The Secret Agent on Flight 101 (2 page)

The assistant strapped Mr. Hardy to the plank

Joe acceded. “All right, have it your way!” he said. “But we'll be back!”

The trio hurried out of the theater. Joe insisted upon going to nearby Claymore Police Headquarters to request that a couple of officers go back to investigate.

“All right,” said Frank.

When the group returned to the theater, Hexton became enraged. “If you try to look at my equipment without a warrant, I'll sue you!” he stormed.

The officer told the boys that since there was no evidence of a crime, the only thing they could do was to file a missing-persons report.

“But we can't just sit around and wait!” Joe declared hotly.

“On the other hand, it's possible Dad is staying away on purpose,” Frank reasoned in a low tone. “Let's wait a while before we report him missing.”

Joe was not satisfied. “At least let's search the theater.”

The police agreed to this and the manager was summoned. He gave permission, but stressed the point that he had no jurisdiction over Hexton's equipment.

The magician and his assistants glared at the Hardys and Chet as they inspected the stage thoroughly. Then they searched other sections of the theater. There was no sign of Fenton Hardy. Frank suggested that they return home, in the hope that his father would try to reach them there.

Deeply worried, the three boys hurried across the dark parking lot and got into the Hardy car. As they sped along a straight stretch of road leading from the city, Chet looked out the rear window. He noticed the headlights of a pickup truck drawing swiftly closer.

“Some character is tailgating us,” Chet said. “Doesn't he know that's dangerous?”

“Best thing is to let him go by,” Frank replied, and pulled closer to the shoulder of the road.

The small truck roared past the Hardys' car.

“A speed demon!” Joe said sarcastically as the truck disappeared from sight.

The route Frank had chosen led them along a narrow, winding mountain road, bordered on one side by a guard rail. Below it was a sheer drop of several hundred feet.

As the car rounded a sharp curve, the boys were horror-stricken to see the headlights of a car directly in front of them. They had only the fraction of a second to brace themselves for a collision!

CRASH! There was a loud, piercing sound of shattering glass as the oncoming headlights made contact. Yet there was no collision! Like an apparition, the other vehicle had vanished completely.

Frank struggled to maneuver the car away from the guard rail. He jammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop. They all looked startled.

“Wh-what happened?” Chet asked.

“I don't know,” Frank said. “This is weird—”

Joe pulled out a flashlight. “Let's go back up the road and investigate!”

The boys walked to where they had encountered the headlights. As Joe played the beam along the road, they noticed broken glass scattered about. Frank picked up a fragment.

“Look at this!” he said.

“It's a piece of mirror!” exclaimed Chet.

“So that's it!” Frank exploded. “Someone set a mirror on the road. What we saw was the reflection of our own headlights!”

Joe's eyes widened in anger. “We might have swerved over the embankment!”

“Exactly!” Frank answered. “Whoever planted the glass put it too close to the bend in the road. We came upon it so quickly I didn't have time to swerve!”

The young sleuths wondered if Hexton or his assistants had set the trap for them. Or had it been intended for another unsuspecting victim?

“This mystery is getting too dangerous,” Chet said gravely. “A guy could get hurt.”

“Don't worry. We'll get to the bottom of it,” Frank vowed.

The Hardys searched the area more closely. Joe picked up a sliver of wood. He noticed several similar pieces scattered along the road.

“What do you make of this?” he asked.

Frank examined it. “Undoubtedly this is part of a wooden easel that was used to support the mirror.”

“Magicians often use them in their acts,” remarked Joe. “Hexton could have had a big mirror brought here in a pickup truck.”

Frank agreed. “The one that passed us was certainly traveling fast enough to reach this spot well ahead of us.”

“If Hexton did plant the mirror, how could he know we'd take this road?” Chet inquired.

“It's the fastest way back to Bayport,” Frank replied. “He may have had us followed.”

After scuffing the glass and wood off the road, the boys drove on. At the Morton farm on the outskirts of Bayport, Chet got out.

“S'long, fellows,” he said. “Keep me posted about your dad.”

Frank and Joe drove home in silence. Their mother and Aunt Gertrude were waiting for them in the living room. Reluctantly the boys told what had happened.

“Oh dear!” their aunt shrilled. “Quick! Call the police. Fenton's been kidnapped!”

Gertrude Hardy, tall and angular, was the sister of Fenton Hardy. Although she admired the sleuthing abilities of her brother and nephews, she constantly worried about the dangers involved.

Mrs. Hardy, an attractive and gracious woman, was too stunned by the shock of her husband's disappearance to talk. Frank put a comforting arm about her.

“In case Dad disappeared on purpose, let's not notify the police. Joe and I will find him. He may not be far away.”

The boys excused themselves, then went to their father's study.

“I think Aunty's right about the kidnapping,” said Joe. “Dad must have had something pretty big on Hexton.”

“In that case,” Frank said, “we ought to find it in his files.”

But there was no record of Hexton under the letter H.

“Try M for magician,” Joe suggested.

Frank looked. “Not there.”

They checked several other headings, but did not find any mention of the man. Then Joe noticed a folder marked “School.”

“That's funny,” he said. “I don't remember Dad having a case to do with a school.”

He took out the file and opened it. “Frank! Look here! This is it!”

Fascinated, the boys read the notes. Mr. Hardy described the magician as a diabolical man who for years had headed a gang of thieves. Working as the crew for his show, they moved about the country with him, pulling the robberies he planned. The detective had discovered the setup recently. “So far no real evidence,” he had noted. Written at the bottom of the page was: “Last two years agent UGLI.”

“UGLI!” Joe exclaimed. “Undercover Global League of Informants!”

Frank gave a low whistle. “This is really big! UGLI is the most powerful espionage ring in the world.”

“And hostile to democratic countries,” added Joe.

The boys exchanged grim looks. If their father had been kidnapped, he was in ruthless hands!

“I think I know now why this is filed under school,” said Frank.

Joe nodded. “That's probably a camouflage word for SKOOL. Dad must be working for them.”

Both boys had heard of the famous supranational counterespionage ring which worked on behalf of democratic powers. The letters stood for Secret Knowledge Of Organized Lawbreakers.

“If only we could contact them,” said Frank, “they might be able to give us a lead. But the organization is so secret, there's no way to reach them.”

“Unless they've called you first,” said Joe. “Maybe Dad left a note on how to get in touch.”

But a thorough search turned up no information. The boys perused the report again and learned that for the past two years State Department secrets had been leaking out of Washington to enemy countries at an increasing rate. The detective had written, “Offices, cars, and homes of diplomatic corps must be very cleverly bugged. Agents probably transmit microtape to couriers who take it abroad.”

On the margin at the left were the words, “See Dell.”

Frank and Joe searched the file and all the other drawers in the room, but could find no further reference to Dell. Who was he?

Before they put the Hexton report away, Frank read aloud the note at the end of it: “ ‘Do not think Hexton is aware of investigation. Perhaps should discuss with Frank and Joe when more substantial evidence is found.' ”

“It's dated yesterday!” Joe exclaimed.

“Somehow Hexton must have learned that Dad was onto his game,” Frank observed.

“And our showing up at the theater,” Joe said, “probably made him nervous. So he pulled a kidnapping.”

Frank reminded Joe of the magician's suggestion that the two men get better acquainted. “I'll bet Dad thought if he went along with the idea he might be able to get the goods on Hexton. The first step was taking part in the trick.”

“But what a risk!” said Joe.

“You know Dad,” Frank said quietly. “If he figured it was worth while, he'd take it.”

The night wore on with no word. Finally Aunt Gertrude insisted upon phoning a missing-persons report to the Bayport police. The next morning there was still no word from the detective, and the police had found nothing.

Frank and Joe decided to drive back to Claymore. They arrived at the theater to find the front door locked. Walking around to the back, they were confronted by a guard. He told them that Hexton had given his last performance the night before and had already departed. The magician had left two of his assistants behind to supervise the packing of the show's equipment.

“Our father disappeared here last evening,” Frank said. “We'd like to have a look inside.”

“Sorry,” the guard answered, “I can't permit anyone in the theater. Manager's orders.”

“Then we'd like to see him,” Joe said.

“He's not here. I'd advise you to go.”

“Okay,” Frank signaled Joe with his eyes and the two walked off briskly around the side of the building. There they stopped abruptly and Frank peered back.

After a few minutes the guard left his post and disappeared around the far corner.

“Let's go!” Frank commanded.

Quietly the boys edged their way toward the stage door. They pulled it open and darted inside, stopping to let their eyes adjust to the dim light. Then, cautiously, they made their way to the stage. Nobody was around.

“Where are Hexton's men?” Joe whispered.

“Out for a coffee break,” Frank guessed.

The stage was cluttered with packing cases containing the magician's equipment. At the rear the boys spotted the vanishing-man device. It had already been partially dismantled.

“Look! The plank's missing,” Joe said. “Maybe packed in one of these cases.”

Further examination of the device revealed that it had a false bottom, beneath which was a secret compartment.

A soft rustling noise had sounded overhead. “What's that?” Frank said. He glanced up in time to see a ballast sandbag hurtling down toward them from the flies.

“Look out!” Frank shouted. He leaped aside, pulling Joe with him. The sandbag crashed to the stage and burst open. The boys looked up and saw a man running along a catwalk.

“After him!” Joe yelled.

“Hold it!” commanded a harsh voice. “Stay right where you are!”

THE Hardys whirled to see the theater guard approaching. “So it's you two!” he shouted angrily. “Didn't I tell you to shove off?”

“Yes, but—” Joe began.

“That crash—” the guard cut in. “What happened?” He looked at the sand scattered about the stage.

“Someone tried to drop a sandbag on us,” Frank explained.

“A likely story.” The guard eyed the boys suspiciously. “You're probably up to something. I'm calling the police!”

Keeping an eye on the boys, the guard walked to a wall telephone and dialed. Within minutes an officer arrived.

“Oh, the Hardy brothers,” he said, and turned to the guard. “I heard about these kids. They're trying to find their father.”

“I thought that was a gag,” the man replied.

“No. It's on the up and up.”

The guard apologized and helped the young sleuths examine the sandbag. They discovered that the ropes which held it had been cut.

At that moment the magician's thin assistant walked onstage. When the policeman questioned him, he gave his name as Stony Bleeker. The man said he had been out for a walk and insisted he had had nothing to do with dropping the sandbag.

“Where's the other man who was helping you pack?” Frank asked.

“How should I know?”

“I suppose you're going to tell us that you don't know what happened to our father, either!” Joe said.

“You're nuts!” Bleeker growled.

The Hardys climbed up to examine the flies, but there was no trace of their attacker. “He must have sneaked down the ladder and out the side door while we were hassling with the guard,” said Joe.

Back on the stage, the boys found further questioning fruitless. The policeman said he would request that the detective squad investigate the matter.

Stony Bleeker quickly set about packing the rest of Hexton's equipment, telling the policeman that a truck would call for it shortly.

“Well, that's that!” Frank said glumly. “Come on, Joe. Let's go home.”

On the way back to Bayport, the boys decided to search their father's study again.