The Secret Of The Lost Tunnel Part 12

"Careful," Frank warned. "Don't break the leather. General Smith will certainly want to keep this."

Joe handled the bandoleer gingerly, turning the silver ammunition box over and over in a vain attempt to locate a hasp or tiny hinges.

126.

127 "I can't find any way to open the darn thing, either," he said finally. "We'll have to put it under a magnifying gla.s.s."

"Let me see it," Chet begged, extending an eager hand.

As Joe gave the bandoleer to his friend, they heard a woman scream. The cry for help that followed came from the woods just ahead of theml "Someone's in trouble!" Frank cried. "She may need help."

The three boys raced toward the direction from which the sound had come. The Hardys soon outdistanced Chet, looking carefully on every side as they ran.

Toe and Frank searched futilely for the woman. "h.e.l.lo! h.e.l.lo!" Joe shouted, but got no reply.

"That's funny," Frank said. "The voice sounded - Hey, did you hear Chet cry out?"

The brothers turned and rushed back. A hundred feet beyond Chet was struggling up from the ground, rubbing his head.

"G-get him!" he cried hoa.r.s.ely. "He hit me from behind and grabbed the bandoleer!"

The Hardys waited for no further explanation than Chet's pointing finger. The woman's cry, they reasoned, had been only a hoax to separate the boys while someone stole the secret to the miss128 ing gold! The brothers could hear two persons crashing through the woodland, and raced after them at top speed. Probably one of them had imitated a woman's voice.

"They're heading for the highway!" Frank exclaimed.

The boys saw two men scramble up the embankment to the bridge. A moment later they heard the roar of a motor.

"They've got a car!"

A black sedan, which had been parked on the other side of the bridge, sped in the direction of Centerville as the boys climbed to the road.

"We'll catch 'em!" Frank dashed toward their own car, then let out a cry of despair. "Our tires! They're flat! Those men let the air out of them!"

"What goofs we were not to leave Chet here on guard while you and I searched for the bandoleer," Joe said bitterly. "Some more of Dr. Bush's dirty work."

At that moment Chet lumbered up the bank and onto the bridge. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Why didn't you chase those guys?"

Joe told him as he opened the trunk and pulled out a hand pump.

"Hey, a car's coming!" Frank said. He raised his hand and the small vehicle squealed to a stop.

129 "Give me a lift? I'm after a thief."

"Hop in," said the young man.

Frank turned to his brother and Chet. "Meet me in Centerville. I'm going to find out where that car went!"

Frank stepped into the car, and the driver continued in the direction in which the black sedan had fled only a few minutes before. Without revealing the details, Frank told the driver the boys had been robbed. Upon hearing this, the man speeded up. When they came to the brow of a small hill, Frank saw the sedan crossing a ridge a mile away.

"There they go!"

The excitement of the chase stimulated the driver, who pressed the accelerator to the floor. But they could not overtake the sedan. Suddenly at a crossroad, Frank's keen eyes spotted the telltale marks of a swerving car.

"They turned in here," he said.

The driver stopped, backed up, looked at the skid marks, and agreed with Frank.

"But," he added, "I must get to Hilton right away. I'm a doctor. Wish I could follow that car, but I have an emergency case."

"Then let me off here," Frank said. "And thanks for the lift."

The doctor iped off. Frank examined the marks 130 of the thieves' car. After noting the design of the treads for further identification, he set off along the road at a trot. A mile farther on, he paused again at another crossroad, picked out the right-hand fork, and hurried on.

After following the tire tracks half a mile, he stopped short. The lines suddenly left the road and slewed off into a thicket.

Entering the woods, he proceeded with caution, to avoid any possible danger of detection. The tracks led into a thick copse, interspersed with scrubby trees. Except for a few birds and a scampering squirrel, there was not a sound. Suddenly, under a low-hanging tree, Frank came upon the sedan.

"It's abandoned," he noted, as he went up to examine the car. "I'll bet it was stolen."

The character of Dr. Bush's gang began to grow clearer on the screen of Frank's imagination. They Were a daring lot, who apparently would stop at nothing to gain their objectives.

Frank jotted down the license number of the car, then studied the footprints near the sedan. They were hard to follow, as the thieves seemed to have separated at this point.

Frank chose the deepest prints, which presently led back to une road. From here they were straight, skirting the old battlefield 131 of Rocky Run. Then like magic they were gone completely, as if the man had picked up a ride. As Frank stood debating what to do next, he realized that the old museum was off to the right. Had the thieves gone there? He decided to investigate.

"I'll see what's going on anyway," Frank decided. "That professor and the guard sure are phonies."

As Frank walked along, he mulled over the events of the past few hours. He was convinced there might be a tie-in between the man who had grabbed the bandoleer and the professor. This time he would spy on the place, and perhaps learn something important.

Frank jumped a ditch beside the road and hid behind a tree. After taking a cautious glance at the museum and seeing n.o.body, he pressed his way along a field fence and made for the rear of the old museum.

n.o.body was in sight. The windows were closed and locked, as well as the cellar door.

Deciding to risk a look inside the old headquarters, Frank slipped quietly around to the front door. It stood open. The guard was not there. Frank listened. Not a sound. He walked in.

From somewhere in the building came an indistinct but angry voice. "You fool . . . the secret . . . you bungle everything, Smiley!"

132 That voice! Where had Frank heard it?

"I tell you it ain't safe to carry it!" Smiley cried out. "n.o.body'd think of lookin' for it among the souvenirs," he declared.

Frank's head spun. Darting around the room like a swallow locked in a barn, he glanced at all the tables and looked under the large exhibits for the stolen bandoleer. Suddenly his eyes spotted something unusual in the display case where he had picked up the old canteen. A general's cap was tilted at a peculiar angle. Frank lifted it. Underneath lay the silver ammunition box!

In spite of himself, Frank let out a low whistle as he grasped the box, and tiptoed toward the door.

Just before he reached the end of the room, a section of the floor in front of him raised up without warning. Smiley stepped out of a trap door. Frank side-stepped him neatly, but the man spotted the ammunition box in the boy's hand.

"You're not getting away with thatl" Smiley snarled, and lunged toward him.

CHAPTER XVII.

Breaking a Code.

frank's fleet-footedness might have gained him freedom from the guard had it not been for a new menace. Someone was running toward the entrance. He knew that if he were to escape it would be only by a luse. Frank's brain worked with electronic speed. He called out the door: "Get him, Joe!"

He waited a moment, then turned. Smiley was almost upon him. With head down and arms in front of him, Frank hit the man with the velocity of a fullback plowing through the line.

Smiley grunted, reeled, and crashed to the floor.

Frank bolted through the door, ready for his next opponent. No one was in sight, Had the ruse worked?

133.

134 His long legs fairly flew down the road. He looked back. Someone was following. Frank doubled his pace. His pursuer finally was lost from sight.

Frank did not slacken his speed until he was half a mile away. Then he settled down to an easy lope, clutching the ammunition box tightly.

Presently he came to the highway leading into Centerville. He had not gone far when he heard a car. Apprehension gripped him. Had the enemy caught up with him?

Frank hid behind a hedge and waited, his heart pounding like a riveting machine. As the car approached, Frank's spirits gave a leap of joy. It was the Hardys' new coupe!

''Hi, there!" he called out, stepping into the road.

Joe stopped so suddenly Chet hit the dashboard. Frank jumped in.

"I've got it!" he panted, showing his prize. "Get to the general as fast as you can!"

"Jumping catfish!" Joe cried, and sent the car racing down the road.

As they drove, Frank told the boys how he had trailed the thieves and seized the precious box.

"There's no doubt now Smiley-that's the guard's name-is mixed up in this thing, and maybe the professor," he said. "I wish I could place that other voice in the cellar."

135 "Was it one of the kidnapers?" Joe asked.

"I don't know. But you remember only one of those three men talked."

"Maybe the fellow in the cellar was Baby Face," Chet suggested.

Frank jumped. "Chet, you've got it! It's Baby Face all right without his Southern accent!

He was was the one in the shoot." the one in the shoot."

"The-the one who tried to clip you? Say listen, fellows, from here on count me out. Let the police take over. It's their business to run risks and get shot up if they want to, not mine.

I-I-why, just think, even if they didn't kill me-"

"They might starve you to death, you mean." Frank grinned, then became serious.

"You've got a point, just the same, Chet. I'm recommending to General Smith that the police investigate the museum and its new owner and his friends."

When the brigadier heard the story, he lost no time informing the chief of police of the strange doings at the old museum. He did not mention their interest in the missing gold, being of the opinion the gang now had been smoked out and would leave town.

Chet felt relieved to think the troublemakers might be arrested, or at least leave the vicinity, but Frank and Joe were of a different opinion. The 136 missing gold was a big prize. If that was what the men were after, they would not be frightened into running away. Probably they would stick around Centerville, but change their point of operation to a more secluded one.

"I wasn't much of a detective," General Smith remarked about his own investigation of Professor Randolph. "The museum was running the same as ever when I visited it. The old Negro was there and everything was peaceful. I didn't pick up a clue."

Joe's eyes popped. "Maybe you did pick up a clue," he said. "If Smiley wasn't on guard, he might have been the one who attacked Chet and stole the bandoleer."

During the conversation, Frank had gone to the kitchen and asked Claude for a jar of silver polish and a cloth. The others followed and watched as he went to work on the ammunition box. In a few minutes the old souvenir, dulled by its long repose in the bridge abutment, shone brightly.

"Why'd you do that?" Chet asked.

"So I can see any faint lines," Frank said. "Joe, will you get our magnifying gla.s.s?"

His brother went to the trunk of the car and returned with a special kit the Hardys always carried. From it he took a powerful gla.s.s. Frank held the 137 ammunition box under a bright light and went over it in minute detail.

"I think I see the place where you open this," he said at last.

"Where?" Joe asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Right here in the corner." Frank pointed to a tiny circle cleverly worked into one edge of the box. "Now if the spring hasn't rusted," he said, "this ought to do it!"

Frank snapped out the can-opener blade of his knife and carefully pressed the point against the circle. With a sharp click that startled the onlookers, the top of the box sprang open as if by magic.

"Bravo!" the general shouted.

"What a clever lock!" Joe said, emitting a low whistle. "No wonder those crooks couldn't open it."

Frank pried a piece of folded parchment paper from the bottom of the box, where it had been pressed down so tightly that at first it had seemed to be part of the ammunition box.

The paper was in perfect condition despite the many years it had lain secreted. Frank handed it to the brigadier.

"Just think," Joe said, "the last man to see this was your grandfather, old General Smith!"

The officer did not reply. The room became hushed as the boys observed the solemn demeanor of his handsome, tanned face. Then he spoke.

138 "This is strange, very strange indeed," he said. "I suddenly had the feeling that I was standing in my grandfather's place, there in the old headquarters, when he put this paper back into the ammunition box and made ready for battle."

Chet gulped and fidgeted. He wanted to know Ivhat was on the paper.

"This is a great moment for me," the man went on. "I wonder what the message says."