The Secret of the Caves (2 page)

Read The Secret of the Caves Online

Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

“A new neighbor?” Biff whispered, grinning.
“I've never seen her before,” Joe said.
The girl, heels clicking, hastened to the Hardys' front walk. There she stopped suddenly, turned toward the boys, and took a few steps forward.
Chet gave a low whistle and rolled his eyes. The girl, although she had a pretty face, wore a sad, worried look. “I would like to speak to the detective,” she said nervously.
Joe's face brightened. “My brother Frank and I are detectives,” he replied. “May we help you?”
“Don't mock me,” said the girl, and her lower lip quivered.
Frank and Joe were taken aback. But they were even more nonplused when their caller suddenly burst into tears!
CHAPTER II
Over the Fence
“HEY, wait a minute!” Joe blurted. “Don't cry!” But tears continued to course down the girl's face.
As the boys looked on in embarrassed silence, Mrs. Hardy hurried out of the door, followed by her husband.
“Goodness gracious!” exclaimed Laura Hardy, a slim, good-looking woman. She hastened to the girl and put an arm about her shoulder. “Come inside, dear. Perhaps we can help you.”
Frank whispered to Chet and Biff, “Wait here until we find what this is all about.”
Mrs. Hardy sat on the living-room sofa beside the young caller. The girl dried her eyes and announced that her name was Mary Todd. She sobbed once more and said, “My father was a friend of yours, Mr. Hardy.”
“Oh, yes. George Todd of the Redding Machine Company. A fine man. I haven't seen him for years.”
“Well, Dad passed away, and Mother, too,” the girl said.
The Hardys all expressed sympathy. Then Mary explained, “That's not why I'm crying, though. It's about my brother.”
Mr. Hardy leaned forward in his chair and said, “His name is Morgan, isn't it? As I recall, a very bright boy. A little older than my sons.”
Bravely fighting back tears, Mary told the Hardys that her brother, Morgan Thomas Todd, an instructor of foreign affairs at Kenworthy College, had disappeared.
“And I want you to find him, Mr. Hardy,” Mary said pleadingly. “The police are working on the case, but have discovered no leads.”
The girl explained that she was a freshman at Kenworthy College, which had just ended the spring semester. Her plan had been to spend the summer with relatives on the West Coast, but since her brother had disappeared several days before, she had canceled her trip and come to Bayport.
“I just don't know what to do, Mr. Hardy,” she said. “Please help me.”
Frank and Joe looked at their father. What would his decision be? He thought for a moment before speaking. “As I recall, your brother spent some time studying political methods in a foreign country.”
“Yes, he did,” Mary said, and mentioned the nation, which was unfriendly to the United States. She added that while he was there, Morgan Todd had suffered a fall and injured his head. “He seemed all right when he came back, but now I'm afraid he's lost his memory and just wandered away from the college.”
“You mean as the result of his fall?” Mrs. Hardy asked.
“Yes. Sort of a delayed reaction.”
“Fenton, I hope you take the case,” Mrs. Hardy said earnestly.
The detective now gave Mary a reassuring smile. “Of course I will.” He turned to Frank and Joe. “You know I have already accepted an important case, but if you boys pitch in, I can also undertake the search for Morgan.”
“Dad, you know we will!” Joe said eagerly.
Mary Todd's face brightened. “Oh, thank you, thank you,” she said. “Boys, please forgive me for being such a crybaby.”
“That's all right,” Joe replied, a little embarrassed.
“Sure,” Frank put in. “I don't blame you. Maybe we acted a little too smart. Have you a picture of your brother?” he added.
Mary took a snapshot from her purse and gave it to Frank. “Just don't lose it,” she said, smiling. Then she rose to bid them good-by. “I'll be staying at the Bayport Hotel,” she said.
At that moment the doorbell rang. Mrs. Hardy answered it and an attractive dark-haired girl walked in. She was Iola Morton, Chet's sister, who was a schoolmate of the Hardys and a particular favorite of Joe's.
“Hello, Iola,” Joe said, reddening slightly.
Then Frank said, “Iola, this is Mary Todd.”
The two girls smiled and exchanged greetings. Then Iola said, “Joe, what did you and Frank do to my poor brother? He's simply crushed that you two won't go treasure hunting at Honeycomb Caves.”
“You can guess what the reason is,” Frank said.
Iola giggled. “A mystery?”
Frank and Joe, after a nod of approval from their father, told her about Mary Todd's problem.
“Oh, you poor dear,” Iola said kindly. Her eyes sparkled. “I have an idea! Suppose you stay at our home until Mr. Hardy and the boys find your brother.”
“Oh, I couldn't impose.”
“You don't know my mother,” Iola said. “She'll insist that you stay. I hope you don't mind being a little ways out in the country. We live on a farm.”
“I'd really love it,” Mary said. “You're all so wonderful to me.”
The two girls left the house together. Frank and Joe followed and quickly briefed Chet and Biff on the missing instructor.
“Another mystery! That settles it!” Chet exclaimed. He turned to the Hardys and said gravely, “Gentlemen, the Hooper-Morton treasure expedition will be forced to take off without you.”
“Come on, Chet,” Iola ordered. “Get that old jalopy of yours running, destination Bayport Hotel.”
“What for?” her brother asked, putting his metal detector in the back of the car.
When Iola told about their new guest, Chet opened the door gallantly with a bow. “The two of you can squeeze into the front seat with me,” he said, then gave Biff a big wink and murmured, “Some guys have all the luck.”
“That's you, pal.” Biff laughed.
At the dinner table that evening Frank and Joe discussed with their father what steps to take first in both mysteries. The brothers, it was decided, would leave the next day for Kenworthy College, in upper New York State. It was located in a town of the same name, about a six-hour drive away.
“And now getting back to my case at the radar site,” Mr. Hardy said, “I'll show you around the place tonight.”
“Great!” Joe exclaimed eagerly.
Ever since the brothers had been old enough to engage in sleuthing, there had been a great camaraderie among the Hardy “menfolk,” as Laura Hardy referred to them. Frank and Joe had first demonstrated their detective ability in an adventure known as
The Tower Treasure.
Their most recent challenge was
The Shore Road Mystery.
By now, crime detection had become the boys' chief avocation.
The three left the house and Frank backed the boys' car down the driveway. The vehicle was old but well kept by the brothers, who preferred it to their father's late-model sedan.
Frank drove five miles north of town to an elevated spot overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, and directly below, Barmet Bay.
From the road, they could see Bayport hugging the coast with its many docks stretching like dark fingers into the bay. Frank drove for half a mile farther. Now the road was bordered by a high steel-mesh fence. Presently he stopped in front of a gate guarded by two uniformed men. Mr. Hardy got out and showed his badge, then introduced his sons to the guards. “I'd like to show the boys around,” he said.
“Okay, Mr. Hardy,” one of the guards replied, saluting.
The three Hardys tramped along a wooded lane which snaked upward to the top of Telescope HilL
“Little did the old pioneers know that their telescope lookout would be used for this giant radar,” Frank said as they approached the summit.
Here the trees had been felled, and the area was covered with heavy construction equipment and piles of steel framework. Already, the radar tower had risen more than a hundred feet into the air, its girders sticking up weirdly into the evening sky.
“Looks like nobody's around,” Joe said, glancing about. “Sure is quiet.”
“Don't be fooled,” Mr. Hardy told him. “There's a large corps of watchmen on duty.”
“Still, it's a pretty big place to be patrolled one hundred percent efficiently, isn't it, Dad?” Joe asked.
“You're right.”
Just then another uniformed guard walked quietly past the construction equipment twenty yards from them. “Evening, Mr. Hardy,” the man said.
“Evening, Bill.” Fenton Hardy returned his salute, then walked on with his sons. They encountered three more guards before they bad circled the hilltop.
Each man was immediately recognized by the detective, although he had met the entire staff only that morning.
On the way back to the gate, Frank left the lane. Walking waist-high through weeds and brush, he observed the fence. “I wonder if they're planning to electrify the fence?” he called out to his father.
Before Mr. Hardy could answer, Frank was startled by rustling noises. A dim figure rose up from the brush about ten feet away. Stealthily as a cat, a man raced to the fence.
“Stop!” Frank yelled and sprinted after him. The fellow clawed his way to the top of the steel mesh and leaped down with the agility of a panther. He hit the ground with a thud on the other side and bounded off into the woods. Mr. Hardy and Joe dashed to Frank's side.
“Jumpin' catfish!” Joe declared. “You've already flushed one of the spy pack.”
“I hope not for good,” Frank said. “I'd rather have grabbed him.”
Suddenly his eye was caught by an object snagged on a bush. Frank plucked it off and triumphantly held out an odd-looking cap. “We've got a clue, anyhow.”
The trio examined the cap. It was dark red with a small green peak. There was no label inside.
“I've never seen one like this,” Joe commented. “It could be an import.”
“Good guess,” Frank agreed.
It was growing dark, so Mr. Hardy voted against pursuing the intruder. He kept the cap, however, for more careful study.
Next morning Frank and Joe were up early. They hastily packed for the trip to Kenworthy College, then had breakfast with their parents.
“You have a plan mapped out, boys?” Mr. Hardy asked.
Frank nodded and laid down his fork. “We'll see the police and the dean, then get permission to examine Morgan Todd's quarters.”
“Check carefully on any close associates he might have had,” Mr. Hardy advised.
“And do be careful,” Mrs. Hardy added. “Of course, I know you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourselves.”
“You can say that again, Laura,” Mr. Hardy remarked as a smile crinkled his eyes.
Joe checked the gas and oil in their car while Frank loaded the baggage into the trunk. “All set.”
“Okay.” Joe took the wheel and zigzagged through the Bayport streets until they came to the highway which led directly west. Early-morning traffic was light, consisting mainly of large trucks heading east toward the radar construction.
The road, level at first, rose in a long curve toward the top of a hill, three miles out of town.
Joe kept far to the right side as a truck crested the hill and headed down. It was pulling a long flatbed trailer, on top of which was balanced a huge crane.
As it approached, Frank suddenly cried out, “Joe ... the trailer ... it's cut loose!”
The flatbed veered toward the center of the road on a collision course with the Hardys' car.
Joe tried desperately to swerve out of its way. To make matters worse, the huge crane began to topple over.
“Look out!” Frank cried in warning.
CHAPTER III
Bouncy Quill
FRANTICALLY Joe looked about for a way to dodge the runaway trailer. He spied a small turnout and spun his wheel sharply. But before he could reach that haven, the crane hit the top of the Hardys' car with a ripping crash!
Joe clutched the wheel as the car swerved and shuddered, finally coming to rest on the dirt shoulder. Both boys glanced back. The huge crane lay twisted in a ditch, the flatbed trailer alongside on its back. Frank and Joe hopped out to look at the damage.
“Wow! Look at this. Pretty close!” Frank said, pointing to a long jagged cut in the roof of the car.
A quarter mile down the hill, the truck driver had stopped his vehicle and walked back. He came up to the Hardys and the three talked over the strange accident. As they surveyed the broken crane, and the trailer with upturned wheels still spinning, the truck driver said glumly, “More bad luck. We're really getting it on this radar job!”
“What do you mean?” Frank asked. “Have things like this happened before?”
The driver hooked his thumbs into his suspenders and gave a low whistle. “Happened before! I'll say!” He told the boys that in three days this was the third accident to heavy equipment bound for the radar project.
“So now I've got to make out more papers and reports for the construction company,” the driver said, as if this were even more difficult than driving his unwieldy rig.
Joe took out his wallet. “We have to report to our insurance company,” he said. “They'll take care of everything.”
After Joe and the trucker had exchanged information, the boys set off again. As they drove along the highway, the Hardys speculated on the unusual accident. Was this a case of sabotage? Did it have anything to do with their father's assignment, or the intruder they had seen the night before?

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