Carrying both coils with him, Frank jumped into the raft and began paddling toward shore, feeding out lengths of rope behind him. The raft pitched violently in all directions. Then suddenly a towering wave crashed over the young detective. The paddle was yanked from his hand and the raft turned over.
“Frank!
Frank!”
shouted Joe.
Suddenly his brother's head bobbed up in the tossing sea. He still clung to one of the ropes. Joe and the others grabbed it at their end and began hauling him in. As Frank neared the hull, another wave hit and slammed him against the plane. Although dazed by the blow, he continued to cling to the rope. Finally he was hauled aboard. They all climbed back inside the airplane.
“Good try, Frank!” said Kurt Lerner.
“Too bad I got swamped.”
“What'll we do now?” Joe asked as he felt the plane lurch hard against the anchor ropes.
“I have an idea!” said Jerry. “It's our last chance!”
Scrambling forward, he strapped himself into the pilot's seat. There he pumped the throttles a few times, worked the fuel primers, and turned on the engine ignition switches.
“What are you going to do?” Frank asked.
“Try to meet the storm on its own terms!” Jerry said grimly. “If we can get started, I can head into the wind and try to ride it out!”
He engaged the engine starters. The propellers turned slowly, but the engines failed to respond.
At that instant a series of massive waves spilled over the plane. The craft heaved violently, snapping first one anchor rope, then the other. The plane began to drift rapidly toward the jagged rocks on shore.
Jerry continued to work the starters, but the engines would not respond! “The ignition harnesses must be wet!” the pilot's voice held a note of helplessness.
Chet looked out. The rocks were getting closer! “We'll be smashed to pieces!” he yelled, taking a deep breath.
Frank rushed forward and climbed into the seat beside Jerry's. Frantically he tried to help with the starting procedure.
“We'd better get ready to jump overboard!” Jerry declared as he glanced at the deadly rocks looming up in front of his window.
Frank and Jerry continued to work the throttles and engage the starters. Suddenly the right engine backfired a few times, then burst into life.
Using the one engine, Jerry swung the plane around and headed into the wind and oncoming waves. By applying full power, he was able to halt the craft's drift toward the rocks.
“That was close!” Frank said, sighing in relief.
“We're not out of this yet,” Jerry said. “With only one engine running, we have to apply so much power to hold our position that we're likely to burn out the motor!”
He again tried starting the left engine. Finally his persistence paid off. The engine backfired once, then roared in response.
Jerry eased the throttles ahead and pulled still farther away from the rocks. He reduced power sufficiently to hold their position, yet prevent the engines from overheating.
“Great job!” said Frank, and Jerry gave a wry smile.
The waves continued to batter the plane. Water seeped in through seams around the windows and the door, making it necessary for the occupants to bail constantly.
“How can the plane take this pounding?” Frank asked.
“It's a strong ship,” Jerry answered. “Also, the fact that we're in a cove is helping to take some of the kick out of the waves.”
The wind and the rain continued to rage. Jerry glanced at the fuel gauges.
“If this storm doesn't end soon,” he observed gloomily, “we'll run out of fuel. Then we'll really be in trouble!”
Gradually, however, the rain and gusts of wind seemed to diminish in activity.
“I think the storm is moving off!” Joe said happily.
“You're right,” Jerry agreed.
As night fell, the rain stopped and the wind subsided to a gentle breeze. Switching on the plane's bright landing lights, the pilot carefully taxied to a narrow part of the cove. Retrieving the rope which they had attached to the bow of the plane, Frank and Joe swam ashore and tied the end around a rock. Meanwhile, Lerner and Vogel had tied the stern line to another rock at the opposite side of the cove.
Satisfied that the airplane was now secure, the whole group fell exhausted on the beach and slept soundly through the remainder of the night.
The next day, after a breakfast from the plane's store of provisions, Jerry began an examination of the craft for damage. The Hardys, with Chet, Lerner, and Vogel, set out to collect the drums of aviation gasoline. It was long, arduous work. Each of the drums had to be rolled through the brush to the shore of the cove, loaded onto the raft, which had washed ashore undamaged, then ferried to the plane. There the contents were emptied into the fuel tanks.
It was late afternoon before the refueling operation was completed. The boys then made a quick tour of the small island, but found no one hiding there. Jerry, meanwhile, had examined every inch of the plane and reported it to be airworthy.
“I suggest we take off immediately, while we still have some daylight,” he said.
Soon they were airborne again, headed for Montana. They flew throughout the night. Shortly after daybreak, Jerry landed once to refuel, then set off again. By late morning he announced that they were over Montana.
“I'll head for the area indicated on that chart you boys found on the island,” said the pilot.
When they reached it, he established a search pattern by maneuvering the aircraft into a series of weaving courses. The boys looked with fascination at the twisting valleys and rivers below. Mountains jutted up all around them.
“Exactly what is it we're looking for?” Chet questioned.
“The gang's hideout would have to be near a long, level stretch of ground which could serve as a runway,” Frank answered. “This particular area is rugged, so there can't be too many spots for landing.”
Jerry applied more power and climbed to a higher altitude to clear some of the lower mountains. He continued the search pattern.
“It's like looking for a needle in a haystack,” Chet mumbled.
“Wait a minute,” said Frank. “Let's take a closer look at that spot over there.” He pointed slightly to his right.
Jerry rolled into a turn and straightened out in the direction Frank had indicated.
“See the timber line on the side of that mountain ahead?” Frank asked. “There's a stretch of level ground right above it.”
“I see it!” Joe exclaimed. “And say, there's a shack in a clearing in those woods about half a mile away.”
The pilot also sighted the spot. He maneuvered the plane closer to the level area.
“What do you think?” Frank asked Jerry.
“It's level enough and plenty long for a landing. I'd say it would make an ideal runway. And that grove of trees at the far end would be a perfect hiding place for an airplane.”
Frank suggested that they land and investigate the area. Jerry headed the plane down and flew at a height of less than a hundred feet above the ground.
“The surface looks smooth,” he said. “I'm going to swing around and make a long approach for a landing.”
He rolled the plane into a turn and then lined it up with the level stretch of ground, reduced power, extended the landing gear, and lowered full flaps. The craft touched down smoothly and rolled to a stop with plenty of room to spare. Jerry taxied toward the grove of trees, shut off the engines, and parked. The Hardys, followed by the others, got out and glanced around at the hard, bare ground.
“It doesn't look as if anyone has been here before,” Frank remarked glumly.
“I guess we're just on a wild-goose chase,” Joe said with a frown.
“Hey, fellows!” yelled Chet, who had been reconnoitering an area that sloped away from the grove of trees where the ground was softer.
Frank and Joe rushed over to their chum.
“Look!” Chet said, pointing at the ground. “Footprints!”
All the boys examined the tracks closely. The heavy impressions of a man's shoes were clear, and led down the slope. “The prints were made recently!” Joe concluded.
Excitedly the young detectives followed the trail of prints. Lerner and Vogel tagged along a short distance behind. Jerry Madden remained with the plane.
Suddenly Frank stopped and gazed straight ahead. He gestured for everyone to be quiet. Through the trees they could see a small shack.
Motioning Joe to follow him, Frank began to creep toward it. Reaching the shack, the boys peered through a knothole in the wall. What they saw startled them. Seated inside were Lance Peterson and Aaron Lieberl Tensely the Hardys each pressed an ear to the wall in hopes of overhearing the men's conversation.
“Why should we divide the loot equally?” the boys heard Lieber growl. “We did most of the work.”
“We'll only divvy up what we've already unpacked,” Peterson replied. “The stuff we buried in the old dry well won't be missed by the others. We'll keep that for ourselves.”
“The rest of the guys ought to be flying in soon,” Lieber said.
This remark startled and worried the boys. They must hurry to capture these men before the new arrivals might capture the Hardys and their companions!
When the brothers reported what they had heard, Lerner and Vogel offered to rush the place and seize Peterson and Lieber.
Frank did not agree. “They may be armed,” he said. “By the time we broke into the shack, they'd have a chance to use their weapons. Let's get them to come outside.”
“How?” Joe asked.
Frank grinned at his brother, then turned to Chet. “Here's your chance to play ghost.”
Chet and the Hardys hid behind some brush located a short distance from the shack. Vogel and Lerner took up concealed positions nearby.
“Okay.” Frank quickly whispered something to his stout friend. “You're on.”
Chet cleared his throat, then called out in deep, eerie tones:
“This is the ghost of Clint Hill! You cannot escape a man that you have killed!”
A second later Peterson and Lieber bolted from the shack. Terror-stricken, they looked around.
“The ghost! It's the ghost!” Peterson screamed. “We've got to get away!”
Lerner and Vogel sprang out from a bush. Leaping on the two thieves, they quickly overpowered them.
“Whatâwhat's going on?” Lieber shouted, dumfounded.
The captured men were even more startled to see the Hardys striding toward them.
“What are you two doing here?” Lieber yelled.
“How did you find us?” blurted Peterson. “And where's the ghost?”
“Never mind,” said Frank. “Who else is in the gang with you?”
“We're not talking,” growled Lieber.
“If you won't tell us, we'll find out anyway,” said Frank. “Bush Barney and Anchor are in jail. We know some more of your pals are due here shortly.”
The prisoners glanced at each other apprehensively. They were herded into the shack, seated in chairs, and their hands tied firmly behind their backs.
Frank said that he and Joe would guard the two captives. He instructed Lerner, Vogel, and Chet to go back and warn Jerry that more members of the gang were flying in.
“Make sure our own plane is hidden,” Frank commanded. “Then wait there and nab whoever arrives.”
Alone with Peterson and his henchman, the Hardys began to question them. Peterson offered to make a deal, but the boys refused to listen. The only concession Frank would make was that it might go easier for the men if they would cooperate.
That seemed to make up Peterson's mind. “I can give you a complete list of everybody who's in this with us,” he said, “and how the whole operation worked. You'll find it all in that metal box up there on the top shelf.” He nodded toward the opposite end of the room.
Frank walked over to the shelf Peterson had indicated. He looked up at the box. It was not very large, but difficult to reach.
“I'll give you a hand,” Joe said, coming over.
They stepped closer and began lifting the box. The next instant there was a click, and suddenly the floor beneath their feet gave way! A trap door! The boys plunged helplessly into a dark hole. Landing with a thud on soft ground some ten feet below, the Hardys scrambled up just as the door slammed shut above them. At once they became aware of a hissing sound in the darkness.
“What's that odor?” Joe asked frantically.
“It must be some kind of gas, Joe!”
In the room above they heard the two men break into raucous laughter. As the hissing sound continued, the boys realized with horror that they were losing consciousness!
CHAPTER XX
Runway Victory
MEANWHILE, Chet and the two men had arrived back at the plane. Jerry was amazed to hear that Peterson and Lieber had been captured.
“And more members of the gang are expected to land here at any time,” Chet added. “Frank says to hide the plane.”
“We'd better push it under the trees,” Jerry said.
Together, they rolled the aircraft deep into the little grove. Then they watched the sky and waited.
“I hope there aren't too many of them,” Chet said nervously.
Nearly an hour passed before the droning sound of an airplane was heard in the distance.
“There it is!” Jerry shouted. “Let's take cover!”
They watched the craft as it circled and headed in for a landing. The pilot set the plane down gently, then taxied toward the grove. The plane came to a stop and three men climbed out.