The Mystery of Cabin Island (12 page)

The Hardys grinned and Frank said, “My brother Joe was holding a camera with a telescopic lens. From a distance it does resemble a rifle.”

“Ah,” said the man, “I see.” He smiled faintly. “I am seeking Mr. Elroy Jefferson.”

“I am he,” said Mr. Jefferson. “Just what is it you want?”

The stranger now stood up and took an official-looking red-and-gold diplomatic passport from inside his robe. With a slight bow, he showed it to Mr. Jefferson.

“I am Yussef ben Karim. I represent the ruler of my country—our great Shah Ali. I understand that among your valuable medals is one that was given many years ago to the Shah's grandfather. This medal is most prized by my master and he has authorized me to pay whatever sum is required to obtain it.”

Mr. Jefferson shook his head. “I'm sorry to say that I don't have your medal. I once owned it, but unfortunately my collection was stolen. I'm still searching for it.”

Yussef looked bewildered. “But I was given to understand that Mr. Hanleigh would have the medal for me.”

The boys and Mr. Jefferson exchanged startled looks. “What do you mean?” Mr. Jefferson asked.

“Mr. Hanleigh sent word to the Shah last summer saying that you had appointed him to act as your agent, and I was instructed to meet him here, which I did. You, sir, were not at home. Mr. Hanleigh first told me that he had the medal, but later he declared it was not in his hands—that he would have it soon. I beg you, what is the truth?”

“That's what we're trying to find out,” Frank interjected. “Yussef, that man Hanleigh was lying to you. For one thing, I'm quite sure he had no right to pose as Mr. Jefferson's agent—”

“He most certainly did not,” the elderly man stated emphatically as Frank turned to him for confirmation. “Hanleigh is the last man in the world whom I would entrust with such a matter, even if I still had the medals and wished to sell them.”

“What's more,” Frank added, “Hanleigh probably doesn't have the medals, either, and never did have them.”

Yussef's face registered concern. “I was afraid of that. The Shah will be grievously angered.”

Frank told Yussef that the boys were working on the mystery, and added, “My theory is that Hanleigh's scheme in contacting the Shah was to set up channels through which he could sell the medals—if he found them—without being prosecuted. We suspect Hanleigh has been searching for the collection on Cabin Island.”

“Tell me, Yussef,” Biff put in, “what were
you
doing on the island?”

The man said apologetically, “I am sorry. I did not intend to trespass. I had begun to suspect Mr. Hanleigh's story about the medal, and followed him there on two occasions. Like you, I could not escape the impression that he was seeking something hidden and wondered if it might be the Shah's medal.”

“And you looked for it yourself?” Frank asked.

“That is correct. But I had no success, and finally I deemed it wise to come directly to Mr. Jefferson.”

“How did you get to Cabin Island?” Chet asked.

“But of course, I walked,” Yussef replied with a smile. “I overheard Mr. Hanleigh talking with the two young men whom I have seen transporting him to the island in an ice-going craft.”

“Now you understand the whole situation, Yussef,” said Mr. Jefferson. “I agree with my young detective friends that Mr. Hanleigh evidently hopes to locate the medals for his own gain—including the one desired by your ruler.”

“It is a great misfortune to have lost so fine a treasure,” Yussef declared sympathetically, “and to be persecuted by an unscrupulous person such as Mr. Hanleigh.”

“At least we won't be off chasing ghosts!” Chet added a little sheepishly. “When I first saw you, I thought you were a spook!”

The foreign visitor laughed along with the others, then Frank said, “We'd better get back to the island and see how Joe's making out.”

Yussef's expression became somber. Gravely he said to Frank, “If your brother is alone there, you must hurry to him. I have a feeling he is in danger. Mr. Hanleigh can be violent.”

“We know it,” said Frank. “We'll leave right away.”

Meanwhile, Joe had left the cabin with the binoculars and was trudging toward the cliff, eager to test the theory that had been forming in his mind.

As he stepped from the shelter of the woods, the sunlight was dazzling on the snowy ground which led to the cliff edge. Beyond lay the frozen bay.

Joe's eyes sought the circle of tall stones he had seen from the roof. They stood near the edge of the cliff about fifty yards to his right. With a surge of excitement, he strode toward them. “Now—” he said to himself, “we'll see!”

Suddenly Joe stopped. Below, an iceboat was skimming across the inlet. He swung his binoculars up and trained them on the craft. Joe stiffened.

“The
Hawk!”
he muttered. “Ike, Tad, and Hanleigh!”

Quickly Joe made his way downhill and hid in a clump of bushes near the dock. He watched as the craft was guided ashore and tied up. The three paused close enough for Joe to hear Hanleigh say:

“You punks keep an eye out for the Hardys and their pals. Give a shout if you see anyone coming.” Then the man started toward the cabin.

Joe waited until Ike and Tad had walked off down the shore, then returned noiselessly up the slope. Cautiously he peered into the living room of the cabin—no one was there. Joe hurried to the rear and crouched among some bushes below the window of the Hardys' bedroom. He raised his head and peered in.

Hanleigh was rummaging through the brothers' belongings! “Bet he's looking for the notebook,” Joe thought. “Good thing Frank has it with him.”

Suddenly Hanleigh spun around and Joe ducked. He heard the man's outraged bellow. “Spying again, are you!”

“How did Hanleigh spot me?” Joe thought desperately, crouched low amidst the bushes. Moments later, the kitchen door opened and footsteps scrunched toward him on the snow.

To Joe's surprised relief, the big man strode past his hiding place and disappeared around the side of the cabin. Before Joe could move, Hanleigh's angry voice rang out.

“Couldn't resist snooping, could you?” he snarled. “I haven't paid you two just for taxi service—I've been paying you to mind your own business.”

Ike Nash and Tad Carson
!

Joe smiled wryly. “They must have been looking through that little end window in my bedroom.”

Ike's whining voice came to his ears. “We were freezing! There's a fierce wind off the ice.”

“That's a real shame!” Hanleigh retorted. “You fellows come with me. I'll show you a place to keep warm!”

The three rounded the corner and Joe held his breath as they plodded past him. He poked his head from the bushes in time to see Hanleigh open the woodshed. “Wait in there!” he ordered.

Unsuspecting, the two roughnecks stepped inside. Hanleigh pushed the door shut and bolted it. “I'll take good care of the
Hawk
for you!” he sang out tauntingly.

From within the shed came angry yells as Ike and Tad pounded violently on the door. Chortling, Hanleigh turned toward the kitchen.

“Let us out of here!” Ike screamed.

“You don't know how to run the iceboat!” Tad cried frantically.

“Oh, stop your chatter!” Hanleigh shouted. “I won't wreck it! Do you think I'd take a chance with my own skin?”

Again the two prisoners pounded and kicked at the door. “You got no right to hold us!” Ike yelled. Hanleigh paid no attention.

Joe came to a sudden decision. “I must hold Hanleigh here until the others get back!”

The young sleuth stood up resolutely and called out, “So you're trespassing again, Mr. Hanleigh!”

The man gave a start. Upon seeing Joe, his face contorted in rage. “You meddling spy!” he shouted. “I'm not trespassing. I came after my own property! Get out of my way!”

Joe walked up to Hanleigh and asked calmly, “Did you lose a notebook? One that has John Sparewell's name inside?”

Again Hanleigh started guiltily. “I don't know anything about a notebook,” he replied sullenly. “I came for my wallet. I lost it last time I was here. You probably found it, and you'd better turn it over or I'll have the law on you!”

“Did the message in code tell you to come looking for something valuable on Cabin Island?” Joe persisted.

Hanleigh swung his fist. Joe ducked and butted the man hard in the chest. With a grunt Hanleigh staggered back against the cabin.

“You're a scrapper, eh?” he panted.

“Anything you start, I'll finish,” Joe said. He watched the man warily, but Hanleigh only gave an ugly smile. “I'll fix you later,” he said softly. “No use hanging around now.”

He turned and plunged down the hill. Joe followed, keeping an eye on him. At the dock Hanleigh untied the
Hawk
and sped for the inlet.

“Too bad I couldn't hold him here,” Joe thought. Then he remembered Ike and Tad in the woodshed, and grinned. “But I still have his buddies!”

He headed quickly up the hill toward the cliff. At the top Joe looked down, but could see no sign of the
Hawk.
“Hanleigh made good time,” he said to himself, then the young detective's thoughts returned to the cluster of stones he wanted to investigate.

When Joe reached the spot, he quickly circled the tall rocks and spotted a narrow opening between two of them. He stepped through and found himself on a small patch of rocky ground, damp with melted snow. He knelt and felt the stones. They were warm! From several crevices arose wisps of smoke.

“Somebody has built a fire below,” he murmured. “Clever! Nobody'd ever notice the smoke.”

The thin streams drifting to the top disappeared in the wind.

The next moment Joe heard a noise and a soft laugh behind him. For an instant he froze.
Hanleigh!
Too late the boy flung himself sideways. A hard blow landed on the back of his head. He sank into darkness!

When Joe regained consciousness, he was first aware of the intense cold and of a throbbing sensation in the back of his head. His aching eyes saw a low roof of snow above him. Then he realized his wrists and ankles were tightly bound.

“Hanleigh!” Joe thought. “Where is he?”

The big man was nowhere in sight. Joe struggled to free himself, but every movement tightened the stout cords.

“Boy, what a mess!” Joe muttered in disgust. “I'll just have to wait until Frank and the others come back.” He noticed that his feet and hands were growing numb, but managed to wiggle his toes and fingers. “I'll have a swell case of frostbite if they don't show up soon.”

At that moment Frank, Chet, and Biff were streaking toward the inlet in the
Sea Gull.
Suddenly Chet pointed. “Look!”

Out of the narrow channel sped an iceboat with a lone occupant at the tiller.

“Hanleigh!” Frank exclaimed. “I wonder what happened to Ike and Tad!” A chill went through him. “And what about Joe?”

“Let's go after Hanleigh!” Biff cried out.

Frank shook his head. “We should get to the island pronto. Something's fishy about this whole business. Joe may be in danger.”

In a short time the
Sea Gull
was tied up, and the three boys hurried straight up the slope to the cabin.

Frank threw open the door. “Joe!” he called anxiously. “Hey, Joe!”

There was no answer.

“Listen!” Chet exclaimed. Loud bangings and scufflings could be heard.

“Joe might be locked in the attic!” Biff said. They all rushed into the kitchen, then paused in confusion.

“Not the attic,” Frank said. “Those sounds are coming from the woodshed!”

The others followed as he dashed outside and unbolted the door of the lean-to. “Joe—” he began, then stopped abruptly as Ike and Tad half stumbled into the open.

“What are you two doing here?” Biff demanded in amazement.

“Where's Joe?” Chet asked.

“Joe?” Tad snapped. “Where's Hanleigh? And the
Hawk?”

“Yeah!” Ike put in. “That guy's a dirty double crosser. He tricked us into this icebox and locked us up.”

“Right now Hanleigh's taking off in your boat,” Frank told them, then added sternly, “Never mind about him. What happened to my brother?”

“Don't look at us—we never saw him!” Tad replied. “We thought you were all away from the island.”

“After Hanleigh trapped us in that shed, we don't know what he did,” Ike added, whining. “We just kept banging and yelling.”

“Maybe you'll be more careful what kind of people you take up with after this,” Chet said. “And think twice about causing boat accidents, too.”

“Aw, cut the lecture, fatso,” Ike sneered.

Frank turned to Biff and Chet. “I'm going to find Joe. Something's happened to him. You take those two inside, and don't let them go. I want to question them later.”

“You think Joe is in danger?” Chet asked fearfully.

Frank looked worried. “I'm afraid so. It's a big island,” he added grimly. “I hope we're not too late.”

“JOE!” Frank called repeatedly as he slowly circled the island searching for his brother. The young sleuth had nearly reached the cliff when his shouts were answered by a faint cry.

“Here! Over here!” Then silence.