But the chief and his deputy were stunned by the swift-moving events. Before the men could collect their wits, the Hardys had twisted open the tops of the capsules.
Two rubies dropped into Frank’s hand!
Joe’s capsule contained a tightly folded note, which he opened and read aloud:
“‘Twelve a’s gone. Spies here. We’re leaving island. Advise you move at once.”’
Chief Barton stared in amazement. Turning to Cullen, he demanded, “What does this mean?”
But Cullen was already fleeing pell-mell over the rocks.
“I guess that proves he’s guilty!” Joe exclaimed. “Twelve a’s must mean those aliens who left here in the dory!”
Stuffing the note into his pocket, he dashed after Cullen, with the police at his heels. The chase was soon over. As the fugitive attempted to get away in a motorboat hidden in a cove, he was caught and marched back.
“I guess you’re not innocent after all,” said Chief Barton. “But you sure had me fooled.”
Cullen looked with hatred at the Hardys. “You idiots!” he snarled. “I’ll get you for this!”
Frank suggested to the officers that they pick up the other smuggler at once. Silently he and Joe hoped the man had not been able to loosen his bonds and send a radio message!
Joe hooded the falcon and led the way to the second cabin. They found the man on the floor, still bound and gagged. Chief Barton stared at him, then exclaimed in amazement:
“Arthur Daly! You’re mixed up with the smug glers, too!” He turned to the boys and remarked, “Mr. Daly owns one of the most successful lobster businesses in this area.”
The Hardys did not comment, but Frank said, “I suggest you handcuff these men.”
At a gesture from Barton, Deputy Richards took care of this detail. Then the chief advised his prisoners of their rights. Both sullenly declared they did not want a lawyer.
“How about telling us the truth now about this whole thing!” Barton said. “We’ll find it out anyhow.”
The men refused to talk, but the Hardys explained what they knew of the illicit entries of the Indians, the kidnapping of Tava Nayyar, and the ransom demanded in rubies.
“The pigeons carried the stones and notes from here to their home cote,” said Joe. “And that’s the next place we’ll have to locate.”
Barton shook his head in amazement. “And we had no idea that something like this was going on at Windward!”
His deputy nodded. “You two have done quite a job!”
“We’ll take these men to jail and notify the Federal authorities,” Barton said. He suggested that they all proceed to town at once. Carrying the falcon and the three remaining pigeons, the group headed for the jeep.
Barton promised to station men at Windward to arrest any smugglers who might show up.
Back at Venus Village, the once respected islanders were put in cells, then Barton dispatched special deputies to the Windward area. Next, he talked by phone to the immigration authorities. Ten minutes later, a broad smile on his face, he leaned back in his chair and said:
“Things are moving along fine. Federal men will be out soon to take over.”
“Good,” said Joe. “And now may I phone the Coast Guard? I want to find out what happened to the friends who came out here with us.”
“Go ahead,” the chief replied.
At the first words of Lieutenant Commander Wilson, who answered, Joe looked relieved. He put his hand over the mouthpiece and said to Frank, “They caught Flont and his two crewmen as well as those twelve smuggled aliens! They’re at the Coast Guard station now.”
As Joe listened intently to the lieutenant commander he sobered. When he hung up the phone, he reported that there was no news of their friends. Flont would not say whether he had fired on them before his capture. A Coast Guard helicopter was out now searching for the Sleuth.
The Hardys were worried. Frank asked, “Chief, could someone take us back to the mainland right away?”
“Sure thing,” Barton agreed. “I’ll run you to Bayport myself in my own motorboat. And, say, will you fellows take these pigeons? I don’t know what to do with ’em and you might find the birds useful.”
“Okay. We will,” said Frank.
Barton kept his boat in good shape, and a little over an hour later, the chief, Frank and Joe, the hooded hawk and the three pigeons were speeding across Barmet Bay toward Bayport.
Joe, who had been scanning the water through binoculars, suddenly called, “There’s the Sleuth now, Frank!”
About a quarter of a mile ahead was the Hardys’ boat. Barton sounded his siren and minutes later he drew alongside the Sleuth.
“You all right?” Frank and Joe asked.
Upon being assured that Chet, Tony, Biff, and Radley were unharmed, Frank introduced the police chief.
Chet, his eyes bulging, exclaimed,“You got the falcon back! And are those the smugglers’ pigeons?”
“They sure are,” Barton replied. “And we got the ringleaders behind bars, too!”
Frank and Joe let the last statement go un-challenged, even though they knew the hardest part of the case——catching the real ringleaders— still faced them. They told their friends that Captain Flont had been captured, then asked what had happened to the group in the Sleuth.
“We g-got fired on,” Chet answered promptly. “The captain missed, thank goodness, and he didn’t try again. I don’t know why.”
“Because Frank short-waved him not to,” Joe said, and explained about the radio message. “Then what happened?”
Tony, Chet, and Biff tried to tell the story at the same time. Quickly Radley summarized the situation.
“We picked up the trail of the Daisy K shortly after I swam back to the Sleuth. Flont had already taken aboard the smuggled Indians from the dory. He had a long-range rifle and we were his target! I think Flont fired the first shot to scare us, because I don’t see how he could have missed!
“Before he could follow it up with another, Frank’s message must have reached him. Anyway, he stopped firing and started off, full speed ahead. When we followed, he kept the rifle trained on us. We finally gave up the chase, deciding to make a wide sweep around him, then race to shore and send the Coast Guard out for the Daisy K.”
Radley went on to say that as they headed for a cove, the Sleuth ran out of gas. “And to make matters worse,” he continued with a wry smile, “the emergency fuel can was empty.”
The operative said that another boat had finally come by. As it was transferring fuel, the Coast Guard helicopter flew over, hovered above them, and dropped a note instructing them to proceed to Bayport.
When Frank and Joe finished comparing notes with their friends on the night’s adventures, the Hardys climbed into their own boat, taking the birds with them. The police chief promised to keep them informed of developments on the island.
As soon as they reached Bayport, Radley and the Hardys headed for the Coast Guard station. There Lieutenant Commander Wilson was questioning the prisoners, who had been properly advised of their rights. He had been in touch with Washington, and was impressed with the importance of the capture. He looked up as Frank, Joe, and Radley entered and motioned them toward empty chairs alongside his desk.
Captain Flont glared at the Hardys as he was asked to repeat his statement.
“I’ve told you a dozen times I’m innocent,” he declared. “I didn’t know those Indians were aliens. Someone radioed to me that a party of picnickers had been stranded on Venus Island. They offered to pay me my usual fishing fee to bring them back to Bayport.”
Radley asked, “Why did you fire on the Sleuth?”
Flont was ready with an answer. “You were following us, and it made my passengers nervous. I just fired in the air to scare you.”
Frank walked over to the group of aliens and asked if any of them spoke English. One young man came forward.
Before he could say anything, Flont’s face turned purple with anger and he s
houted, “You men keep your mouths shut!”
The Indian looked frightened, turned, and talked with the other aliens for some time. Then he faced Frank with determination. “We pay these men lot of money for bring us to this country. Now bad trouble. We want to go home!”
Frank said to the lieutenant commander, “I guess you’ve got your evidence.”
“One more question,” said Joe, looking at the young Indian. “While you were with these men who were trying to smuggle you in, did you ever hear anything about the kidnapping of Tava Nayyar?”
The spokesman shook his head. “Know nothing. What bad men do this?”
Joe did not answer the question. The Coast Guard officer thanked the Hardys and Sam Radley for their help, then the three departed. The operative decided to return to Windward. He would wait for the Federal authorities and give them all available information on the case.
The boys went to the Bayport Hotel and immediately got in touch with their father in Washington. He was delighted with the turn the case had taken, and promised to fly home at once. He would ask Mr. Delhi, who had arrived from New York the day before, to accompany him. Working together, the detective said, they ought to be able to locate Tava and wind up the case.
When the call was completed, Frank said, “Joe, I have a hunch we can find the mainland hideout by the time Dad and Mr. Delhi get here.”
“How?”
Frank indicated the three cages with the pigeons in them. “We’ll turn these birds loose from three different parts of the surrounding country-side and keep an eye on them with our glasses. If we map their lines of flight, they’ll serve as bases for a triangulation fix.”
“That’s a swell idea,” Joe agreed, “but first let’s have lunch. I’m starved.”
Immediately after a hearty meal, the boys began their work. Joe found a piece of paper, similar to those on which the other messages had been written, and printed:SIT TIGHT. EVERYTHING OKAY THIS END.
He folded the message and inserted it in one of the capsules they had collected.
Meanwhile, Frank had hurried to see their jeweler friend. Mr. Bickford supplied him with four imitation rubies that would lull the suspicions of the kidnappers until the showdown.
When Frank returned, he and Joe went to the roof of the hotel. From there they released the first pigeon with the message capsule. The boys watched the bird circle, then they lined up its course with a compass and marked the exact direction.
They divided the rubies between the two remaining pigeons. Joe took one bird five miles north of Bayport while Frank went five miles south with the other. When the boys returned to the hotel they compared notes and marked the chart again. Both grinned in satisfaction as they looked at the spot where the three lines crossed.
“I guess we’ve pinpointed the hideout,” said Frank. “It’s at the top of Lion Mountain.”
The almost inaccessible spot was about twenty-five miles from Bayport, and it was reputed that mountain lions once had inhabited it. A few years ago the boys had climbed to the top and knew that it was a rugged hike.
“Frank,” Joe said, “I think you and I should investigate Lion Mountain at once.”
“You mean not wait for Dad?”
“We can’t wait, Frank. If Bangalore and Nanab learn that Flont has been captured, and realize their whole plot is falling apart, I’m afraid they’ll take revenge on Tava!”
“You mean kill him?”
“Yes.”
Frank nodded. “We’ll go at once.”
CHAPTER XIX
Confessions
THE boys told their mother of the proposed plan and gave her the pinpointed map for Mr. Hardy. She said she would agree to their going only on one condition. They were to do nothing more than try to get word to Tava and help him to escape.
“Leave the capture of those smugglers and kidnappers to your father and the police,” she said.
Frank and Joe promised they would. As they were about to depart, a telephone call came from Radley, who reported that the two men who ran the dory had been captured while docking it at Daly’s lobster pound.
“Well, that settles everything at this end,” the operative said. “I’ll be back shortly.”
The boys told him their plan, and he wished them luck. When they arrived at the near side of Lion Mountain, Frank parked the convertible where it would not be spotted and they started off on foot.
“I wonder how near the top the hideout is,” Frank remarked. “Think we’d better circle the mountain to see if we can pick up a clue?”
“Yes. But I’ll bet it’s near the summit,” said Joe.
“On the other hand,” Frank said, “they might be nearer the bottom so that they could get away in a hurry if necessary.”
The boys had nearly completed the circle before they found a clue. It was an indistinct trail and led upward.
Frank and Joe proceeded cautiously, constantly on the lookout for any traps. Half a mile up the trail, Frank spotted a suspicious-looking pile of leaves and twigs in the path. Picking up a long stick, he gently poked at the leaves and uncovered a bear trap.
“Wow!” Joe said softly as Frank threw a stone at it, springing the trap. “Did the smugglers or some trapper set that?”
Frank thought that probably the smugglers had. Farther on, they came across an uprooted tree cleverly braced into position, with its roots and a taut rope stretched across the trail, covered with earth and leaves. But it was ready to fall on anyone who might happen to trip over the rope.
About a half mile from the top in an open section, the boys came to a barbed-wire fence. It was about eight feet high and the upper strands were tilted outward, making it almost impossible to scale.
“Look!” whispered Joe from the shelter of the trees. “That fence is electrified!”
“It probably has a charge heavy enough to knock a fellow out,” Frank remarked. “I’ll bet it sets off an alarm, too.”
“What a way to be stymied,” said Joe.
Frank looked through the fence, his eyes probing the trees beyond. No one was in sight.
“What do you say we pole-vault over, Joe? Eight feet isn’t too high.”
“We’ll do it,” Joe said with determination. “About a hundred yards back I saw some saplings that had blown down. We can use them.”
He located two stout saplings which suited their purpose. One he tossed over the fence to use when coming back. Meanwhile, Frank had dug a heel hole just short of the fence and braced it with fiat stones.
“I’ll go first,” said Joe.
“Be careful,” Frank warned. “Don’t hit that fence!”
Joe ran forward lightly, hit the heel hole with a slight thud, and whipped up and over the fence. Frank grabbed the pole to keep it from striking the barrier.
Frank’s jump was a bit trickier than Joe’s, because he had to thrust back on the pole to keep it from hitting the fence and sounding the alarm.
The boys knew the hardest part of their job lay ahead. Through the scrubby bushes and trees they could see several crudely constructed huts. Near one of them stood a handsome, pensive-looking youth about eighteen years old. He was holding a hooded goshawk. From the color of his skin and his characteristic features the Hardys were sure he was an Indian.
The boy must be Tava!
Some distance from the youth were several dark-skinned men. They were no doubt some of the smuggled Indians.
In the shelter of the trees, the Hardys crawled toward Tava. When they were close enough to talk to him without revealing themselves to the others, Frank called in a whisper:
“Tava!”
As the young man turned and stared, Frank smiled and went on quickly, “We are Frank and Joe Hardy, American friends sent here by your cousin Bhagnav.”
The youth moved slowly toward the boys and asked in a low voice, “Why does Bhagnav send you here?”
“To rescue you from your kidnappers.”
“But I was not kidnapped,” Tava explained. “Evil men
are after me, and my friends are protecting me.”
“That’s not true,” Frank insisted. “Your father has already paid a fabulous ransom in rubies for your return, but these people continue to hold you and demand more payment.”
Tava still did not seem to be convinced. Finally Frank said:
“Your cousin and your friend Rahmud Ghapur are very much worried. Mr. Bhagnav has engaged my father and brother and me to search for you. Mr. Ghapur told us of the time when he saved you in the cheetah hunt. He’s afraid that you’re in much greater danger now.”
The boy’s eyes widened in surprise. He whispered the name Ghapur several times. Then he replied:
“If Rahmud Ghapur and my cousin sent you, then I will go with you.”
“Act as if you were just strolling around and follow us,” Frank directed.
The Hardys crawled away. The Indian followed slowly, laughing and talking to the goshawk all the while. When the three were well out of sight of the buildings, and close to the fence, Joe said:
“I’m afraid you’ll have to leave the goshawk here for now. When your abductors learn of your disappearance, they’ll start a search. We may become separated. If this happens, take our car and meet us at the Bayport Hotel. My mother and aunt are staying there. Ask for Mrs. Hardy.” He added detailed directions about the location of their hidden car and directions for reaching the hotel.
Tava regretfully fastened his goshawk’s leash to a tree, picked up the pole, and gracefully vaulted the fence. He moved off quickly into the shadows of the trees beyond. Joe, pole in hand, was getting set to make his jump when Frank heard someone running.
“Jump, Joe!” Frank whispered tensely. The next second, a lariat slapped over his shoulders and he was pulled back.
As he hit the ground, Frank caught a glimpse of his brother halfway up in his leap. But suddenly Joe was snatched violently in mid-air. Frank, his heart sinking, knew Joe had been lassoed, too.
A half-dozen fiery-eyed men gripped both boys roughly and dragged them toward one of the buildings. They were thrust through the doorway into a well-furnished room, and confronted by two young Indians who resembled each other strongly. One, however, had a scar on his chin.
The Hooded Hawk Mystery Page 11