“Wait a minute,” Joe said. “Look at this!”
He pointed to the middle where a long strip of grass was a different shade of green.
“Tire tracks!” Rod stated.
“Made by an airplane’s landing gear!” Frank added excitedly.
Chidsee, meanwhile, was marched over to the spot by the two Senecas.
“They had a plane and took off from here?” Frank asked him.
He nodded.
“When?” Frank snapped.
“Just before dawn. They brought me along to help load the false faces into the plane, but it turned out there wasn’t enough room.” Elmont grinned maliciously. “I asked them what they had in all those boxes they had loaded, and Mockton told me it was something for my uncle and none of my business. But I knew!”
“So then they took off without the masks?” Joe asked.
“Right. I was supposed to get some crates and pack them and have them shipped to Montreal, but I didn’t feel like working. I was just hanging around, thinking, when you guys showed up.”
“Where’s the truck?” Frank wanted to know.
“Hidden behind some bushes over there.” The boy pointed.
“Okay,” Frank said. “We’d better alert the police fast!”
“You go on ahead. We’ll bring Elmont with us,” Rod suggested.
Frank, Joe, and Chet raced to the convertible. Tires kicked up pebbles and the trio were off full speed toward Hawk Head.
Frank kept the needle at the speed limit all the way into town and braked to a halt in front of police headquarters. The three rushed inside.
“Chief White!” Frank called out. The man stepped from his office, smiling broadly.
“The thieves flew to Montreal!” Joe blurted.
Chief White nodded, still smiling.
“Well, aren’t you going to do something?”
“Yes,” the officer replied calmly. “I’m going to give you a teletype message. It was received a few minutes ago.”
He handed Frank the message. The boy read it aloud: “‘Seized coins and thieves at Canadian Gold Mining office. Fraud outfit smashed. Thanks for your help. Dad.’ ”
“Wow!” Joe exclaimed. “Dad must have figured they’d come by plane. And he got ’em!”
“That’s why I wasn’t too excited when you told me your news,” Chief White said.
Just then the Jimersons arrived with Chidsee. When White heard the whole story, he looked at the youth. “You realize, of course, that I’ll have to hold you here. But I think the judge’ll go easy on you since you cooperated in this case.”
Chidsee nodded, cast a last glance at the Hardys, and was led away.
Chief White said to Frank, “Your father will arrive by plane in about an hour. Will you pick him up? I’d like to see him here and then we’ll talk further.”
“Sure thing.”
The boys left, and two hours later were settled in the chief’s office again with Mr. Hardy.
“Where are Mockton and Glade, Dad?” Frank asked.
“In the Montreal prison. But they’ll be brought here for trial. The coins are still there, too. As soon as Dr. Rideau identifies them and the trial is over, they’ll be returned to him.”
“I already called the Rideaus and told them,” Chief White put in. “They were mighty happy about it!”
“Mockton and Glade talked,” Mr. Hardy went on. “They implicated Snedeker. He must have been a real tyrant. They hated him but were afraid to break away.”
“Dad, how did the profs ever get involved with the Rideaus?” Joe asked.
“That’s quite a story. Years ago, Mockton’s family owned the Rideau house. As a little boy, Mockton often played in the tunnel under the barn. When Snedeker set up the phony college in Zoar Valley, Mockton engaged rooms for himself and Glade, out of sentimental reasons, mainly. Then he found out about the coin vault and they decided to steal Rideau’s fortune.”
Joe whistled. “Did they, by any chance, cause the accident the Rideaus had?”
“Right. They tinkered with the steering mechanism of the car before the Rideaus left home. If they had been killed or injured, their fortune would have been carted off piece by piece at the profs’ leisure and completely unnoticed.”
“Thank goodness that neat little scheme failed,” Joe remarked.
“What I want to know,” Frank put in, “is how did the profs learn we were coming to visit the Rideaus?”
“Well, after you poked your noses into Snedeker’s affairs in Cleveland, he had his office boy follow you all the way here.”
Now Chet spoke up. “The first night in Hawk Head someone put a charming false face on my chest. Old Broken Nose. Who did that?”
“Glade. You were getting too close for comfort and he wanted to scare you off,” Mr. Hardy replied. “He also dumped a bale of hay on Frank’s cot another time.”
Joe chuckled. “But all in vain.”
Chief White shook his head. “You boys have done a marvelous job. And to think when you first came to see me I thought you were just a couple of wise guys!”
That night the long white frame house at Yellow Springs blazed with lights. Inside, rows of fantastic red and black false faces hung in their usual places on the walls, looking down on the celebration which was under way. Everyone was there and excitement was high.
“These Senecas are ‘real swingers,’ ” Joe said with a grin.
It was all fun. Not a serious moment was to come the Hardys’ way until their next adventure, The Short-Wave Mystery.
Rod Jimerson’s voice rang out loudly over the hypnotic beat of the water drums and turtle rattles. He acted as toastmaster and congratulated the boys for their help in the case. Then he introduced Mr. Hardy to the tribe.
Frank spoke up. “There’s one more question to be answered, in order to fit all the pieces of this mystery together.”
“Go ahead and ask it,” Rod said.
Frank turned to Lendo Wallace. “You came to Chidsee’s motel room. Why?”
“I hoped to meet Mockton there. Wanted to talk him out of the mask deal.” He hesitated. “I was ashamed to take more false faces from my people, even though it was in return for Spoon Mouth.”
“Do not worry,” an old, white-haired Seneca said. “Spoon Mouth is indeed the most treasured thing our tribe possesses and we understand what you tried to do.”
Wallace looked relieved. The kind words had just given him back his dignity. He stepped outside and soon returned with three lacrosse sticks. He presented them to Frank, Joe, and Chet.
Everyone applauded, and Rod asked if there was anything else the boys desired in Seneca country.
Without hesitation Chet spoke up. “Yes. The recipe for your mother’s corn soup. Frank and Joe’s Aunt Gertrude would like it!”
The Melted Coins Page 12