The Secret Agent on Flight 101 (5 page)

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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

BOOK: The Secret Agent on Flight 101
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“Who is this?” Frank demanded. There was a sharp clicking sound. The mysterious caller had hung up!
The message startled the boys. “Did you recognize the voice?” Joe asked.
“I'm not sure,” Frank said, “but it sounded like Hexton's giant helper, Vordol”
“The Landon Mansion, eh?” Joe queried. “That old dilapidated house hasn't been lived in for years. I understand it'll be torn down soon.”
“If I remember correctly, it's just off Highway 18,” Frank recalled. “It'll take us about thirty minutes to drive there.”
“But it may be a trap!” Joe declared.
“We must take the risk,” Frank insisted. “Dad really might be there.”
They asked Chet to post himself at the telephone. “If we're not back in two hours, notify the police,” Frank requested.
He and Joe stopped to tell Mrs. Hardy their plans. Though worried, she conceded they should go. Ten minutes later the Hardys' car was humming down the highway on the outskirts of town. The night was clear and a strong breeze lent a chill to the air. A full moon bathed the trees and fields in an eerie, silvery light.
Before long, the Hardys came to a narrow dirt road and turned onto it. Neglected for many years, it was pitted with holes and covered in spots with clumps of grass and weeds. There were signs, however, that some kind of vehicle had traveled the road recently. Much of the grass had been flattened and there were tire tracks.
At the end of the rutted road, the two sleuths discovered iron gateposts. The gates had long since fallen from their rusted hinges. In the distance stood the Landon Mansion, ghostly in the moonlight. Frank and Joe got out of the car and walked toward it. The only light came from a window on the second floor.
Reaching the house, they stopped and listened for a moment. All was quiet.
The Hardys furtively made their way to the door and eased it open. Silently they slipped in, but froze like statues when Vordo's voice boomed from upstairs.
“Your father's waiting here!”
Frank and Joe broke into a cold sweat. “That guy must have radar eyes,” Frank whispered. “Come on, Joe! We can't turn back now.”
The boys climbed the creaky staircase, which groaned under their feet. Just before they reached the top, a grinding sound echoed through the old building. With a splintering crash the staircase parted just where they were standing. The lower section fell away and the boys plunged toward the darkness below!
CHAPTER VI
Aerial Chase
FALLING, Frank made a grab for the step ahead of him and hung on as Joe gripped his waist. Though his arms ached from the strain, Frank pulled desperately, hoisting himself up inch by inch.
Finally Joe reached out and grasped the step. After much effort, both boys worked themselves safely onto the next tread.
“These guys don't play around,” Frank murmured, rubbing his swollen hands. “Well, up we go.”
They climbed the few remaining steps and entered the room straight ahead. It was empty, except for a small table, on which a single candle burned.
At the end of the room was a window. The boys rushed to it and looked down into the yard in time to see Vordo and Stony Bleeker leap into a car and speed off.
“Neat getaway,” Joe muttered.
“No use trying to chase them,” Frank said. “They'll be out of sight by the time we get to our car.”
“Dad wasn't with them,” Joe commented.
“Of course not. Calling us over here was just a trap,” Frank replied. He pulled angrily on the rope which Vordo and Bleeker had used to get from the window to the ground.
The boys went to examine the remaining section of the staircase. It had been sawed more than halfway through! In a sober mood Frank and Joe returned to the window, slid down the rope, then drove home. Chet was greatly relieved to see his friends.
“What about your dad?” he asked excitedly, and was quickly told what had happened.
“Wow! Well, I'm glad you're safe,” Chet said. “While you were gone two important phone calls came in. The first was from the police chief in Granton. He said Burly Wilkes has escaped!”
“What!” Joe exclaimed. “How did that happen?”
“A detective had handcuffed Wilkes to a table in the interrogation room while he went out for a few minutes,” Chet said. “When he returned, Wilkes was gone. Somehow, he had slipped out of the handcuffs.”
“A trick he could have learned from Hexton,” Frank mused.
“And another thing,” Chet went on, “the green sedan was Hexton's and it has not been picked up.”
“What about the second call?”
“It was from Kenneth Dell,” Chet answered. “He wants to talk to you as soon as possible.”
Frank picked up the phone and dialed the private number of the Great Circle Airways' security chief.
Dell sounded excited. “I've had a report that one of our flight stewards, named Timken, has been acting suspicious lately. He used to be friendly and stay around for a while after landing. Now shortly after he gets in from Scotland on Flight 101, he leaves in a waiting helioplane. He never says where he's going.”
“That is strange,” Frank remarked. “A helioplane! The kind that can take off and land in short distances?”
“Right! It can also fly at very low speeds.”
“Have you any idea where the steward goes?” Frank asked.
“No flight plan was filed,” Dell said.
“Who owns the plane?” Joe inquired.
“I don't know, but now I mean to find out,” Dell replied. “Whenever the pilot has asked for landing instructions, he has identified himself as ‘Helioplane 345.' Of course those are only the last three figures in his whole number.”
Joe asked, “What about Timken as a steward?”
“He was hired by our firm only a couple of months ago. Seems efficient and so far we haven't found anything incriminating in his record. Flight 101 is part of his regular schedule, and I'm watching it for anything the least bit suspicious. With Hexton's headquarters probably in a Scottish castle, we can't be too careful about our Scotland flights.”
“I have an idea,” said Frank. “The next time Timken takes the helioplane, Joe and I will follow him.”
“Follow him?” Dell said. “How?”
“In Dad's plane.”
“But if you were to take off immediately behind the helioplane and trail it on the same course,” Dell countered, “wouldn't that arouse the pilot's suspicions?”
“We would take off from a different airport,” Frank said. “Hold on just a minute, will you?”
He beckoned Joe, who handed him an aeronautical chart. Spreading it out, Frank examined the area in the vicinity of Great Circle's base. Then he picked up the phone again.
“There's a small general airfield at Burnsbie near your base,” he told Dell. “We'll land there and wait. When you see the steward boarding the helioplane, let us know.”
“It might just work at that,” the SKOOL agent agreed.
“What is Timken's first name and when is he scheduled to return from his next flight?” Frank asked.
“Stand by. I'll check the crew schedule.” There was a brief pause, then Dell came on again. “His first name is Guy, and he's scheduled for an outgoing flight tonight. He'll be back here at ten o'clock Thursday morning, our time.”
“Good!” Frank said. “Barring bad weather, we'll plan to be at the field at least an hour before Timken is due back.”
Frank said good-by, then called Jack Wayne and informed him of the plan. The pilot said he would have the plane fueled and ready to fly Thursday morning at the crack of dawn.
As the first rays of sunlight appeared in the east that day, the Hardys got up and dressed. They were surprised to find their mother and Aunt Gertrude already in the kitchen preparing breakfast for them.
“Um! Sausage and cakes!” Joe said with a grin.
Immediately after breakfast, the boys drove to Bayport Airport. There they made a final check on the weather. The forecaster told them it would be CAVU-Geiling and Visibility Unlimited—for at least another forty-eight hours.
“The ship's all set to fly!” Jack Wayne called as they walked across the ramp.
He and the Hardys got into the plane and fastened their seat belts. A sudden roar echoed across the field as Jack started engines. He made a quick but thorough check of the instruments. Minutes later, they were airborne and climbing rapidly above Bayport.
“We should get to Burnsbie with plenty of time to spare,” Frank said as he glanced at his watch.
Upon arriving at their destination, Jack at tended to the refueling of the plane, while Frank and Joe waited in the operations room for a call from Kenneth Dell.
It was a few minutes after ten o'clock when the telephone rang. The airport manager scooped up the receiver, then announced that the call was for the boys.
“This is Kenneth Dell, Frank! Timken just got into the helioplane. They're taxiing out now for take-off.”
“Roger!” declared the young detective. “We're on our way.”
In a matter of minutes, Jack Wayne and the Hardys were approaching Great Circle's base at several thousand feet.
“There's the helioplane!” Joe exclaimed. “It's at the three-o'clock position.”
The craft veered slightly to a northeast course. Jack followed at a safe distance.
A short time later the helioplane made two complete turns, then reverted to course. Jack did the same. Moments later, their quarry repeated the maneuver.
“Why all those turns?” Joe asked.
“He's probably checking to see if he's being followed,” Jack replied.
“Do you suppose he spotted us?” Joe asked.
Frank replied, “No doubt. But we've nothing to lose by continuing the chase.”
The gap between the two crafts, however, decreased more and more as the helioplane reduced speed.
“That clunker up ahead can fly much slower than we can.” Jack's voice showed concern.
He attempted to keep his distance, but another glance at the airspeed indicator told him that their plane was dangerously near to a stall. The Hardys tightened their seat belts when the craft began to buffet.
“Sorry, boys,” the pilot said. “I can't make it.” He was about to increase power when suddenly the helioplane executed a sharp turn and headed directly for them. Jack quickly maneuvered out of the way, but the sharp movement of the controls caused the aircraft to stall.
The plane rolled into an almost inverted position and dived vertically toward the ground!
CHAPTER VII
Suspect on the Run
FRANK and Joe were thrown against their seat belts as the plane dropped earthward, and the wind whistled an eerie dirge against the wings.
“Hang on!” Jack shouted as he pulled the throttle closed and applied aileron and rudder control.
He managed to level the wings, then concentrated on recovering from the steep dive. As he eased back slowly on the wheel, the boys were pressed down into their seats by the increasing G force.
Finally Jack had the aircraft back to straight and level—but with not much altitude to spare. He increased power and the plane climbed higher. For a moment nobody spoke.
“Whew!” Joe finally exclaimed as he wiped perspiration from his face. “I can't say I'm too keen on this kind of maneuver.”
“Whoever is flying that helioplane,” Jack Wayne remarked, “is a pretty good pilot.”
“Keep a sharp lookout,” Frank urged as he searched the sky above them.
They continued to gain altitude and the boys scanned the area on all sides. Ahead, puffy white cumulus clouds built up over the hilly terrain.
“I'm afraid we've lost our quarry,” the pilot said. “And I'll bet they're members of UGLI!”
“Yes, worse luck,” Frank answered. “The clouds offer excellent cover. Trying to find those agents in it would be like trying to find a flea in a fog.”
The Hardys decided to discontinue the chase and return to Great Circle's base. Upon landing, an announcement came over the public-address system.
“Frank and Joe Hardy, please report to the operations room.”
The young sleuths sprinted to the administration building. In the operations room Kenneth Dell was clutching a telephone to his ear.
“What's up?” Frank asked.
“Flight Service has just given me the helioplane's full registration number. I told them to let me know if they heard anything from the pilot,” Dell said. “Looks as if we're in luck! He ran into bad weather north of here, and had to file an instrument flight plan.”
“What's his destination?” Joe asked.
“Logan International Airport, Boston,” the security chief replied.
“Jeepers!” Joe exclaimed. “Do you think that's where he was headed all the time?”
“I doubt it,” Frank replied. “Timken wouldn't want anyone to know where he's going. I think they're just planning to land and wait for the weather to clear. Then they can continue the trip without a flight plan.”
Dell signaled for silence as he pressed the receiver closer to his ear. He jotted down a few notes and then hung up.
“Here's something else,” he announced. “The pilot's name given on the flight plan is Mazer. And the owner of the helioplane is the Coastal Courier Service.”
“Say,” Joe spoke up, “why don't we have Jack fly us to Boston right away? Logan is a busy airport. Timken might not notice our arrival.”
“Good idea,” Dell said. “In the meantime, I'm going to check out this information.”

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