The Secret Of Skull Mountain Part 7

"Come on, Joe. Grab him!" Frank yelled.

Laughingly, the Hardy boys took hold of their friend, Frank clutching Chet's struggling arms and shoulders and Joe holding his feet.

They started to swing the spluttering youth toward the water.

"One!" Frank counted. "Two-"

Suddenly they heard a crashing noise above them!

They turned their heads swiftly. Two hundred 74 feet above them, a giant boulder was hurtling down the hillside straight at them!

Instantly the boys set Chet on his feet, but the fjround was too rough and the vines too thick. They couldn't get clear of the boulder's path in time!

"Flatten out!" Frank shouted, throwing himself down in the thick foliage and burying his head in his arms.

Joe and Chet at once followed suit.

A moment later, the boulder roared down upon them. Then at the last split second it struck the very rock on which Chet had been sitting, bounded over the boys' prostrate bodies and splashed into the water!

Frank stood up, his face grim.

"Come on!" he told the others.

They raced up the hillside to the place where the boulder had broken loose. There was no one there.

The boys stared hard at the slope in every direction. It seemed impossible that anyone could escape so quickly.

"He must be hiding in a clump of shrubbery," Joe decided.

"We'll have a look," said Frank.

They searched the thickets near by but finally were forced to admit defeat.

Chet, who had gone back to the place where the boulder had been launched, suddenly gave a cry.

"Hey, look!"

75 Frank and Joe ran to where fie was standing. Grinning at them from a near-by rock was a human skull!

"The mountain man!" Joe exclaimed.

"It looks as though he's the one who sent that boulder on its way," Frank said slowly.

He studied the ground carefully for footprints, but it was a stretch of solid rock.

Chet grimaced as Joe picked up the skull.

"I don't know about you two," Chet said, "but the sooner I'm back in Bayport, the better I'll like it!"

He sat down heavily on the rock, with a suspicious glance over his shoulder to make certain that no more boulders were heading in his direction. Frank and Joe joined him.

Some time later, as they sat there, they saw a column of smoke rising from the crest of the mountain. Despite Chet's protests and dire predictions, the Hardy boys decided to make another attempt to find the source of those smoke signals-if that was what they were.

"Okay," Chet a.s.sented grumpily. "But if somebody tries to mash us with another rock, don't blame me!"

They started up the slope toward the smoking crest of Skull Mountain, and soon found themselves skirting the fertile shelf that was Potato Annie's garden. The old woman had been pulling turnips, carrots and beets, and as they watched she swung a 73 basket laden with the vegetables over her arm and hobbled across the hillside.

"Wonder where she's taking those vegetables?" Joe mused.

"Certainly not to Bayport," Frank said. "It's too far away."

"She's not heading toward town, anyway," Chet pointed out.

"You're right."

Frank stared after the retreating figure, then resumed his climb toward the mountain crest. Some other time he and Joe would have to investigate the old woman's activities more thoroughly.

Climbing steadily, the three youths finally arrived at the edge of the woods. Directly below them was Sailor Hawkins' cabin. The boys saw no sign of the old seaman, but as they were about lo leave the clearing and enter the woods a shot rang out, "Ohmygosh!" Chet yelped. "What was that?"

They looked behind them. Sailor Hawkins was standing outside his cabin with a still-smoking rifle. He shook his fist at them.

"Get off me landl" he roared. "Ye no-good swabs!"

The boys hurriedly stepped into the woods and turned in time to see Hawkins disappear into his cabin.

"Who's he?" Chet demanded.

"Oh, just a friend." Joe replied airily.

77 "Some friends you've got!" Chet reported ag-grievedly. "When they're not throwing rocks at you, they're throwing bullets!"

Frank and Joe laughed. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't help ribbing their companion. They started once more in the direction of the smoke-but when they looked for it, they saw that it had disappeared!

"Now what?" Joe groaned.

Frank considered. "We've come this far, so we may as well keep going," he decided.

Joe was dubious but agreed to keep on with the search. They had no sooner resumed their climb, however, when they heard the sound of an axe striking wood.

The Hardy boys looked at one another excitedly. The sound came from the forest-and it was not more than a few hundred yards away!

"Come on!" Frank cried.

Half running in their eagerness, the three youths made their way through the trees toward the sound. Except for the echoing blows of the axe, the forest was strangely still.

They clambered over scattered rocks and carefully skirted a cliff. Then, as the sound of the axe grew louder, they crept forward cautiously.

They were halfway to the spot where they estimated the sound was coming from, then it suddenly stopped.

78 The boys halted and stared ahead anxiously. Had their progress been detected?

They waited a moment for the chopping to resume. When it didn't, Frank broke into a run. Joe and Chet followed suit, and soon they came to a small clearing.

Frank pointed. At the edge of the clearing were the stumps of several freshly cut trees.

He went over to them and examined the ground, "Look here," he said.

Joe's eyes followed his finger. Pressed into the soft earth were the footprints of the man with the missing toe!

Chet eyed the prints over Joe's shoulder.

"Jumping Juniper!" he cried. "Those aie just like the footprints we found in my tent!"

Frank traced the prints for a short distance and saw that they followed a narrow dirt path.

"Come on!" he called. "This way!"

Walking stealthily now, for they had no idea how close they were to their quarry, the boys trailed the mysterious prints. Once they lost them-but Joe found a fresh-cut tree limb the man apparently had dropped, and they soon picked up the trail.

As they hurried forward, diet's eyes fell on a pocketknife, lying beside a tree. He stared at it, disbelievingly. Engraved on it were the initials Ce M.! M.!

79 "Hey!" he shouted. "Look what I found!"

Frank and Joe joined their friend.

"It's my knife!" he told them. "I had it in the pocket of the pants that were stolen!"

"Swell, Chet!" Joe congratulated him. "If we can catch up with this guy, maybe you'll get back your clothes!"

Buoyed up by their find, the boys went ahead with new eagerness. The soft earth of the path made the footprints easy to follow and they made rapid progress. But suddenly the path swung to the left and the footprints vanished.

Puzzled, the boys studied the ground intently. Obviously the man had left the path and struck out over the gra.s.s. But in which direction?

As if answering their question, they heard an almost inaudible sound a short distance to their right. Putting his finger to his lips, Frank signaled the others to follow him. They crept forward quietly, shielding themselves as much as possible behind trees.

A moment later, Frank held up his hand. In a small clearing directly ahead was a man!

He was sitting on a fallen bough-a gaunt-faced man so thin that his bones seemed to be protruding from his flesh.

Long, s.h.a.ggy hair hung over his face and neck, and he scratched at a thick, unkempt beard. He was 80 eating a turnip-gulping it down without taking the time to chew it-and on the ground beside him lay a dozen pieces of split wood and an axe.

Chet's eyes suddenly popped. The man was bare-armed, the sleeves having been torn from his tattered shirt, and barelegged. But around his waist was belted a new pair of khaki shorts.

"My pants!" Chet yelled.

The man stood up swiftly, dropping the half-eaten turnip. He fixed the boys with a fierce stare. Then he grabbed the axe and fled into the woods with a shrill, cackling laugh!

CHAPTER X.

Klenger Disappears.

"after him!" shouted Joe.

The boys raced after the fleeing figure, but they soon saw that their efforts were useless.

The tall, bony creature darted through the woods as if the devil were chasing him-his arms flapping, his long hair flying, and his knees pumping like pistons.

When the grotesque figure disappeared in the woods, the boys saw that further pursuit was out of the question.

"Well, at least we know he's the man with the missing toe," Frank said, as the boys came to a stop.

"Sure-and he stole my clothes!" Chet added heatedly.

"In a way, I don't blame him," Joe put in, grinning. "He looks like he needs them much more than you do!"

"Huh!" Chet sniffed. He shook his head sadly.

"My best pair of khaki shorts!" he said plaintively.

The Hardy boys laughed.

"Cheer up, Chet," Frank told him. "Maybe we can raise a fund to buy you another pair."

Chet brightened, and the talk turned once more to the strange man of the mountain. It was obvious now that he was responsible for setting off the explosion close to the boys'

tents; and the firewood he had cut undoubtedly was the source of the smoke they had seen.

But who he was, and what was behind his actions, and where the wood was being burned remained as much a mystery as ever.

"Probably a hermit," Frank said, in answer to the first question.

"He sure looked like one," Joe agreed.

"Well, whoever he is, I'd sure hate to meet him in these woods on a dark night," Chet remarked. "Especially if he was toting some skulls!"

Back at the camp, the boys waited for Bob and d.i.c.k to arrive, so they could tell them of their encounter with the hermit. But when considerable time had pa.s.sed, and the engineers still had not arrived, Frank and Joe decided to go ahead with their plan for the reservoir.

Two hours later, the Hardy boys, accompanied by Chet, walked down the slope to the water where Bob's skiff was moored. In their arms they carried an a.s.sortment of queer-looking articles-a decoy duck painted white, with the initials F F and and J J daubed daubed 83 83 on the sides in red; a slab of yellow pine, with the same initials carved in the wood and painted red; and a barrel stave painted white and daubed with red stripes.

Chet glanced around apprehensively as Frank rowed the skiff over the murky water. The squeak of the oars, and the trickle of water from the blades were the only sounds the boys heard in the night.

"Let her ride," Joe said, as the boat swung close to the opposite sh.o.r.e.