The Crisscross Shadow (16 page)

The man looked sullen and did not reply.

“Don't believe a word of that fairy tale Kamp was telling you,” Fenton Hardy began. “He's no small-city attorney. He's the legal brains of a gang of saboteurs that has been terrorizing the country! But no longer. They've been rounded up.”

Frank and Joe grinned triumphantly. They had been right about the connection between their case and the one on which their father had been working.

“The gang wanted the Ramapans' property,” the detective continued, “to carry out a great plan. It's so secluded it would have made a wonderful hiding place for big-time saboteurs.

“Kamp, you hired a man named York to help you, but his real name is Philip Varry. He's a small-time crook.” Mr. Hardy paused to let this sink in. Then he went on:

“You got Varry to pose as Philip York, a missing heir to the Ramapan land.”

Kamp studied the floor for a moment, then he raised his eyes.

“I might as well tell you everything. We planned to have Varry force a sale of the property,” he said. “Whitestone refused to sell, so we had to take stronger measures.

“When we learned that the records had been burned and the Ramapans' deed was missing, I sent Varry up there to try to find it. Then you Hardy boys got involved in the case.”

“Did you send us the threatening note?” Frank asked.

“Yes.”

“And your men pushed us onto the railroad track?”

“That was our work. I had a friend of mine yell from the street to distract everyone's attention.”

“How did you know where we were going?” Frank asked the lawyer.

“I had someone shadowing you,” Kamp replied. “The morning you found the school closed he heard you talking about it. But we couldn't win.

“While Phil was in the Lantern Junction station, he stole a suitcase full of leather articles. He gave them to me, and when Breck came to make his report, I turned them over to him to use as a ruse to get into your house.”

“So he did steal the key and hand it over to you,” Joe said. “Where'd he hide it—in his mouth?”

“Yes, he gave it to me at police headquarters.”

“Why did you want to get into our house?” Frank asked.

“There were letters and other documents in your father's file cabinet that the saboteurs wanted. We could have broken in, of course, but that would have set the police on us at once.”

Frank told his father about the trick that had been played on them, and how puzzled they were by the voice.

“I can explain that,” Mr. Hardy said. “I was on the West Coast making an anticrime movie. Part of the recording was stolen.”

“Did the record say something about ‘You can't beat these men. Give up!' ” Joe asked excitedly.

His father smiled. “Yes, it did. The whole record went like this: ‘The American law enforcement agencies are the best in the world. You can't beat these men. Give up. Go home to your local communities and forget the idea that crime pays!'

“I didn't know who had stolen the recording, but you've solved that mystery too, boys. They played a vital part of the record to make you believe I was a captive. Thank goodness they didn't succeed in scaring you off the case!”

“The masquerade had us fooled for a while. We thought you were in two places at once,” Frank said.

“Well, when I heard about the photograph that had been stolen from our house, it was clear that someone made up to look like me was entering plants in order to sabotage them, so I went after him.

“I didn't want to be traced, so I swore the hotel clerk to secrecy, and also the detective you put on my trail. I couldn't afford to let anyone know my plans,” Fenton Hardy explained. “We can discuss the case at home, boys. Right now we'd better turn our prisoners over to the police.”

At dinner Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude listened eagerly to the outcome of the mystery.

“I told you right from the start Breck was a criminal!” Aunt Gertrude said smugly. “I've been working on that myself all this time.”

She went for her purse and produced a clipping several years old.

“The newspaper found this for me,” she said. “Breck's never been any good. Once he was sent to jail as a confidence man.”

“Nice evidence,” Joe said admiringly.

Miss Hardy was pleased by the compliment and was about to reply when the telephone rang. Frank answered. He listened a few moments. Then, after hanging up, he turned to the others:

“It was Chet. Joe, you and I are to go up to Lantern Junction tomorrow to testify against Breck and Varry.”

Joe grinned. “Never a dull moment.”

The boys phoned Jack Wayne and made arrangements for him to fly them. Upon arriving at Lantern Junction the next morning they went straight to court, where Chet met them. The hearing was in progress. Later the Hardys gave testimony which the prosecutor said would send the swindlers to prison for long terms. And their trial for sabotage was yet to come!

After the hearing, Ted invited the boys and Jack Wayne to a farewell dinner with the Ramapans. “A real Indian feast,” he promised. At the Whitestone house, he made an announcement.

“We understand Chet's great-grandfather, Ezekiel Morton, was an Indian agent here and was made honorary chief of the Pashunks who used to live nearby. We Ramapans want to honor young Chief Wallapatookunk, which we believe means
Eat-a-Whole-Moose.”

Everyone smiled.

“And now, Chet,” Ted continued, “we hope you won't have any trouble imitating your great-grandfather.”

A whole side of venison was carried in and set before Chet! Everyone in the room roared with laughter.

Frank and Joe were surrounded with gifts the Indians had presented in gratitude for their work in locating the deed and the jeweled dagger. The Hardys had never received a greater ovation for solving a mystery. But another was to come when they had concluded
The Yellow Feather Mystery.

“Well, I guess it's back to the old dull school and football for us now.” Chet sighed as he finished a third helping of venison.

“Dull? Football? Remember our defensive play 86X,” Joe reminded him.

“That play pulled us through a dangerous adventure,” Frank said. “Without it, the Ramapans might not be feasting us so happily tonight.”