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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

BOOK: The Crisscross Shadow

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Finally one of the bonds loosened, then another. Frank twisted his hands violently. The ropes slipped. He was free!

Quickly he ripped off the blindfold and the adhesive tape, then released his brother.

“Thank goodness!” Joe whispered. “Now to break out of here!”

Rubbing their chafed wrists, the boys surveyed the dingy little room. The only exit was the door. When it refused to open, Joe said:

“Come on. Let's crash it!”

Rearing back, they heaved against the door. Once, twice, then a loud splintering noise and the door gave way.

Crashing into the other room, they looked for their father. But he as well as the men had vanished!

“They've taken Dad with them!” Joe cried.

“Come on,” Frank urged. “Let's get out of here. We have work to do to save him!”

The boys dashed down the stairs and into the street. They gazed around them.

“This place looks familiar,” Frank said, then added excitedly as he saw a store sign, “We're in Southport!”

“Let's get to the police fast, Frank,” Joe urged, “before those men get too far away with Dad!”

“Hold on a minute!” Frank exclaimed, a strange look coming over his face. “There's something mighty queer about this whole deal. Before we see the police, I suggest that we get in touch with Mother and with Sam Radley.”

“You suspect something?” Joe asked.

“I sure do!”

CHAPTER XV

The Hideout

“THAT wasn't Dad at all,” Frank told Joe.

“What!”

“Bet you anything! He'd have given us some sign.”

“But it was his voice,” Joe protested.

“That's the only part which puzzles me,” Frank confessed. “Before we go to the police, let's check with Sam Radley and find out whether he's heard from Mr. Bryant.”

“Good idea. But how about some food?”

“You find a taxi and I'll grab some sandwiches.”

“With what?” Joe asked.

Frank realized ruefully that they did not have any money and knew no one in town but the police.

“I guess we'll have to go to them after all and borrow some money.”

They walked to headquarters and told their story. The captain said he would investigate the place at once. By the time the boys had washed, combed their hair, and brushed their clothes, the officers had returned. They reported that they could find no trace of the kidnappers.

“I'm sure they won't return,” the captain commented, adding that Breck and York had not been seen in Southport.

The boys asked for a loan of ten dollars, then left. Munching sandwiches and drinking soda on their way in the taxi, they soon reached the Bayport Hospital.

Sam Radley was lying in bed reading. He looked up over the top of the paper.

“Why, hello, Frank and Joe. Where'd you come from?” the detective asked in astonishment.

“It's a long story,” Frank replied. He briefly outlined their adventures, ending with his suspicion that the man at Southport was not Mr. Hardy.

“You could be right,” Sam conceded. “Here's a telegram from Mr. Bryant.” The message read:

STOP WORRYING AROUT YOUR BOSS.

“That practically proves the man in Southport wasn't Dad,” Frank said.

“Not necessarily,” Sam replied. “It's just possible your father allowed himself to be captured on purpose to get closer to the gang and its operations.”

“But why did he warn us to lay off?” Joe asked.

“For two reasons: so you wouldn't get hurt, and also so you wouldn't interfere with his sleuthing.”

“That might be, but I still don't believe the man we saw in Southport was Dad.”

“I don't agree with you, Frank,” his brother declared. “I'm sure even an actor couldn't imitate Dad's voice so perfectly.”

A gong sounded, and a nurse appeared. “Visitors must leave now,” she said, and to be sure they did, she waited until the boys bid Sam good night and hurried down the corridor.

When they reached their home, Joe suddenly grinned. “Mother and Aunt Gertrude will certainly be surprised to see us. They think that we're still up in the mountains.”

“Who's there?” a suspicious voice called from behind the door.

“It's us, Aunt Gertrude,” Frank answered.

The door swung open wide. “Joe! Frank!” she cried. “I'm glad you're home!”

“Who's there?” Mrs. Hardy asked, coming to the hallway. “My boys!” she exclaimed, hugging them.

The reason for their sudden appearance was soon told. The women's eyes widened in amazement, and they asked them not to return to the dangerous area.

“But we don't know what happened to Ted Whitestone!” Joe said. “He may be a prisoner.”

“I understand,” Mrs. Hardy replied. “How about telephoning his father?”

“We'll do that, anyway,” Frank said. “But if we're going to solve the Ramapan mystery, we must work before the hunter's moon is gone.”

When he talked to Chief Whitestone, the man said a search had already been started for all three boys. He was amazed to hear what had happened, and was glad that the Hardys had escaped. The chief said grimly he would notify the police about Smirkis and the other men and that efforts to find his son would be redoubled.

“We'll be back as soon as we can,” Frank promised.

“That's fine, but I'm afraid Ted is miles away by this time,” his father said woefully.

Joe called the airport and learned that a plane which left Bayport early in the morning stopped at Lantern Junction. He quickly made reservations.

Meanwhile, Frank had begun to worry about the safety of his mother and Aunt Gertrude. He was afraid that when the gang found out the boys had escaped they might come to the Hardy home and seek revenge.

“I'm going to ask Chief Collig to post plainclothesmen at the house day and night,” he said, and dialed the police headquarters.

Collig was not there, but he left the message with the sergeant who promised cooperation.

“A man will be here in a few minutes,” Frank reported to his family.

He and Joe set an alarm clock and tumbled into bed. The next morning they found it hard to awaken when the buzzer sounded, but they got up and dressed quickly. After kissing their aunt and mother good-by, the boys left the house. They stopped for a moment to talk with the detective on guard, then started for the airport.

Arriving just in time, the Hardys took their seats in the small plane that serviced the mountainous region of the Ramapan country. An hour later they landed near Lantern Junction and were driven to town. After a hearty breakfast at the Grand Hotel they set out once more for the Indian village.

“We'd better keep our eyes open for anybody lying in wait for us,” Frank advised. “I'll lead off and look in front and to the right. You check what's on our left and in back of us.”

But they saw no one and reached the Ramapan village without incident. When Chief Whitestone opened the door he grasped their hands eagerly.

“You're back! But there's no word of Ted! You have no idea where he might be?”

“I'm afraid, Chief Whitestone,” Frank said, “that he's a prisoner of the people who are trying to get your land away from you.”

The Indian stared unbelievingly. “You mean they're holding him as a hostage?”

“Probably.”

“I had no idea what danger you'd get into when I asked you to find the deed,” the chief said. “We've looked in vain for Ted so far. Chet and some of the villagers as well as the police are out now hunting for him. Have you anything to suggest?”

The boys said they were so sure that Smirkis was holding Ted prisoner, they would base their efforts on that assumption.

“Let's phone Mike right away,” said Frank.

He dashed to the telephone. Seconds later he realized that the wire was dead.

“More of the gang's work,” Frank said in disgust. “They cut the line!”

Joe suggested that he and Frank hurry to town and tell their story to the police. Without waiting for Chet, they returned to Lantern Junction and went to headquarters.

“We think Ted was taken away by Smirkis,” Joe said. “Can you tell us anything about his haunts so we can look for him too?”

Mike ran his fingers through his hair before replying. Suddenly he snapped his fingers.

“The cabin!” he exclaimed. “That's the place. It just came to me. Smirkis once had a hunting cabin in the woods. He sold it, but I'll bet that's where he's hiding.”

The Hardys were on their feet in an instant. “Come on!” said Frank. “Let's have a look right away!”

The officer got his car and they drove a couple of miles out of town. Mike parked and they started off through a heavily overgrown area.

After a twenty-minute trek Mike suddenly held up his hand and motioned them to be quiet.

“It's just through those trees,” he said, pointing.

Treading carefully the three moved silently toward the cabin. There was no sign of life.

Joe ducked down and moved to a spot underneath a window. The others followed. Raising their heads, they peered inside.

In the dusky room they could see nothing at first, then suddenly each received a shock.

Ted Whitestone was trussed up and propped against the wall!

CHAPTER XVI

A Moonlight Search

SMIRKIS was standing in front of Ted, a whip held menacingly in one hand.

“You'd better tell me!” he snarled. “If you don't, you'll get more of this whip!”

“You can't get me to talk by torture!” Ted answered defiantly.

The onlookers could see several ugly welts on the boy's arms.

“Where's that buried treasure?” Smirkis demanded, using the whip on the boy's hands. “You know all right, but you and your father are trying to keep it for yourselves!”

Mike signaled the Hardys. “Okay,” he whispered. “Time to move! Circle the cabin!”

Frank and Joe took strategic positions so Smirkis could not escape. Then, with a tremendous crash, Mike assailed the door and burst into the room!

The police officer dived for Smirkis. Though taken off guard, the wily swindler was not to be caught so easily. He slashed at his opponent with the whip, then leaped through a window.

But he was trapped. Frank and Joe converged on him from either side.

“Okay. I give up, but I can explain everything,” the man declared as they led him into the cabin.

Meanwhile, Mike was releasing Ted from his bonds. The Hardys turned their prisoner over to the police officer and rushed up to Ted.

“It's sure good to see you fellows,” the Indian boy said, chafing his wrists where the ropes had been fastened.

“Are you all right?” Frank asked.

“I guess you just got here in time,” Ted replied soberly. Then they all turned their attention to Smirkis.

“You'd better come clean,” Mike told him. “Who's paying you and what do they want?”

Smirkis hung his head. “A stranger hired me.”

“What was his name?”

“He didn't tell me. He just said, âCall me Al. I'll pay you well.' ”

“For what?”

“To spy on the Ramapans. He said they had a fabulous buried treasure.”

“A spy, eh?” Frank broke in. “Find out anything?”

“No,” Smirkis muttered.

The Hardys wondered if he were speaking the truth.

“Where is this Al now?” Joe asked.

The prisoner shrugged.

“Where did he stay when he was in town?” Mike prodded him.

Smirkis looked at his captors sheepishly. “I let him stay in this cabin. I knew the owner wouldn't come here. Al told me he couldn't be seen in town.”

“Wanted, eh?” the officer remarked.

“What did Al look like?” Frank asked.

“He's a dark, heavy-set man. About thirty-five, I'd say. He has a bad scar on the back of his right hand. Looks like a W.”

“Breck!” Joe exclaimed. “Boy, does that explain a lot!”

“Good work!” the police officer said admiringly to the Hardys. “This Al or Breckâwhatever his name isâwe'll set a watch on this cabin, and if he shows up, we'll bring him in.”

Mike took the prisoner back to town, and the boys set out for the Ramapan village.

“Did that guy talk to you all the time?” Frank asked Ted.

“No. He slept a lot, and once he went off for several hours.”

“To cut the telephone line at your house,” Joe deduced.

“At first he wasn't bad to me and gave me food regularly. But this morning he started whipping me 'cause I wouldn't talk.”

Chief Whitestone was relieved to see his son, and Chet bubbled over with joy at seeing all three safe.

“This mystery gets more complicated,” the chief remarked. “Since you've been gone, I've received a letter from that man you asked me about âPhilip York.”

“Philip York?” the Hardys chorused.

“He claims to be the grandson, by a former marriage, of the Amos York who once owned this land. You recall we bought it from his estate.”

“What did he want?” Frank asked.

“He says his father didn't get his share of the money when the property was sold.”

“Has he any real claim?” Chet put in.

“If he has, we're in trouble,” Chief Whitestone replied, “because all heirs have to be accounted for when any land is sold.”