The Secret Of The Lost Tunnel Part 7

"Okay. Make it snappy."

Frank brought the car to a halt and Chet climbed out. He flipped down the front of his camera case, then tiptoed into the woods. The deer, being downwind, did not scent the boys. They did not move.

"Take 'em from here," Joe said softly.

"No, I have to get closer."

Chet walked a dozen paces, peered into his view finder, and advanced a few more feet.

In the stillness Frank thought he heard the sound of a motor behind them. He looked back. No car was in sight, and the hum stopped.

"Guess I'm jittery," he told himself.

"Hurry up!" Joe called to Chet.

But Chet had other ideas. Still thinking he could 76 get a closer snap, the boy continued to advance, tiptoeing as he went. In a moment he was out of sight.

One of the deer turned his head. Chet dropped down on one knee, holding the camera close to his eye. The deer were in perfect range.

But before Chet could click the shutter, a startled shout broke the stillness of the woodland like crashing gla.s.s. In a flash the deer leaped away.

Chet whirled about to see who had spoiled his picture. No one was in sight. In sudden panic Chet raced back to the road.

"Frank! Joe!" he shouted. "Hey, fellows, where ire you?"

No answer came. The car was deserted!

CHAPTER X.

The Search.

chet peered into the car, then stooped to his knees to look underneath it. Frank and Joe had vanished into thin air.

"Hey, Frank! Joe!" Chet shouted in alarm. Beads of perspiration began to trickle down his freckled face.

Then suddenly he smiled. "They're playing a trick on me. Well, I'll just wait."

But when half an hour went by, Chet became alarmed all over again. Once more he shouted for his companions. By this time he was convinced something had happened to them and decided to go for help.

He got into the car, turned it around, and started back to Centerville as fast as the rugged road would permit. Finally the dirt road joined the main highway and Chet sped through Centerville to the general's home.

"Frank and Joe-they're gone!" he cried out, running into the house.

As Chet related his story, a look of alarm began to appear on the general's face. "They disappeared, you say?"

"They wouldn't go off without telling me. Something's happened to them."

The general had no doubt of this. "There's not a minute to lose. If we can't locate them, I'll notify the police."

As the general drove through town, he asked Chet to look for the fellow who had given them directions to the museum. Chet scanned every person on both sides of the street.

"He's not here now," Chet said. "I'd know him right away, because of his gray whiskers."

"The directions he gave you were false!" the general stated grimly. "The road you took doesn't go near the museum! Someone must have trailed you."

Soon they came to the intersection where the Hardys had left the highway. The officer took the b.u.mpy dirt road which led into the woods.

"Where does this go to?" Chet asked.

79 "It goes straight for a mile, then makes a complete loop and comes out near the old Beauregard Smith plantation."

"Jumping catfish!" Chet exclaimed. "Then we were going in the opposite direction from the museum!"

It was not long before the coupe dipped into the gully and rose over the brow of the hill where Frank had stopped for Chet's attempted picture of the deer.

"Here's the place!" Chet said.

Braking to a halt and shutting off the motor, General Smith stepped out. Chet followed.

"There must have been a struggle here," the general said, examining scuff marks in front of a dense thicket. "Several people were involved."

"The marks go this way." Chet pointed. "Frank and Joe w-were kidnaped!"

With Chet following, the officer pushed into the underbrush and advanced cautiously into the dank woodland. Ferns and tiny white wild flowers which carpeted the forest had been trampled.

"Look at this," General Smith said, bending down to appraise a long mark on the ground. "Somebody dragged his foot."

The reason was evident. The ground was hard, and no footprints were visible. One of the Hardy boys had made the mark on purpose.

80 The officer pressed the search relentlessly, unmindful of the briers that tore his trousers, and seemingly unaware that Chet was puffing along behind him like a Sherman tank.

"Another mark!" the general exclaimed.

The long marks were s.p.a.ced about thirty feet apart. The way was clear, and the officer was making swift progress.

But night was falling rapidly, and soon the gloom was so dense that further progress was impossible without a light. This irked the general. Precious time would be wasted if he had to retrace his steps. Finally he slapped his right fist into the other palm.

"What a dud I am! Coming off without a Hash-light!"

"Must we go back, sir?" Although Chet's legs jched from the forced march through the woods, his loyalty to the Hardys overcame any fear which might otherwise have beset him.

He added: "If you'll stay here, I'll go back to the car and get a flashlight before it's too dark."

"Can you make it alone?"

"Yes, sir."

Chet groped through the partial darkness. The occasional scurrying of an unseen animal frightened him, but he pushed on even faster until he reached the the car. car.

81 Grabbing the flashlight, he headed back toward the spot where he had left the general.

Chet was perspiring when he reached the spot.

"Here you are, sir."

"Good work."

They set off again, this time at a snail's pace, in order not to miss the dragging heel marks made by one of the kidnaped boys. Hour after hour pa.s.sed.

Chet was aching from head to toe and nearly exhausted from the long trek. But whenever he decided he could not go a step farther, the thought of the Hardys in trouble gave him a surge of energy.

Suddenly they stepped out of the forest into a clearing, evidently used as a pasture until a few years ago. It sloped down to a shallow stream^ Across the water a rocky hillside rose abruptly to a craggy top.

"1 haven't seen any tracks for a hundred yards," said the general, stopping to take stock of the situation.

"Do you suppose the-the kidnapers went down the stream?" Chet asked.

"Very possibly. The boys' captors may have waded a distance to throw us off."

"What'll we do now?" Chet queried.

"Hunt for tracks on this side of the water," the officer replied.

82 They combed the pasture gra.s.s to the edge of the stream, but not a clue came to light.

Discouraged, and completely tired out after hours of searching, they lay down to rest. To add to their discomfort, it began to rain so hard that they crossed the stream and took shelter under some overhanging rocks. A faint streak of light brushed the eastern horizon before the rain stopped. Now the hunt could be resumed in daylight.

"I'll look on this side of the brook for footprints," Chet offered.

"Very good," General Smith agreed. "The boys may have crossed somewhere."

Chet zigzagged along the bank.

"See anything?" called the brigadier, who was searching in the opposite direction.

Chet shook his head in the negative, then suddenly let out a whoop. "I've found something!" He held up a shoe.

General Smith hurried to the boy's side. "Does it belong to Frank or Joe?"

"Sure does," said Chet, looking into the shoe.

Impressed into the lining were the words peck co.

BAYPORT.

"Nice work," the officer praised him. "The Hardys probably left this to guide us." Once more they probed the gra.s.s.

83 "Here's the trail again," said the general, following patches of recently broken vegetation over the hill.

"Golly, what a climb!" Chet puffed.

Grasping scrubby trees on the hillside, man and boy worked their way to the top of the incline. The bare rocks revealed no clue of recent travelers, nor had the mossy slope been disturbed lately by any human foot.

General Smith leaned against a boulder and mopped his brow. "We've lost the tracks again," he said.

"Then we have to go back," Chet sighed.

"To the foot of the hill, anyway," his companion replied. "Perhaps we can pick up the trail there."

Slipping over the steep rocks, Chet and the general descended the hill to the spot where the shoe had been found.

"Keep your eyes open for any kind of clue," the officer ordered.

They moved ahead slowly, examining every bent tuft of gra.s.s. Presently Chet came to a spot where the craggy hillside looked different.

"Come here, General Smith!" he called excitedly.

"What's up?"

Chet did not answer. He stopped, spellbound.

"Listen!"

84 The officer stood still. At first he could hear only the ripple ot the brook and the clear whistle of an oriole.

"I hear nothing unusual."

"Shh! It may come again."

The general strained to catch the faintest sound.

Then it came to him! A m.u.f.fled shout from somewhere down inside the earth!

CHAPTER XI.

An Important Canteen.