“And you looked for it yourself?” Frank asked.
“That is correct. But I had no success, and finally I deemed it wise to come directly to Mr. Jefferson.”
“How did you get to Cabin Island?” Chet asked.
“But of course, I walked,” Yussef replied with a smile. “I overheard Mr. Hanleigh talking with the two young men whom I have seen transporting him to the island in an ice-going craft.”
“Now you understand the whole situation, Yussef,” said Mr. Jefferson. “I agree with my young detective friends that Mr. Hanleigh evidently hopes to locate the medals for his own gain—including the one desired by your ruler.”
“It is a great misfortune to have lost so fine a treasure,” Yussef declared sympathetically, “and to be persecuted by an unscrupulous person such as Mr. Hanleigh.”
“At least we won’t be off chasing ghosts!” Chet added a little sheepishly. “When I first saw you, I thought you were a spook!”
The foreign visitor laughed along with the others, then Frank said, “We’d better get back to the island and see how Joe’s making out.”
Yussef’s expression became somber. Gravely he said to Frank, “If your brother is alone there, you must hurry to him. I have a feeling he is in danger. Mr. Hanleigh can be violent.”
“We know it,” said Frank. “We’ll leave right away.”
Meanwhile, Joe had left the cabin with the binoculars and was trudging toward the cliff, eager to test the theory that had been forming in his mind.
As he stepped from the shelter of the woods, the sunlight was dazzling on the snowy ground which led to the cliff edge. Beyond lay the frozen bay.
Joe’s eyes sought the circle of tall stones he had seen from the roof. They stood near the edge of the cliff about fifty yards to his right. With a surge of excitement, he strode toward them. “Now—” he said to himself, “we’ll see!”
Suddenly Joe stopped. Below, an iceboat was skimming across the inlet. He swung his binoculars up and trained them on the craft. Joe stiffened.
“The Hawk!” he muttered. “Ike, Tad, and Hanleigh!”
Quickly Joe made his way downhill and hid in a clump of bushes near the dock. He watched as the craft was guided ashore and tied up. The three paused close enough for Joe to hear Hanleigh say:
“You punks keep an eye out for the Hardys and their pals. Give a shout if you see anyone coming.” Then the man started toward the cabin.
Joe waited until Ike and Tad had walked off down the shore, then returned noiselessly up the slope. Cautiously he peered into the living room of the cabin—no one was there. Joe hurried to the rear and crouched among some bushes below the window of the Hardys’ bedroom. He raised his head and peered in.
Hanleigh was rummaging through the brothers’ belongings! “Bet he’s looking for the notebook,” Joe thought. “Good thing Frank has it with him.”
Suddenly Hanleigh spun around and Joe ducked. He heard the man’s outraged bellow. “Spying again, are you!”
CHAPTER XVI
The Intruder’s Revenge
“How did Hanleigh spot me?” Joe thought desperately, crouched low amidst the bushes. Moments later, the kitchen door opened and footsteps scrunched toward him on the snow.
To Joe’s surprised relief, the big man strode past his hiding place and disappeared around the side of the cabin. Before Joe could move, Hanleigh’s angry voice rang out.
“Couldn’t resist snooping, could you?” he snarled. “I haven’t paid you two just for taxi service—I’ve been paying you to mind your own business.”
Ike Nash and Tad Carson!
Joe smiled wryly. “They must have been looking through that little end window in my bedroom.”
Ike’s whining voice came to his ears. “We were freezing! There’s a fierce wind off the ice.”
“That’s a real shame!” Hanleigh retorted. “You fellows come with me. I’ll show you a place to keep warm!”
The three rounded the corner and Joe held his breath as they plodded past him. He poked his head from the bushes in time to see Hanleigh open the woodshed. “Wait in there!” he ordered.
Unsuspecting, the two roughnecks stepped inside. Hanleigh pushed the door shut and bolted it. “I’ll take good care of the Hawk for you!” he sang out tauntingly.
From within the shed came angry yells as Ike and Tad pounded violently on the door. Chortling, Hanleigh turned toward the kitchen.
“Let us out of here!” Ike screamed.
“You don’t know how to run the iceboat!” Tad cried frantically.
“Oh, stop your chatter!” Hanleigh shouted. “I won’t wreck it! Do you think I’d take a chance with my own skin?”
Again the two prisoners pounded and kicked at the door. “You got no right to hold us!” Ike yelled. Hanleigh paid no attention.
Joe came to a sudden decision. “I must hold Hanleigh here until the others get back!”
The young sleuth stood up resolutely and called out, “So you’re trespassing again, Mr. Hanleigh!”
The man gave a start. Upon seeing Joe, his face contorted in rage. “You meddling spy!” he shouted. “I’m not trespassing. I came after my own property! Get out of my way!”
Joe walked up to Hanleigh and asked calmly, “Did you lose a notebook? One that has John Sparewell’s name inside?”
Again Hanleigh started guiltily. “I don’t know anything about a notebook,” he replied sullenly. “I came for my wallet. I lost it last time I was here. You probably found it, and you’d better turn it over or I’ll have the law on you!”
“Did the message in code tell you to come looking for something valuable on Cabin Island?” Joe persisted.
Hanleigh swung his fist. Joe ducked and butted the man hard in the chest. With a grunt Hanleigh staggered back against the cabin.
“You’re a scrapper, eh?” he panted.
“Anything you start, I’ll finish,” Joe said. He watched the man warily, but Hanleigh only gave an ugly smile. “I’ll fix you later,” he said softly. “No use hanging around now.”
He turned and plunged down the hill. Joe followed, keeping an eye on him. At the dock Hanleigh untied the Hawk and sped for the inlet.
“Too bad I couldn’t hold him here,” Joe thought. Then he remembered Ike and Tad in the woodshed, and grinned. “But I still have his buddies!”
He headed quickly up the hill toward the cliff. At the top Joe looked down, but could see no sign of the Hawk. “Hanleigh made good time,” he said to himself, then the young detective’s thoughts returned to the cluster of stones he wanted to investigate.
When Joe reached the spot, he quickly circled the tall rocks and spotted a narrow opening between two of them. He stepped through and found himself on a small patch of rocky ground, damp with melted snow. He knelt and felt the stones. They were warm! From several crevices arose wisps of smoke.
“Somebody has built a fire below,” he murmured. “Clever! Nobody’d ever notice the smoke.”
The thin streams drifting to the top disappeared in the wind.
The next moment Joe heard a noise and a soft laugh behind him. For an instant he froze. Hanleigh! Too late the boy flung himself sideways. A hard blow landed on the back of his head. He sank into darkness!
When Joe regained consciousness, he was first aware of the intense cold and of a throbbing sensation in the back of his head. His aching eyes saw a low roof of snow above him. Then he realized his wrists and ankles were tightly bound.
“Hanleigh!” Joe thought. “Where is he?”
The big man was nowhere in sight. Joe struggled to free himself, but every movement tightened the stout cords.
“Boy, what a mess!” Joe muttered in disgust. “I’ll just have to wait until Frank and the others come back.” He noticed that his feet and hands were growing numb, but managed to wiggle his toes and fingers. “I’ll have a swell case of frostbite if they don’t show up soon.”
At that moment Frank, Chet, and Biff were streaking toward the inlet in the Sea Gull. S
uddenly Chet pointed. “Look!”
Out of the narrow channel sped an iceboat with a lone occupant at the tiller.
“Hanleigh!” Frank exclaimed. “I wonder what happened to Ike and Tad!” A chill went through him. “And what about Joe?”
“Let’s go after Hanleigh!” Biff cried out.
Frank shook his head. “We should get to the island pronto. Something’s fishy about this whole business. Joe may be in danger.”
In a short time the Sea Gull was tied up, and the three boys hurried straight up the slope to the cabin.
Frank threw open the door. “Joe!” he called anxiously. “Hey, Joe!”
There was no answer.
“Listen!” Chet exclaimed. Loud bangings and scufflings could be heard.
“Joe might be locked in the attic!” Biff said. They all rushed into the kitchen, then paused in confusion.
“Not the attic,” Frank said. “Those sounds are coming from the woodshed!”
The others followed as he dashed outside and unbolted the door of the lean-to. “Joe—” he began, then stopped abruptly as Ike and Tad half stumbled into the open.
“What are you two doing here?” Biff demanded in amazement.
“Where’s Joe?” Chet asked.
“Joe?” Tad snapped. “Where’s Hanleigh? And the Hawk?”
“Yeah!” Ike put in. “That guy’s a dirty double crosser. He tricked us into this icebox and locked us up.”
“Right now Hanleigh’s taking off in your boat,” Frank told them, then added sternly, “Never mind about him. What happened to my brother?”
“Don’t look at us—we never saw him!” Tad replied. “We thought you were all away from the island.”
“After Hanleigh trapped us in that shed, we don’t know what he did,” Ike added, whining. “We just kept banging and yelling.”
“Maybe you’ll be more careful what kind of people you take up with after this,” Chet said. “And think twice about causing boat accidents, too.”
“Aw, cut the lecture, fatso,” Ike sneered.
Frank turned to Biff and Chet. “I’m going to find Joe. Something’s happened to him. You take those two inside, and don’t let them go. I want to question them later.”
“You think Joe is in danger?” Chet asked fearfully.
Frank looked worried. “I’m afraid so. It’s a big island,” he added grimly. “I hope we’re not too late.”
CHAPTER XVII
The Dangerous Climb
“JOE!” Frank called repeatedly as he slowly circled the island searching for his brother. The young sleuth had nearly reached the cliff when his shouts were answered by a faint cry.
“Here! Over here!” Then silence.
Frank thought the sounds had come from a clump of tangled underbrush and hastened to it. Pulling aside the snowy branches, he saw Joe. The blond boy was so numb that he could barely move his lips. Quickly Frank untied the cords on his brother’s ankles and wrists.
“Think you can walk?”
“I’ll try,” came the faint reply.
Joe leaned heavily on his brother and the pair made their way haltingly toward the cabin. When they drew near, Frank shouted, “Biff! Hurry!”
The muscular youth came sprinting outside and together he and Frank carried Joe into the living room and placed him on the sofa. Chet, heaving a sigh of relief, rushed to get a blanket.
After a few minutes, Joe felt stronger. Presently he drank a cup of hot cocoa, then said, “I’m okay.”
Just then he noticed Ike and Tad, standing glumly next to the fireplace. Joe grinned. “Did you have a nice warm wait in the woodshed, fellows?” As they scowled, Joe told his story without mentioning why he had gone to the cliff or what he had found there.
When Joe had finished, Biff strode over angrily to Ike and Tad. “What’s Hanleigh after on Cabin Island?”
“That’s what we wanted to find out,” Ike answered. “Say, won’t you guys give us a lift to Bayport so we can find the Hawk?”
“Are you kidding?” Chet retorted scornfully. “You expect a ride in the Hardys’ iceboat after you tried twice to wreck it?”
“How did Hanleigh find out we were going to stay on Cabin Island?” Joe queried.
“We were picking him up down the road when he spotted you packing the Sea Gull,” Tad explained. “Hanleigh eavesdropped on you near the boathouse and heard your plans.”
“We’ve just been doing his dirty work,” Ike said sourly.
“You could have injured someone seriously throwing that log at the Sea Gull,” Frank said. “Mr. Jefferson was knocked out.”
“Don’t blame me. I wasn’t there!” Ike whined.
“It’s true,” Tad admitted. “Hanleigh and I wore masks. It was his idea to disable your boat.”
“But how could you be sure we would be coming out in the Sea Gull at that time?” Joe asked.
“We were on our way to the island when we saw you,” Tad replied. “Hanleigh changed his mind about the trip and decided to ram you. He made me take him ashore to pick up a log. Then we lay in wait near the inlet. We didn’t realize you had the old man until too late.”
Despite further intensive questioning, Ike and Tad stuck to their statement that they knew nothing of Hanleigh’s quest on Cabin Island, nor had they seen a boy answering Johnny Jefferson’s description. Finally the troublemakers departed, grumbling, to walk home.
As soon as the door had closed behind them, Joe swung off the couch. “Fellows,” he said, “I’ve something to tell you.”
“And about time!” exclaimed Frank. “I’ve been burning with curiosity. Why did you ask Mr. Jefferson about the hot springs?”
“And what were you doing on the cliff?” Chet put in.
Joe interrupted. “Take it easy. Let me explain. I think I know where Johnny Jefferson is.”
“Where?” chorused the others.
“In a cave in the cliff.”
“How do you figure that?” Biff asked.
Joe told about spotting the patch of dark ground from the cabin roof. “At first I figured there was a hot spring melting the snow. Later it occurred to me that, instead, there might be a cave under the spot. If someone built a fire in it and there were crevices in the roof leading to the surface, the smoke would come up and the heat would melt the snow.”
Frank’s eyes flashed with excitement. “Great deduction, Joe!”
“I got only as far as the circle of stones,” Joe went on. “Smoke was coming up, so I’m sure somebody was in the cave—probably Johnny. But Hanleigh knocked me out before I could look for the entrance.”
“Then he dragged you to a place where you could freeze waiting to be rescued,” Biff put in grimly.
“The mouth of the cave is probably in the cliff face!” Frank declared. He jumped up and started pulling on his parka. “Come on! We’ll surprise Johnny and bring him back here!”
“Wait!” exclaimed Chet. “First lunch!”
After a quick snack, the boys headed for the cliff. On the way, Frank told his brother about the meeting with Yussef.
Joe whistled. “Hanleigh’s a sharp operator, all right. I wish I could’ve made him admit he was after the medals. He was plenty upset when he found out we had the book and the coded message. I’m sure he hasn’t solved the cipher yet,” Joe added.
When the boys reached open ground at the top of the cliff, they were met by an icy blast from the bay. Frank glanced anxiously at the leaden sky.
“Storm coming,” he muttered.
Joe showed them the sheltered spot in the circle of stones. No smoke was rising.
“The fire must have gone out,” Frank commented.
“Since the cave is right under here,” said Chet, “the way down may be nearby.”
“Let’s look for footprints leading to the edge of the cliff,” Biff suggested.
“It won’t be much use,” Frank said, shaking his head. “This wind will have swept them away.”
The boys walked to the rim and
looked down at the jumble of ice-coated crags which jutted out, hiding the sheer wall below.
Biff shivered. “One slip and good-by!”
“Maybe we’d better forget about it,” Chet said hopefully.
“No,” Frank answered. “If Johnny Jefferson can get down there, so can we. But we need our creepers and flashlights.”
“I’ll go back and get them,” Chet volunteered quickly, and started toward the cabin.
“Hurry!” Frank called after him. “It’ll be dark soon.”
“It’s dark in here already,” Chet muttered as he entered the woods. He plowed along the trail the boys had made earlier, wishing he had not come alone. The white woods was eerie and the pines moaned and tossed in the wind, showering him with snow.
Once Chet put up an arm to protect his face and stumbled off the trail into a clump of brush. He fought clear, found the path again, and went on.
Suddenly the wind stopped. Startled by the silence, Chet paused.
Why did he feel he was not alone?
As he stood, breathing heavily, he heard a low moan behind him. It rose into a weird cry and trailed off into silence.
Chet’s lips opened and closed, but he made no sound. With effort he forced himself to look back. Was there something tall and white standing against a snowy bush? As he strained to see, the thing vanished among the trees. With a hoarse cry Chet plunged down the trail and did not stop until he was in the cabin. Gasping, he locked the door and leaned against it.
“Can’t be sure I saw anything,” he had to admit, a little ashamed. “But I heard that weird cry, I know.”
The thought of his companions waiting on the cold cliff top forced Chet to gather up the creepers and flashlights and go out again. By the time he came to the end of the woods, he was red-faced from running.
“Over here!” Frank called, and Chet hastened along the cliff top to where his friends were waiting.
“Fellows,” he burst out, “there’s another ghost here! I saw it in the woods!”
Joe grinned and took the equipment from his plump friend. “Great joke, Chet, but we’ve heard it before.”
“I’m not kidding! It gave a terrible—”
“We’ve no time to waste,” Frank broke in, hanging a flashlight on his belt. “Get your gear on.” Grumbling, Chet obeyed.
The Mystery of Cabin Island Page 9