The Sinister Signpost (10 page)

Frank quickly obtained a map of Vermont. He then asked the attorney to describe where Fowler's land was located. Benson stated that it was just west of Highway 15, twelve miles north of the town of Haversville.

After Frank had hung up, he said, “I'll bet Fowler-Dodson has gone to his cabin!”

“It would be a perfect place to hide out with Topnotch,” Joe agreed. “But wouldn't he be taking a big chance? After all, he told Mr. Benson where his land was located.”

“Dodson might be hoping the attorney forgot about it, or wouldn't think it important enough to mention,” Mr. Hardy said.

“How about requesting the police up there to check the area?” Frank spoke up. “It's been more than fourteen hours since we last saw Dodson. He could easily be in Vermont by now.”

Mr. Hardy telephoned Chief Collig again. Two hours passed before the Bayport officer called back.

“A couple of officers searched the cabin and some of the surrounding land,” he informed the detective. “Afraid you're out of luck. They found nothing.”

“Thanks, Chief,” Mr. Hardy replied. “By the way, our suspect would have to transport Topnotch in a horse van. Would you send out an alarm to have all such vehicles—spotted within a six- or seven-hundred-mile radius—stopped and inspected? Although I'm sure it's too late for that now.”

“I'll do it, anyway,” the chief assured him.

“Guess we've run into another blank wall,” Joe muttered.

“Not necessarily,” Frank commented. He snapped his fingers. “Let's go to Vermont and take a look ourselves. Dodson's pretty clever. He certainly wouldn't keep Topnotch there at the cabin. It's possible he's hiding somewhere nearby.”

“I'm with you,” his brother said.

“Go to it,” Mr. Hardy told them. “I'll have to stay behind and sit it out with Mr. Alden. Remember! Noon tomorrow is the deadline for him to pay the ransom.”

The boys alerted Jack Wayne for another flight the next morning. After an early breakfast, they drove to the airport and boarded the plane.

“Flight time should be approximately two and a half hours,” the pilot announced. “The nearest field is about twenty miles from where you want to go.”

Jack's estimated time to their destination proved to be correct. After landing, the Hardys arranged to rent a car.

“You stick close to the phone here in operations,” Frank instructed Jack. “If you don't hear from us in two hours, notify the police.”

“Roger,” Jack replied. “Good luck!”

Soon Frank and Joe were driving north on Highway 15. When they were twelve miles north of Haversville, they spotted a crude fence a few yards west of the road. On it was a large sign which read:

“This must be Dodson's land,” Joe concluded.

Frank turned the car onto a narrow, dirt trail which jutted off the highway. After traveling a short distance he brought it to a stop.

“We'd better continue on foot,” he advised.

The Hardys picked their way through an area of dense woods and brush. Soon they came to a small clearing.

“There's the cabin!” Joe declared, pointing to a dilapidated log structure directly ahead.

“Let's watch it from here for a while,” Frank said. “There might be someone inside.”

Half an hour went by. There was no sign of life, and the only sound was that of the wind rustling through the trees.

“I think it's safe to go in,” Joe remarked impatiently.

“Okay. Let's go!”

They skirted the clearing and approached the cabin from the rear. When they reached it, Frank cautiously peered through a window.

“The place is empty except for a couple of pieces of furniture,” he told his brother.

The boys walked around to the front of the cabin and climbed two steps to the porch.

“Careful,” Frank warned. “These planks are pretty creaky. Step lightly.”

The door of the cabin did not have a lock. The boys pushed it open and went inside. A wooden table stood in the middle of the floor with worn-out chairs set at each end. Suspended from the ceiling above the table was an old kerosene lamp.

Joe walked over to a cupboard mounted against the wall. He pulled open the door. “Look at this!” he exclaimed. “A supply of canned food!”

Frank inspected his brother's discovery. “These cans look as if they haven't been here long. No dust on them.”

Suddenly the boys heard the voices of men in the distance.

“Someone's coming!” Joe said excitedly. “Sounds as if they're approaching from the woods behind the cabin.”

“Let's get out of here!” Frank said.

The boys dashed through the door and across the clearing to the edge of the woods. They took cover in a clump of thick brush. A moment later three men appeared from around the corner of the cabin.

“That tall guy is the one I trailed from the restaurant in Clayton,” Joe whispered.

“And we met the short one at the Southern Pines Stables when we went to see Dodson,” Frank hissed.

Neither of the Hardys recognized the third man, who remarked, “Dodson would nail us to a wall if he knew we came to the cabin!”

“I'm hungry,” another said. “I can't wait till dark to get some of that canned food!”

The three men hurried into the log structure and slammed the door behind them.

“I'm going back and try to hear what they're saying,” Joe announced.

“It's too risky in daylight,” his brother warned.

But Joe was already on his way. Frank watched him scoot across the clearing and carefully step up onto the porch of the cabin.

Suddenly there was a loud cracking sound. Frank's pulse quickened. “Some of the planks are giving way underneath Joe!” he thought.

The next instant there was a crash as Joe fell through the porch floor up to his waist. Frank rushed to his aid. As he reached his brother, the three men spilled out of the cabin!

THERE was a violent struggle. Frank lashed out at one of the men and sent him hurtling back into the cabin. The remaining two pounced on the dark-haired youth.

“Run for it!” Joe shouted as he frantically tried to free himself from between the planks.

One of Frank's assailants caught him from behind with a headlock. The young detective flipped him high over his shoulder in judo fashion.

“Hold it!” came an order. Frank suddenly found himself staring into the face of Dodson, who patted a rear pocket significantly.

“Er—hi, Boss,” one of the men said nervously. “We came to get some canned food and caught a couple of snoopers.”

“What did I tell you guys about coming here in daylight?” Dodson yelled. He glared at the Hardys. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Trade secret,” Joe snapped as he finally worked himself free of the planks and rejoined his brother.

“These kids probably told somebody they were coming here!” Dodson said to his cohorts. “We'd better move the horse van to another hiding place.”

“But what about the ransom money?” said one of the men. “Kurt will be comin' here after he picks it up.”

Dodson looked at his watch. “It's early yet. He'll still be in his room at the hotel in Clayton.” He turned to the short, wiry man the boys had met at the Southern Pines Stables. “Beaver! Get to a telephone and call Kurt. Tell him to go ahead as planned, then to drive to the bus terminal in Haversville. We'll meet him there tonight.”

“Okay, Boss,” Beaver replied as he hurried off.

The boys were ordered to walk ahead of their captors.

“Where are you taking us?” Frank demanded.

“You two went to a lot of trouble to find Topnotch,” Dodson snarled. “I'm going to give you a chance to see him.”

The Hardys were marched along what appeared to be a very narrow trail through the woods. Actually they saw it was a wide, dirt road, cleverly covered with brush.

Soon the boys were ordered to halt. A huge mound of dried brush loomed in front of them. One of their captors pulled it aside.

“Why—it's a camouflage net,” Joe whispered to his brother.

“And it's covering a horse van,” Frank answered in a low voice.

“Shut up!” Dodson demanded. “Get inside!”

The boys walked up a ramp which formed the rear door of the van when closed. To the right in the back of the van was a small bedroom for the trainer. Ahead, another door with bars at the top opened into a stall. Inside was Topnotch who began to whinny at the disturbance.

Frank and Joe were roughly pushed into the van. A quick glimpse at the race horse revealed that his distinguishing white marks above the front hoofs had been dyed chestnut to match his coat.

“This animal,” Dodson remarked with a laugh, “has been living like a king. After all, he means fifty thousand dollars to me.”

“You won't get away with this!” Joe vowed.

“Who's going to stop me?” Dodson retorted. He then barked an order to his pals. “Tie these wise guys up!” His henchmen shoved the boys inside the small room and uncoiled lengths of rope.

“No use resisting,” Frank told Joe. He winked. “Just relax.” Joe nodded in response.

As they were being tied up, the boys took deep breaths and flexed their muscles hard. The men wound the ropes tightly around the boys' bodies, then they left with Dodson. The rear door was slammed shut.

Instantly the Hardys exhaled and relaxed their muscles. The ropes went slack and the boys had little difficulty freeing themselves.

“Thanks for reminding me to relax,” Joe said with a grin. “I had almost forgotten that old trick Dad taught us.”

“We're lucky Dodson's men don't know much about tying up prisoners,” Frank remarked.

A scraping sound outside told the boys that their captors were removing the camouflage net covering the van.

“They're getting ready to move,” Frank said. “We must get out of here fast!”

“Let's make a break for it! It's our only chance.”

The boys dashed from the small room, but were dismayed to find the door of the van locked.

“There's no other exit!” Joe said frantically.

“I have an idea!” Frank whispered. “We'll ride Topnotch out of here!”

“What! Through a locked door?”

“We'll force Dodson and his men to open it!”

“How?”

“By raising such a racket that they'll let down the door to investigate.”

The boys opened the door to the stall, patted the horse, who seemed to recognize them, then bridled him. Quickly they led Topnotch to within a few feet of the rear door.

“Hey!” came the voice of one of their captors. “Do you hear Topnotch movin' around?”

“Probably just restless,” Dodson replied. “He'll calm down.”

Frank leaned close to Joe. “All set?” he whispered.

His brother nodded, and the boys began pounding on the door with their fists.

“What's that?” they heard a man shout. “It's comin' from inside the van.”

“Maybe the kids got loose!” Dodson declared. “We'd better check. Quick! Open the door!”

The Hardys leaped onto Topnotch and flattened out on his back. As the ramp was pulled down, they nudged the race horse forward. He sprinted down the ramp, taking the men completely by surprise. Before they could recover, Topnotch had covered a hundred yards.

“They're getting away!” one of the men yelled.

Suddenly Topnotch stumbled and the Hardys were thrown to the ground. They scrambled to their feet just in time to see Dodson take a small object from his pocket and throw it toward them.

“Looks like a tear-gas bomb!” Frank yelled.

Joe darted ahead and caught the object, then tossed it back at their captors. On contact with the ground, the bomb exploded and engulfed Dodson and his henchmen in a thick, white cloud of smoke.

As the choking gas began to drift away, the boys, holding their breaths, pounced on them and wrestled the men into the van. They shut and locked the door.

Joe glanced around. “Where's Topnotch?”

“He ran off!” Frank said. “You stay on guard here. I'll go look for him.”

After a brief search Frank found the horse behind a clump of trees, entangled in heavy brush. He freed him and led the animal back to the van.

At that moment the Hardys were startled to hear their names called. “Frank! Joe! Where are you?”