenshaw said to Roger Denton. "Everybody in town seems to know they're boy detectives. That fellow Sam Robinson for one, though I'm blamed if I can figure out how."
"I think I can explain that, too, sir," Tom Farraday spoke up. "You see, when you and Mr. Denton were discussing the whole idea on the telephone with Mr. Hitchc.o.c.k in Hollywood -well, most phones in this town are still on party lines. Other people can listen in. You know how it is in small towns. People snoop. It was probably all over town as soon as you hung up.
Mr. Crenshaw groaned. "That's what we're up against!" he said. "I'll be happy to get back to Hollywood. This Skeleton Island idea is turning into a jinx."
"We can get some beautiful shots here," Roger Denton said, "if you can get the roller coaster fixed up. Well, I have to get back to the mainland and start for Philadelphia. Jeff, suppose you ferry me over."
"Sure thing, Mr. Denton," the younger man said, and they started for the pier.
Mr. Crenshaw turned to the boys.
"Why don't I show you round while Jeff is gone?" he said. "As soon as he gets back, he'll see how well you boys can dive."
"Great, Dad!" said Pete.
A short walk brought them to a tumbledown fence. They walked over it and were in the abandoned amus.e.m.e.nt park. Pleasure Park really did look decayed. Refreshment stands were half caved in. The rides were rusty and falling apart. The Ferris wheel had toppled over in a storm and lay in pieces on the ground. An ancient roller coaster still stood upright, but with some timbers of its foundation dangling loose.
But the boys were most interested in the huge, old merry-go-round. Even in daylight, it had a spooky look, its paint peeling and new wood showing where Mr. Crenshaw's men had repaired it.
Mr. Crenshaw told the boys how it was to be used in the movie. "The way the picture is going to end is this: It's about a man who is falsely accused of a crime and is trying to find the true criminal. That's where the t.i.tle comes from Chase Me Faster Chase Me Faster.
Finally the criminal hides on Skeleton Island here. Some young people row out for a picnic. They try the old merry-go-round, while the criminal secretly watches them."
"Golly, that sounds pretty exciting," Pete said. "Where does the roller coaster come into it, sir?" Jupiter asked.
"The hero tracks the criminal here and starts to close in on him. The criminal abducts two girls from the picnic party and forces them into a car of the roller coaster.