The Secret Agent on Flight 101

by Franklin W. Dixon

“Here’s the roster of UGLI operators!” Joe exclaimed, riffling through a notebook. “Probably these names are in code.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” said Frank. He held up a red leather volume. “Here’s the codebook!”

  “Well,” said Inspector Clyde, entering the room, “that will come in handy when it’s time to round up those UGLI blighters. I saw the tapestry hanging awry and guessed you might have found a hidden door.”

  He stood in amazement at the boys’ discovery. “What a treasure for Scotland Yard, the FBI—”

  “And SKOOL,” Joe spoke up. “UGLI, the biggest undercover subversive operation in the world, cracked wide open!”

  Frank’s enthusiasm was dampened by the fact that some of UGLI’s top men were still at large. “Unless we catch them, they’ll start a new operation somewhere else.”

  “That’s true,” Clyde said, and the others agreed.

  “Then let’s find them!” Joe cried.

  At that moment a constable ushered in McHugh.

  “I returned to Ianburgh to get my plane,” the pilot said, “and flew ’er back here. Thought I might be a wee bit o’ help.” He had landed on an open field close to the castle, he told them.

  “That’s great!” Frank replied eagerly. “Will you fly us to Edinburgh?”

  “Certainly.”

  McHugh was introduced to Dell. The pilot grinned. “Man, ye got a couple o’ fine detective lads here,” he said. “Well, I’m ready to start.”

  Inspector Clyde decided to stay at the castle. “I’d better remain here in case something important pops up on this end.”

  Frank and Joe roused Chet, who rubbed his eyes and stubbornly demanded breakfast.

  “Come on!” Joe urged. “We’ll grab a bite when we land. Chet, wait till you hear what we found!”

  This roused the stout boy and he followed the Hardys and Dell to the plane. All the boys cat-napped during the flight, and later at Edinburgh Airport stoked up on bacon and eggs. Then, while McHugh stayed with the plane, the boys and Dell went to the local police office to reveal Hexton’s daring scheme of robbery the next day.

  The constable on duty, a plump man with reddish hair who introduced himself as Officer Watson, was highly indignant. “Impossible! Thieves could not get within five hundred feet of the Manor without being challenged!”

  “Don’t underestimate Hexton,” Dell warned. “He’s an extremely clever crook.”

  “Now that he knows we’re after him,” said Frank, “he might very well pull the robbery today.”

  “Is Nairn Loch Manor far from here?” Joe inquired.

  “Oh, just a few minutes by car,” Watson replied.

  “Will you come with us?” Dell asked him.

  “Well-all right. But I tell you, this man Hexton hasn’t got a chance!”

  They climbed into Watson’s car and soon arrived at the large, fortress-like structure built of stone. The windows were heavily barred, and the thick oak doors were secured by large iron bolts.

  Watson showed his credentials, then introduced his companions. He asked to see the custodian, Angus Hamilton. The custodian scoffed when he heard about Hexton’s intentions. “Impossible! Utterly impossible!” he asserted. “The Manor is too well guarded.”

  “What about burglar alarms?” Frank asked.

  “A complete system is now being installed,” Hamilton answered. “In fact, the Manor will not be opened to the public until it’s completed.” He grinned. “No, I’m afraid your fears are unwarranted. This Hexton fellow would have to render himself invisible to get onto the premises.”

  “I’m not sure he couldn’t do just that,” Chet mumbled.

  “May we see the jewel collection?” Frank requested.

  “I’ll be happy to show it to you,” Hamilton said with pride.

  He led them down a long hallway. At the far end was a heavy oak door, flanked on each side by a guard. With a large black key the custodian unlocked the door. He ushered the Hardys and their companions into the chamber.

  “You gentlemen,” Hamilton said, “are about to see one of the most splendid collections of—” His voice trailed off, and his face turned ashen. “The jewels!” he gasped. “The jewels! They’re gone!”

  The Hardys ran to the glass cases in which the treasure had been kept. Except for a gold crown and several scepters, the cases were empty!

  “B-but how?” the custodian cried, almost in a state of panic. “I checked the collection just a little while ago!”

  The local constable took command of the situation and questioned the guards. None of them had seen any suspicious strangers in the area. A quick inventory revealed that all the smaller, but extremely valuable jewels were missing.

  “Hexton left the crown and scepters behind because they’re too bulky,” Frank surmised.

  “What’s your guess, Mr. Dell,” asked Joe, “as to the way the thieves got in here?”

  Dell turned to the custodian. “Are there any architectural plans of the Manor available?”

  “Indeed yes. I have them in my files. But if you’re looking for a secret passageway, you won’t have any luck. I’ve studied those plans thoroughly.”

  Watson, meanwhile, had telephoned his office and ordered his men to close off all roads leading out of Edinburgh. Also, airports and piers throughout the country would be alerted at once.

  “Do you think Hexton is headed back to his castle?” Joe asked.

  “If so,” Frank said, “he’ll find quite a welcoming committee waiting for him. But now that he knows the police were there, I’d say he’ll stay away from the place.”

  “We’d better phone Inspector Clyde about the robbery,” said Chet. But when Joe tried to do this, he found there was no telephone at the castle.

  “We’d better fly back there right away,” Frank said.

  Dell announced he must return to the United States. “If Hexton comes there, I’ll be on hand to pursue that part of my assignment.” He said good-by and went off in a taxi.

  Watson drove the boys to the airport, then went back to his office. As the young detectives hurried toward the trimotored plane, they saw that the pilot was already seated in the cockpit. Frank signaled to him and McHugh responded with a not-too-enthusiastic wave of his hand.

  “Something seems to be troubling him,” Joe observed as they climbed into the cabin and slammed the door. The pilot started the engines and the plane began to taxi toward the runway for take-off.

  Frank walked up to the cockpit. “What seems to be the mat—” He stopped abruptly and gasped. Crouched in the seat next to McHugh was Stony Bleeker! He held a gun pointed at the pilot.

  “Get back into the cabin!” Bleeker commanded.

  Frank turned to see two men emerge from beneath a tarpaulin at the rear. Hexton and Vordo!

  “It’s nice of you boys to accommodate us like this,” the magician said with a smirk. “We happened to be in need of fast transportation.”

  “W-when did you get aboard?” Joe stammered. “We thought you’d be a long way from Edinburgh by this time!”

  “Our car broke down on a back road near the airport,” Hexton snapped. “Then Bleeker spotted this plane and we decided to hitch a ride.”

  “Where to?” Joe demanded.

  “We’re all going for a nice little flight to Ireland,” the magician announced sarcastically.

  “I told you I can no’ make it there!” McHugh shouted. “We’ve no’ enough fuel!”

  “Don’t try to fool me!” Bleeker growled. “Your gauges show full tanks!”

  “The gauges haven’t worked for weeks!” the pilot insisted. “I calculate my fuel consumption by the amount of time I fly. And I tell ye, we no’ have enough fuel to make Ireland!”

  Hexton let out a spine-chilling laugh, and eyed the Hardys and Chet. “Your pilot will have to think up a cleverer trick than that, because I don’t intend to go back to my castle and meet your Inspector Clyde!”

  “How do you know about that?” Frank asked.


  The magician’s weird, piercing eyes focused on the boys with a fixed stare. “Bleeker stayed behind when Vordo and I left for Edinburgh,” he replied. “He was there when the constables arrived, and escaped without being seen. Of course he came straight to Edinburgh to warn us.”

  “Incidentally,” Frank put in, “how did you manage to pull off the Manor robbery?”

  “Shut up!” Vordo growled. “You’re asking too many questions!”

  “No, no, Vordo. I don’t mind telling them,” Hexton said boastfully. He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a folded piece of parchment. “This,” he said, “is the architect’s original plan of Nairn Loch Manor. There are copies, of course. But this is the only one showing the secret passageway.”

  “The passageway,” Frank said, “that leads into the chamber where the jewel collection was kept.”

  “Yes, and very convenient for me,” the magician replied smugly, “especially since its entrance is located in a hill nearly a quarter of a mile away. As for this,” he added, tapping the parchment, “it used to be on display in a small private museum, but a master key and a little sleight of hand put it in my pocket.”

  As the plane continued on course, the Hardys noticed that their captors’ jackets bulged and a sealskin pouch jutted from one of Hexton’s pockets. Undoubtedly it contained the stolen jewels!

  A few minutes later McHugh shouted another warning. “We’re leavin’ the coast! We can no’ go any farther!”

  Frank gazed below. They were passing over the west coast of Scotland and heading out over the Irish Sea. Just then the port engine sputtered. Seconds later the center and starboard engines began to quit.

  McHugh whirled the plane in a tight turn back toward the Scottish coast. Leveling the craft out on a reciprocal course, he tightened his grip on the control wheel.

  Frank and Joe stared at the propellers as they windmilled noiselessly in the powerless glide. Below them was the choppy surface of the Irish Sea.

  “I can no’ reach land!” McHugh shouted. “We’re goin’ down. Prepare to ditch!”

  CHAPTER XX

  Desperate Flight!

  MCHUGH flicked his radio transmitter to 121.5 megacycles—the international distress frequency.

  “Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!” he shouted into the microphone. “This is Trimotor—Victor—Victor—Fox! About twenty miles southwest o’ Skip-ness radio! Lost all power! Have t’ ditch!”

  Hexton and his cohorts were pale with fright as they watched the plane sink closer to the water.

  “Quick, lads! Jettison the cabin door!” McHugh ordered.

  Near the door was a red handle. Joe dashed to it and gave a sharp pull. As the door shot off into space, there was a thunderous rush of air through the cabin.

  “Sit with your backs against the forward bulkhead!” the pilot yelled. “Clasp your hands behind your heads and brace yourselves!”

  Everyone took ditching positions. The wait was nerve-shattering. Finally the plane hit the water. It bounced off the surface on first contact, then nosed down into the choppy sea with a violent impact. Water gushed into the cabin. As the boys recovered from the shock, Frank turned to see Hexton pushing himself out through the cabin entrance.

  “We’re sinking fast!” Joe yelled.

  “Look!” Chet shouted. “McHugh’s unconscious!”

  “So are Vordo and Bleeker!” Joe added.

  “We must get them out of here!” Frank declared. “I’ll take McHugh! You two grab the others!”

  Clutching the unconscious men, the boys edged their way to the cabin entrance and pushed themselves clear of the sinking aircraft. They were not too far from land and began swimming.

  Joe, who was dragging Vordo along with him, looked toward the shore just as Hexton reached it. The magician stumbled ahead and disappeared into the tall grass.

  “Hexton’s getting away!” Joe shouted.

  “We’ll have to let him go,” Frank replied. “We can’t let Vordo and Bleeker drown.”

  Chet, meanwhile, was too winded to speak, as he swam doggedly on with his heavy burden. Bleeker was a dead weight. The boys had almost made it to shore when a motor launch of the Air-Sea Rescue Service sped toward them.

  “We received your distress signal,” one of the crewmen shouted as the boat pulled alongside. “Anybody missing?”

  “No,” Joe shouted back. “One man made it to shore.”

  Vordo and Bleeker began to recover as they were hauled aboard the boat.

  “We’d better tie up these two,” Frank said. “They’re jewel thieves.” Rope was produced and the prisoners bound.

  Joe and Chet helped McHugh, who groaned and slowly got to his feet. Grief-stricken, he watched the tail of his plane disappear beneath the surface of the water in a bubbling sea of foam.

  Joe began going through the prisoners’ pockets. “Look!” he cried, holding out several sealskin pouches. They were crammed with jewels.

  “Firsthand evidence,” said Frank. “Hexton must have the rest. Now that his espionage work has been destroyed, he probably figures on living off the haul he made today.”

  “Let’s ask these UGLI’s a few questions,” Joe suggested. He turned to Vordo and Bleeker. “How did you kidnap our father?”

  The two men glared. “You’re getting nothing out of us!” Vordo snarled.

  “That’s tellin’ em, Vordo!” Bleeker snapped. “Too bad the mirror Hexton had you put on the road didn’t work out and that Lou missed with that sandbag. We’d have been rid of these snoopers long ago! And it’s a shame they have a crackerjack pilot who safely landed their plane after you loosened the fuel caps.”

  When the rescue ship reached shore, the prisoners were turned over to the authorities. The others proceeded to Prestwick in a car lent to McHugh by a friend. Regretfully the three boys bid good-by to the brave pilot.

  “You’re tops,” Joe added, and Frank said. “One of the best sports I ever met!” Chet nodded.

  McHugh smiled. “You’re the finest lads I ever knew. Come again sometime and have a ride in my new plane.”

  “We’ll do that,” Chet answered.

  After the pilot had left them, the boys went for a bite to eat. Joe expressed his frustration that Hexton had escaped.

  “Where do you think he’ll go?” Chet asked. “Ireland, like he said?”

  Frank shook his head. “My guess is New York.”

  Joe’s eyes lighted up. “And maybe on Flight 101! It leaves tomorrow morning.”

  Chet snorted, “An UGLI secret agent on Flight 101!”

  “We’re going to be on board, too,” said Frank. “If he’s there, we’ll nab him.”

  The boys informed Inspector Clyde of their plan. They could hardly wait to take off. Next morning they watched intently as the passengers filed aboard.

  “Hey!” Joe exclaimed, nudging his brother. “There’s that same man we saw on our last flight to New York—the one with the dark glasses and whiskers and cane.”

  “Well, he can’t be Hexton in disguise,” Frank commented. “This man’s heavier set.”

  “I don’t see anybody that looks like Hexton,” Chet lamented.

  They observed another elderly bewhiskered man with a cast on his left leg hobble up on crutches. A steward helped him into the plane.

  The boys were the last to go aboard. During the flight the boys studied the other passengers but saw nothing suspicious.

  When the wheels screeched down at Westboro, Joe stretched his arms wearily. “Guess we drew a blank this time.” He sighed.

  At the Great Circle Airways ramp, the passengers began to debark.

  “Let’s keep our seats until everybody’s out,” Frank whispered. “Watch carefully.”

  The plane emptied until only the two elderly men, the three boys, and the steward were left. The man with the cast eased himself onto his crutches and started down the aisle.

  Joe stiffened. “Hey! Did you see that?” he whispered excitedly. “That old man was walking on
his injured leg! I’ll bet he’s a fake.”

  “I saw it too,” Frank replied. He bolted out of his seat and called, “Wait a minute! We want to talk to you!”

  The man stopped abruptly. Then he swung one of his crutches at Frank as the youth darted toward him. The other elderly man sprang from his seat and dealt him a blow with his cane that sent him stumbling up the aisle.

  “Steward,” bellowed the man with the cast, “keep these guys away from me!”

  “That voice!” Joe yelled. “It’s Hexton’s!”

  The steward was about to pounce on Frank, when Chet cried out, “This man’s wanted by the police!”

  Frank leaped at Hexton as the magician again swung his crutch. The young sleuth ducked and lunged forward, crashing into his opponent’s midriff. As Hexton fell, his cast struck a seat and broke open. From it, a cascade of jewels spilled into the aisle. At the same moment several men poured in through the passenger door.

  Among them was Kenneth Dell. “Looks as if you fellows already have things under control.”

  Chet picked up two sections of the cast. “It’s light plastic,” he said, “and looks as if it’s made to come apart.”

  Frank yanked the magician to his feet, and whipped a wig from the man’s head. Then he ripped off Hexton’s false eyebrows and whiskers.

  Joe whistled. “Amazing what a little disguise can do to change a man’s appearance!”

  “You’re right!” said the other elderly man.

  “We want to thank you, sir, for your help,” Joe said gratefully.

  “That’s all right, Joe,” the man replied, chuckling.

  Joe! As the boys looked on in amazement, the man removed his dark glasses and a false beard.

  “Dad!” the young sleuths exclaimed, overjoyed to see their father.

  Then Frank whispered to him, “So you were the secret agent for SKOOL on Flight 101!”

  “Yes,” Mr. Hardy said quietly. His “aged” slouch was gone, and he pulled himself to his full height. “Sorry to keep my whereabouts a secret. But the job was so dangerous I couldn’t risk telling anybody where I was.”

  “You never were in South Africa?”

  “No.”

  Hexton was livid. “You haven’t heard the last of me!” he snarled.