The Bombay Boomerang (12 page)

A dead silence greeted the announcement. Jal Agopal spoke to a number of the men assigned to the unloading, but they all insisted that they were hard at work at the time. Even the eyewitnesses had no idea how it had happened.

Frank and Joe conversed in low tones with the chief officer, describing the individual who had been following them around the ship. Agopal invited them to inspect those on the deck, and to see if they could identify their shadow.

The boys went down the line, peering sharply into each face. At the end, they declared positively that the man in question was not there.

“He must have sneaked aboard,” Frank suggested to the chief officer.

“That may well be correct,” he replied with a worried frown. “This is the whole crew. Any additional personnel would be strictly unauthorized. As long as we remain in port, I will post special guards to catch this stranger if he tries to slip on or off the ship. But why would he deliberately try to harm you?”

“Perhaps he mistook us for someone else,” Frank said casually. Soon after that, he and Joe went ashore. They shook hands with Jal Agopal, climbed down the swaying stairs from which they had almost been swept while boarding the ship, and made their way back to the hotel.

Soon they were sitting in their room munching sandwiches and discussing the recent events. Frank scratched his head. “The mystifying thing is how this character knew enough to follow us aboard. We didn't broadcast the news of our arrival.”

“I'm with you on that. But don't forget that the mercury gang has a lot of operatives, including several who can identify us on sight. They must have tailed us, learned of our plan, and detailed an agent to arrange a rousing welcome for us on the freighter.”

Frank nodded. “Rousing and final. He carried out his assignment so well that flowers would have been appropriate if that carpet hadn't come along in time to offer you a lift.”

“Don't I know it! I can still feel myself going down the hatch in a perfect swan dive!”

“Then there's the question—”

Frank never got to state the question. A tremendous thump on the door brought both boys to their feet. Racing to the door, they wrenched it open and caught a glimpse of a furtive figure disappearing into the elevator.

A heavy, circular, wooden object, propped up against the door, toppled forward, tripping them up.

“This looks familiar,” Joe observed as he tilted it on edge and rolled it into the room.

“It should,” Frank answered grimly. “That's the top of the cask Dad was in when the thugs dropped him into the harbor. They must have found it down on the dock. Do you realize what this means?”

“This!” Joe pointed to a message painted across the wood with a spray gun. It said:

Joe touched the lettering with his finger. “This paint job wasn't done too long ago. It's hardly dry.”

“It was probably done after your unsuccessful trip into the cargo hold. I wonder when they found the lid!”

“We'd better call Dad and tell him that his escape has been discovered.”

“First let's clear out of this place or—” Another sound at the door brought them to their feet again, ready for action. Since they had left the door ajar, they expected a band of thugs to come storming in on them. Frank seized a chair and swung it in front of him. Joe prepared to use his favorite karate technique.

A hand pushed the door wide open. Two figures stood on the threshold.

“Relax!” a familiar voice exclaimed.

“No need to break up the furniture just because we're here,” said another.

Joe grinned at their pals from Bayport. “Boy, are we glad to see you! We were expecting to tango with some rather unfriendly partners.”

“Including,” Phil guessed, “the strong-arm pair from our home town?”

“The same. But what brings you here just when the death-defying Hardys were about to go into their act?” Frank asked.

“Your father,” Tony explained. “Indirectly, anyhow. He told us he had left you here to case an Indian freighter. After we talked to him, it seemed cruel to let you handle this problem by yourselves, especially since you might be eyeball-to-eyeball with an entire gang. So we decided to give you some shock troops support.”

“We can use it!” Frank said, then told his friends about the enemy's latest strike against Joe.

“Seems as if we're going to get a piece of real good action!” Phil declared.

“You might. But first tell us the latest news from Bayport. How's Chet doing?”

Tony chuckled. “We would have brought him along, but he's too busy with his boomerangs. In fact, he's such a success that he's going into business, selling them to a local hardware store. There's no lack of customers. The kids have a boomerang club, and they're tossing those things like crazy all over the landscape!”

“Not only the landscape,” Phil said with a laugh. “So many of them keep whirling off-course in Bayport that the glaziers are doing a bang-up business replacing broken windows. Quite a few hats have been knocked off, too. No injuries, however, as far as we've heard.”

Finally Frank called the meeting to order. “Phil and Tony, suppose you stay here in the hotel room. Joe and I will go down the fire escape to avoid any thugs who might be lurking in the lobby. We must phone a warning to Dad that his cover's been blown for a second time. Then the four of us will hold a council of war concerning our tactics. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

Frank and Joe descended the fire escape without incident, located a pay phone booth, and called their Bayport contact again. No one was home at the Hardy house, however, and the neighbor promised to pass the warning on to Fenton Hardy as soon as he returned.

The boys went back to the hotel and circled around to the rear. Suddenly Joe nudged Frank and pointed upward. A man was climbing up the fire escape toward their room! He moved cautiously, casting covert glances at the tenth-floor window.

The Hardys exchanged silent signals. Joe ran around to the lobby. Seizing the house phone, he told Phil and Tony of the approaching prowler. Frank started up the fire escape at top speed, but the man, with a long head start, reached the open window before him and edged himself through into the room.

As Frank mounted, he heard sounds of a struggle. Phil and Tony had jumped the intruder, and he was giving them a battle royal. Breaking loose, he scrambled back over the window ledge, regained the fire escape, and started down.

Only then did he become aware that Frank was on his way up to meet him. He turned to retreat up the fire escape. Frank brought him down with a flying tackle on the ninth-floor landing.

High above the street, they grappled with one another on the iron platform. Frank's powerful adversary threw him on his back and began to pound his head against the iron grating. In a desperate attempt to break the man's grip Frank wedged a hand under his chin.

Clutched in deadly embrace the two rolled toward the edge of the landing, and toward nine stories of empty space beneath them!

 

 

 

 

FRANK grabbed one of the bars of the fire escape to keep from going over the edge. Wrenching himself free, he scrambled to his feet and met his opponent with a one-two combination of punches. The man keeled over backward and lay motionless.

“Cold as a clam,” Frank thought. “It's good he left me that opening or I might be on a long jump to the street.”

He turned to the other three who had joined him on the landing. “Let's tote our visitor inside and hear what he has to say for himself.”

They carried the man into their room and placed him on one of the beds. As he gradually returned to consciousness, his body twitched and he mumbled in a foreign language. He was young, no more than twenty, the boys estimated.

They searched him and found a carved dagger of a type common in the Orient.

“He's from India,” Phil observed, studying the youth's skin and regular features.

“And that must be Hindustani he's speaking,” Tony said. “It's no language I ever heard.”

“Correct on all counts,” Joe asserted. “I've seen this man before. He was aboard the Indian freighter. Remember, Frank? He was in that line-up we inspected.”

Frank pinched his lower lip thoughtfully. “Yes, I thought I recognized the face during our tussle on the fire escape. This can only mean one thing. He's in cahoots with the guy that tried to throw you down into the cargo hold, Joe. Maybe others are involved too—including our friend Agopal.”

Joe nodded grimly. “I was hoping that it had been an outside job, but now the whole crew is suspect.”

“You should have your answer in just a moment,” Tony spoke up. “Our friend appears to be coming to.”

The man groaned and opened his eyes. Obviously the four faces staring sternly down at him frightened him. He moved over to the wall before sitting up.

“Who are you?” he stammered, looking at Phil and Tony.

“Suppose you tell us who you are,” Joe said firmly.

“My name is Nathoo Keeka. I belong to the crew of the
Nanda Kailash.
We finished unloading here in Baltimore and were given shore leave.”

“What have you got against me and my brother?” Frank demanded. “You're going to stay where you are until you tell us the truth!”

The Indian sailor hesitated. He seemed to be debating with himself about how much he should tell. At last he spoke.

“I will tell you the truth, no matter what you may decide to do with me. There is nothing the least bit dishonorable in my conduct.”

“Oh, no?” Tony exploded. “What's so high-minded about armed robbery with a dagger?”

“Robbery was not my intention,” Keeka protested indignantly. “I am no thief. I am a faithful worshipper of the high god Krishna!

“You!” He pointed an accusing finger at Frank and Joe. “You are the guilty ones. You have committed a sacrilege!”

The four boys were dumbfounded.

“Come again?” Joe suggested weakly.

“You two have desecrated a statue of Krishna. For that you must be punished. I am but the unworthy instrument of divine vengeance!”

“There's a crazy kind of sense coming out here,” Frank muttered, pulling up a chair. He waved the others back to give the man more breathing room.

“Now listen to me,” he advised their prisoner. “That's an absurd charge. We haven't been near a statue of Krishna or any other Hindu god. Who told you that story?”

“Another man on the dock described the incident. He swore he saw you deface the image. I must vindicate the honor of the god who is sacred to me!”

“Tell us about the man who spun this yarn,” Phil urged. “Who was he? What did he look like?”

“I do not know his name. He was an Indian seaman I met on the dock.”

Nathoo Keeka proceeded to give a detailed description of a man in a plaid work shirt who had set him on the trail of the Hardy boys.

“The sneaky character aboard ship!” Frank burst out. “The one who followed us around the
Nanda Kailash
and yanked that rope that tumbled Joe into the hold!”

“You mean he is an enemy of yours?” Nathoo asked in amazement. “He insisted that he had no interest in you personally. He was concerned, he said, about nothing except punishing you for the sacrilege you committed.”

“Why didn't he punish us himself?” Joe inquired.

“He told me he was not a Hindu.”

“Then why does he want to avenge a Hindu god?”

Nathoo Keeka looked troubled. He folded his hands across his chest. “I see that I have been grossly deceived. My profound apologies to both of you. It is fortunate that you stopped me. I shall offer no resistance if you wish to summon the police to take me to jail.”

The boys held a hurried consultation. Believing the story, they decided to be lenient with their unexpected visitor.

Frank spoke for the group. “Don't worry, Nathoo. Your explanation has convinced us that this is not a case for the police. Instead of prosecuting you, we'd like you to help us.”

“I will be glad to do anything you say.”

“The sailor who deceived you is a criminal. You don't want him to go free, do you?”

The seaman shook his head.

“Neither do we. But this thing is bigger than one man. A gang is involved, and we could use another hand to help break it up.”

Frank gave Nathoo a general account of the mercury thefts. The Indian quickly grasped the problem. “Mercury? My freighter often carried cargoes of it. I have helped load and unload the flasks many times. Not as easy as you might think. They are heavy.”

“That's right,” Joe agreed. “But they seem to lose their weight somewhere between the ship and their destination. That's why we would like your cooperation.”

“How? I am merely a sailor aboard the freighter. How can I possibly help solve an American crime?”

“We're not so sure that it's strictly American. Anyhow, we have to start at the spot where the stuff comes into the country. It would be extremely useful if you could keep us posted regarding events aboard ship, so we can follow the mercury from the moment it is being unloaded.”

Keeka seemed doubtful. “Wouldn't it be better to have the help of one of the officers?”

“Not at all,” Frank replied. “We need a man who can mingle with the crew and the workmen on the dock.”