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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

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BOOK: The Clue of the Screeching Owl

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“It's working!” Frank cried as he too stepped outside.

But at that very instant Joe was seized by powerful arms from behind. The snarls of the puma and the sound of the chain had warned the hijackers.

“Socky!” shouted Donner. “Get that other one!”

“Keep going, Frank!” Joe shouted.

One backward glance told Frank what was happening: Joe was going down under two attackers, another one coming for him. Desperately Frank rushed forward and hurled the ball of flame straight into the puma's snarling face. Maddened, the big cat turned tail and plunged for the freedom of the woods. Frank by now was sprinting at top speed in another direction. Socky emerged, hesitated, and started off in pursuit.

Meanwhile, Joe was slowly regaining consciousness after being dealt a stunning blow. His head throbbed. His wrists and ankles stung where ropes cut into the flesh. He was on the damp floor bound hand and foot.

“Now, what kind of âaccident' can we arrange for these two?” It was Donner speaking.

Opening his eyes, Joe saw that he had been moved to Captain Maguire's cell. The captain, also bound, lay above him on the cot. A hijacker stood over the two with a pistol, while Walter Donner, holding a lantern aloft in one hand, coolly plotted their murder.

“Perhaps a nice, hot fire that won't leave any evidence,” the gang leader suggested. “And we mustn't forget to include your brotherâif Socky gets to him before the puma does.”

“Hands up!” came a sudden, sharp command. “Drop that gun!”

Wheeling, Donner found himself covered by a Tommy gun. Two state troopers stood in the doorway where he and Webber had surprised the Hardys earlier!

As Donner's pistol clattered to the floor, he swung his lantern viciously at the nearest officer. There was a crash, and total darkness for a moment. In the confusion, the wily gang leader slipped down the passage to the puma's cage and dashed to freedom.

Frank, meanwhile, had kept sprinting through the woods. He weaved in and out, seeking always to keep some trees between himself and his pursuer. Now and then a pistol cracked behind him. A heavy bullet thumped into a tree, or ripped the leaves above his head.

Completely drenched from his flight through the wet underbrush, Frank reached the rocky side of the hollow and clambered upward. A bullet exploded in the rock beside him, sending painful splinters into his hand.

Realizing that he was too exposed on the open slope, in the pale light of early dawn, Frank ducked behind a big rock and waited.

As the burly Socky toiled upward in the gray light, Frank lunged toward him in a tremendous football tackle. The heavily built man went down with a crash, still clutching his revolver in one hand. Desperately Frank grabbed the man's wrist, knowing that control of the gun meant life or death.

Locked together, the two struggling bodies rolled down the steep slope, bouncing from one level to another. Finally Socky rolled on top, and raised his weapon. But at this moment a figure hurtled out of nowhere, knocking the hijacker's head against a stone and wresting the pistol from him all in one movement.

“Simon!” cried Frank joyously. “How'd youâ?”

But the mute boy only indicated by pointing upward that Frank should continue climbing.

“You're right, Simon. I must get help!” Once more, Frank clambered toward the road at the top. By now it was very light, though the sun had not risen. Frank, looking around, suddenly spotted a man not fifty yards above him going in the same direction. Walter Donner!

The gang leader turned. For a moment he and the young detective stared at each other. Frank set himself for another struggle. But, to his astonishment, Donner turned and began climbing upward again as fast as he could.

Calling on his muscles for one last all-out effort, Frank scrambled upward in pursuit.

In another minute Frank hauled himself onto a ledge. Now Donner's legs dangled just above him. Thinking of Chet, lying entangled in the wrecked car, Frank pulled the man down savagely. But a snarl from the ledge just above him, and a sudden terrified scream from Donner, checked his poised fist.

Instinctively Frank pressed both himself and his antagonist against the rock wall, as the two-hundred-pound body of the furious puma hurtled past within inches of their heads. Landing off balance, the beast skidded and tumbled rapidly downhill.

Donner jerked loose. But Frank quickly sent a swift punch to the man's midsection, following it up with a smashing blow to the jaw. “That's for Chet!” he panted as Donner slumped, unconscious.

“Hi! Up there!” came shouts from below.

Looking down, Frank saw the rocky slope swarming with state troopers. Three of them were throwing a net over the spitting, scrambling puma. Several others had almost reached Frank himself.

“Nice work, boy!” cried the first trooper to come up. “Donner nearly got away!”

Brushing aside congratulations, Frank asked urgently, “Is my brother Joe all right? Have you examined the auto wreck?”

The friendly trooper looked puzzled. “Joe Hardy? Sure, he's okay. But I don't know what wreck you're talking about.”

Quickly Frank scrambled back down to the valley floor. “I'll get Joe and we'llâwe'll look for Chet,” he thought, while jogging swiftly among the trees to Donner's cabin.

The door of the stone cabin was wide open. Frank dashed in, then stopped short in utter astonishment.

An appetizing aroma, the sizzle of bacon frying in a pan, the sound of happy voices all talking at once reached him from the kitchen. Frank opened his mouth and stood in speechless wonder.

Joe and Captain Maguire were standing by the secret door, laughing. Seated at the kitchen table were Simon and Fenton Hardy. And presiding over the stove, flipping pancakes vigorously into the air and talking loudly the whole time, was Chet Morton!

“Frank!” his father cried out. “So good to see you! I'm certainly glad this case is solved.”

“You knew?”

“One of the troopers sent a short-wave message you were safe and Donner captured.”

“But Chet ... What ... ? How ... ?” Frank stammered.

“Nothing to be amazed about,” said Chet as the others, grinning, made a place for Frank at the table. “Old Chet went for the police and brought 'em back, that's all!”

“But the smashed carâyou weren't in it?”

“Right! Just a little detective's trick.” The stout boy shrugged with attempted modesty. “I had a head start on that hijacker, so I hid the convertible in some trees near that jalopy we saw. I put in a blanket, set the old crate on fire, and shoved it over the bluff.”

Chet beamed. “Did it burn! That Socky thought I was in it. I waited till he'd gone, drove on down Rim Road without lights, and called the State Police from the first house with a phone. Told 'em to come ready for a wild animal as well as criminals. When they got here I showed the police the secret chute and the cabin. They did the rest, and rounded up all the crooks.”

“You're a real trooper for sure,” Frank said. “We couldn't solve a mystery without you.”

This proved to be true in the boys' next case,
THE VIKING SYMBOL MYSTERY.

“As for me,” Fenton Hardy took up the story, “I hurried over here from New Jersey right after I quizzed that pair you boys caught in the station wagon. Just by luck, I was at the State Police barracks when Chet's call came in.”

“This is the gang you've been after, then?” Frank asked.

“Sure is,” his father answered, “and they're all behind bars now. Webber's shoes matched the cast taken by Sheriff Eckerâso he confessed to setting the cabin on fire, hiding nearby, and seeing you boys escape. We found the cache of hijacked goods in two of the underground passages.

“Webber has also confessed to selling everything but the missile nose cones as property of fictitious companies which were going out of business. A clever racket he worked with an auctioneer in New York City.”

Joe added, “And he was holding up the settlement of the Donner estate until he and Walter had disposed of all the hijacked goods. The gang confessed they did take that hound dog, and kept it for their own use. Socky was the one who spied on us in the woods, and also on Webber. Donner didn't even trust his own men. By the way, William and his sister are innocent of any part in the racket.”

“Well, my job's over now,” concluded Mr. Hardy. “And you three boys did the major part of it for me. Which means you get the major share of the credit, and the major share of the reward money, too!”

“And they certainly deserve it!” Captain Maguire put in fervently.

“My share's going to Simon,” Frank declared immediately. “Dad, perhaps his voice could be restored through surgery!” Joe and Chet instantly seconded Frank's decision.

“I'm sure medical science can do something,” Fenton Hardy answered. “Some very successful mechanical speaking devices have been developed, if it should turn out his voice can't be restored in any other way. In any case, we can send him to art school. I understand he has a fine talent for drawing.”

“That's for sure,” said Chet with admiration, as Simon's eyes shone with gratitude. “I'll have all the reward I want out of this case if I can keep Mystery. But say, I want to make sure Miss Donner gives back Skippy to little Bobby Thompson!”

“It'll be done, Chet,” Mr. Hardy promised.

“That leaves just the puma,” said Joe. “We'll give him to a zoo. They can put up a sign over its cage:

âThis Animal Was Once Known and Feared

As the Screaming Witch of Black Hollow'

“How about adding a couple of owls?” Chet suggested. “Boy, that screeching really gave me the creeps!”