The Secret Of Skull Mountain Part 10

"Already?" Chet complained.

"Certainly. There's no telling when the stuff may come through. And somebody's got to be around when it does!"

"Okay," the Morton boy agreed reluctantly. "But I can't make it in a half hour. I'm just starting dinner."

"Skip it," Joe told him, "and I'll ask Aunt Gertrude to pack some food for us. She's just made a batch of jelly doughnuts."

"Jelly doughnuts!" Chet cried. "I'll meet you in fifteen minutes!"

Joe laughed and hung up the phone.

Joe had hoped his father would return before he went to meet Chet. But when he could wait no longer for Mr. Hardy to appear, the boy put the basket of food his aunt had prepared in the car and drove to the boat landing.

He parked the roadster across from the shed where he had seen the motorcycle and went toward it on his way to the landing. He opened the door <0f the="" building="" and="" stepped="" inside-then="" stopped="">

The motorcycle was no longer there!

Joe frowned. Sweeper must have returned and 103 taken the machine. But if he had, why hadn't Frank returned, too?

Puzzled, Joe went out on the boat landing. The thin man's speedboat was not moored to the landing -and the Sleuth Sleuth was not in her slip. was not in her slip.

"Hey!" Chet hailed him. He was sitting on the rail of the dock and he wore a look of deep disgust. "Some fifteen minutes!" he said, looking at his watch.

"Sorry, Chet," Joe apologized.

Chet noted the boy's worried expression. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Joe told him of Frank's absence.

"He's been gone several hours," he said. "I'm afraid something's happened to him."

"Golly," Chet said. "I wish there was something we could do."

Joe gave him the food basket.

"Chet, would you mind going out alone in a skiff to hunt for the things we dropped in the water?" he asked. "There's a lead I'd like to track down that may explain where Frank is."

"Heck, no," the other boy a.s.sured him. "I'll phone Biff Hooper. Maybe he'd like to come."

"Swell," said Joe. He went back toward the shed. "See you later!" he called.

Joe examined the dusty floor of the shed and followed the motorcycle tracks to the street. There the heavy-treaded tires left no imprints.

104 Joe stared at the street thoughtfully. Then he got into the roadster and drove to police headquarters.

Chief Collig looked at him sourly. "Oh, so it's you!" he said.

"What's the matter?" Joe asked.

"Plenty," the heavy, red-faced man told him. "There always is when you Hardy kids poke your noses into other people's business," he added grumpily.

Joe was nettled but did not let it show. He was well aware of Collig's long-standing envy of his and Frank's ability to solve mysteries which had the chief stumped. And he knew Collig would never pa.s.s up an opportunity to needle the Hardy boys.

"Mr. Kimball phoned me from Brookside," Collig continued. "He gave me the license number of a motorcycle he wanted returned to him. Said you'd reported seeing the machine in Bayport."

"Then you you took it away!" Joe exclaimed. took it away!" Joe exclaimed.

"Eh?"

"You had the machine taken from the shed and sent back to Mr. Kimball."

"What shed?" the policeman roared.

Joe stared at him with surprise. "You mean you didn't didn't find the motorcycle?" find the motorcycle?"

"No, blast it!" Chief Collig's heavy jowls shook with anger. "Riley was out all afternoon combing the streets for the danged contraption! Said there wasn't any such machine with an out-of-state license in Bayport!"

105 "It was parked in a shed behind the boat landing," Joe explained. "It couldn't be seen was parked in a shed behind the boat landing," Joe explained. "It couldn't be seen from the street."

"This is a fine time to be telling me!" Collig said, glaring at the boy. "When I told Mr.

Kimball his motorcycle wasn't in Bayport, he practically took my hide off!"

"I wonder who did take the motorcycle?" Joe asked, puzzled.

"I don't know," the red-faced officer told him flatly. "And I wouldn't care if I did. I never want to hear of one of those blasted things again!"

At that moment, a motorcycle went roaring past the police station, and Collig turned purple.

Joe listened intently for an uneven rhythm in the motor, but it moved with smooth precision.

The boy went to the door and stole another look at the police chief as he stepped out.

He was fit to be tied!

Later that night, when Frank did not appear, the Hardys became genuinely worried.

Fenton Hardy arrived home a few minutes after ten o'clock. He had been making the rounds of the railroad station and bus terminals, he told Joe, to ascertain whether Klenger had left town. There was no evidence that he had, unless by car, and Mr. Hardy felt that the plumber probably was still in Bayport.

Only half listening, because of his concern for his brother, Joe sought the detective's advice.

106 The Secret ot Skull Mountain "We'll search the bay," his father decided. "Frank can't have gone very far in the Sleuth, Sleuth, unless the boat's fuel tank was full. I'll ask the harbor police to take us out in their launch."

A two-hour search in the coves along the sh.o.r.es of Barmet Bay failed to reveal any sign of the missing boy or of the Sleuth. Sleuth.

The police launch headed into deeper water, Every ship in the harbor was signaled, every flickering light and unusual sound investigated, but still there was no trace of Frank.

"I'm sorry, sir," the police sergeant told Mr. Hardy at last. "I'm afraid we'll have to turn back."

"Let's try just one more place," Joe pleaded. "Merriam Island."

The sergeant looked doubtful.

"If your brother was on the island," he said, "the lighthouse keeper would have radioed the sh.o.r.e."

"Frank might be there without the keeper's knowledge," Joe pointed out. "He might be lying hurt somewhere on the island."

"All right," the sergeant a.s.sented, turning the wheel of the launch. "But this will have to be gui last stop."

Soon, the wind-swept, wave-lashed ma.s.s of rocks that was Merriam Island lay directly ahead of them. The launch swung in as close as it could to a narrow, sandy beach, and Joe jumped into the shallow water and waded ash.o.r.e.

107 "Look!" he cried.

Suddenly exposed by the revolving beam of the lighthouse's powerful navigation light was the white hull of the Sleuth! Sleuth! The speedboat lay alongside a tiny dock. The speedboat lay alongside a tiny dock.

A grizzled, white-haired old man wearing a turtle-neck sweater leaned down over the rail of the tall lighthouse's circular runway. He put a megaphone to his lips.

"Who are ye? What do ye want?" he shouted.

"I'm looking for my brother!" Joe yelled up at him.

The lighthouse keeper shook his head.

"What?" he roared.

Joe made a megaphone of his hands.

"I'm looking for my brother!" he shouted again.

"He's not here!" the keeper yelled back. "There's n.o.body on this island but me!"

"He must be here!" Joe shouted. "His boat is moored at the dock."

He pointed to the boat, and saw the keeper look in that direction. Then the old man shook his head.

"Not here!" he repeated, and went inside the lighthouse.

Joe turned to find his father standing beside him.

"I don't like this at all," Mr. Hardy said.

"Dad, maybe Frank left the island on another boat," Joe told him. "If he did, he may have left p note!"

108 They went to the Sleuth Sleuth and examined it carefully. In the c.o.c.kpit they found Frank's and examined it carefully. In the c.o.c.kpit they found Frank's shoes and jacket. Then, after a long search, Joe found what they were looking for-a message from Frank. Jammed into the short-wave set was a folded piece of white paper.

While Mr. Hardy held a flashlight, the boy opened the note. They read it silently.

The police sergeant came over to them.

"Are you almost finished here, sir?" he asked the detective.

"Sergeant, my son and I will return to Bayport in the speedboat," Mr. Hardy told him.

"Thanks very much for your a.s.sistance. I'll let you know when we find Frank."

The sergeant touched his cap and waded out to the police launch. Joe and his father watched the boat back into deeper water, then swing in a foamy circle toward Bayport.

They read Frank's message again. It said: "Changing to Sweeper's-"

Why hadn't the boy completed the message, they wondered. Was it because he was in a hurry? Or had he been interrupted? And why had he taken off his shoes and jacket?

They looked out at the murky water, as if it held the answer.

CHAPTER XIII.

Cast Adrift.

As frank swung the Sleuth Sleuth away from the boat landing in pursuit of Sweeper's speeding away from the boat landing in pursuit of Sweeper's speeding craft, he felt a sudden premonition of danger.

He glanced over his shoulder at the boathouse> half tempted to turn back and ask Joe to join him, but his brother had disappeared.

Frank shook off the feeling with a little laugh.

"I must be getting jittery," he told himself sardonically.

He guided the Sleuth Sleuth skillfully across Barmet Bay, skirting ships and smaller craft and skillfully across Barmet Bay, skirting ships and smaller craft and holding the boat to as fast a speed as he dared in order to cut down the distance between him and Sweeper.

The thin man's speedboat headed out to sea-and behind it, at a distance calculated not to arouse suspicion, the Sleuth Sleuth followed. followed.

The two boats held this position for a half hour.

109.

110 Then Frank saw Sweeper's craft curve toward Merriam Island.

He twisted the wheel of the Sleuth, Sleuth, and the trim speedboat described a wide, foamy arc and the trim speedboat described a wide, foamy arc as it followed suit.

Directly ahead, the boy saw Barmet lighthouse, a tall, white tower which warned ships away from jagged reefs and shoals. Stretching away from its base was barren, rock-bound Merriam Island.

Sweeper slowed his boat, and cautiously circled the island.

"Wonder what he's going there for?" Frank mused.