The Clue of the Hissing Serpent

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Krassner said. “What’s happening to me is a frightful, dark mystery. I need your help!”

  Frank tried to ease Krassner’s obvious tension and chuckled. “Speaking of frightful things, Mr. Krassner, we sure had an odd experience on the way over here.”

  “That’s right,” Joe added. “A crazy-looking balloon with a fantastic snake design flew over our heads like a hissing serpent.”

  “What? You saw it, too?” Krassner’s face turned ghastly white against the pillow.

  “Are you having another attack?” Frank asked, worried.

  The man did not reply. Instead he pressed a small buzzer half concealed beneath the sheet and the maid appeared like a genie.

  “Please see the boys out,” Krassner murmured. ‘I don’t think I can take any more conversation tonight.”

  “I’m sorry if we upset you, sir,” Joe said.

  “No, no. It wasn’t you. See you later.”

  The man waved a pudgy hand and the Hardys were escorted to the front door. When it clicked shut behind them, they were silent for a mo ment.

  Then Joe said, “I don’t get it. Every time he wants to tell us what bothers him, he becomes so upset that he can’t.”

  “He must have seen that balloon, too, and for some reason it scared the wits out of him. I wonder why,” Frank mused.

  “By the way, is he married? Did Chet ever mention it?”

  “No. All he said is that Krassner’s rich. And he wasn’t kidding.”

  A crescent moon hung low in the dark sky as the Hardys went to their car. Joe drove to the main road and they hummed along toward Bayport. Suddenly Frank said, “There’s that noise again!”

  Joe took his foot off the accelerator and listened. They glanced up, but could see no balloon. The sound was coming from the back of their car!

  Joe stopped quickly and they hopped out. “Look,” Frank said, pointing to the tail pipe. Fire was shooting from it, accompanied by a hissing sound.

  “Turn the engine off, Joe!”

  But before Joe could move—blam! An explosion rocked the car and pieces of metal clattered to the roadway.

  “What the dickens happened?” Joe blurted out.

  “Get the flashlight and you’ll see,” Frank said.

  They slid underneath the car and assessed the damage. The blast had ripped open the tail pipe, muffler, and resonator.

  “They’re blown apart,” Frank said. “Somebody put a charge into the tail pipe!”

  The boys picked up some of the metal debris and tossed it into the trunk.

  “Who could have done it?” Joe asked. “Do you suppose Krassner was involved?”

  “It’s possible,” Frank said. “Or maybe Jervis or his buddies were following us.”

  “How about the serpent balloon people? They didn’t seem too fond of us, either.”

  “Well,” Frank said, “speculation will get us nowhere right now. Let’s see if this heap will go.”

  The engine started up, but the racket it made was fierce.

  “It sounds like a machine gun,” Joe quipped. “Hop in, Frank. The sooner we get home the better.”

  The Hardys drove on through the night, hoping to reach Bayport without further incident. Going through the village of Allendale, Joe slowed down in an effort to mute the exhaust.

  “Hope we don’t wake up everybody,” he said as the car picked up speed once more.

  Two miles farther on, a siren sounded behind them. Joe glanced into the rear-view mirror to see the revolving roof light of a police car.

  “Frank, here comes trouble.” He pulled to the side of the road, stopped, and got out.

  An officer, hardly older than the Hardys, emerged from the squad car.

  Frank and Joe walked up to him. “Is there something wrong, Officer?” Frank asked.

  The policeman looked grim. “What were you trying to do?” he said. “Wake up the whole town? You drove through it like gangbusters.”

  “Oh,” Frank said, “we’re sorry about the noise. Had trouble with the muffler. In fact, it blew apart. We’re heading for Bayport for repairs.”

  “Don’t you know it’s against the law, riding without a muffler?”

  “We know,” Joe said. “But the accident happened only a little while ago. We’ll stop at the next gas station.”

  “They’re all closed,” the policeman said.

  “Well, what do you want us to do?”

  “I’m taking you to headquarters.”

  “Officer,” Frank said, “we’re not lying to you. The muffler blew apart just down the road!”

  “Where’s your driver’s license?”

  Joe handed it to him and the policeman studied it. “Hardy,” he said. “The name sounds familiar.”

  “Our father is Fenton Hardy, the detective,” Frank explained.

  “That cuts no ice with me. You think that entitles you to privileges?”

  “We don’t want any privileges. Just give us a break so we can get this muffler fixed.”

  “Tell it to the magistrate,” came the unyielding reply. “And now get in that bomb and follow me!”

  Disgusted, the boys returned to their car and drove after the policeman to Allendale. He pulled up in front of an old house which had been converted into headquarters.

  Inside, a small light illuminated the sparse office. The officer motioned for the Hardys to sit down, then made a phone call. Ten minutes later an elderly man arrived.

  He was wearing pajamas under a light coat and looked suspiciously at Frank and Joe. “What’s up?” he demanded.

  “The charge is disturbing the peace while driving without a muffler,” the officer said. To the Hardys he explained, “This is the magistrate.”

  Without listening to the boys’ side of the story, the man declared, “Fine is twenty-five dollars.”

  “But we don’t have that much with us,” Frank said.

  “Then we’ll have to lock you up. Besides, you can’t drive that car. It’s got to be towed away!”

  CHAPTER V

  Cat Trap

  JOE was visibly frustrated. He started to reply, but Frank realized that saying the wrong thing would make matters even worse.

  “Cool it,” he whispered to his brother. Then he turned to the magistrate. “Don’t you think this is a bit much, sir? We haven’t got the money to pay the fine and on top of that we can’t even drive the car. What do you suggest we do?”

  “That’s your problem,” the judge replied with a curt wave of the hand. “The law’s the law. You stay here till that fine is paid.” With that he walked out the door.

  “Being such a small town,” the officer said, “we just have one cell. Get the money up or in you go!”

  “May I use the telephone?” Frank asked.

  “Sure. Calling your lawyer?” the policeman asked.

  “Of course not. I’m going to talk to my father.”

  Aunt Gertrude answered, and to Frank’s dismay told him that Mr. Hardy was not home yet. But she detected the frustration in her nephew’s tense question.

  “Are you in trouble?” she asked, then answered her own question, “Yes, you’re in trouble. I can tell by your voice. Laura, get on the extension. The boys are in trouble!”

  Frank heard a click, then his mother said, “What’s the matter, Frank?”

  “We’ve been arrested.”

  Both women gasped. “What for?” Mrs. Hardy asked.

  “The muffler broke. The car makes an awful racket and the law says you can’t drive like that.”

  Frank explained where they were and his mother said, “That’s a shame. It would only be a short drive home.”

  “Makes no difference in this place,” Frank said quietly. “We need twenty-five dollars to pay the fine and we’ll have to get the car towed.”

  Joe gave his brother a nudge. “Ask Mother to get in touch with Tony Prito. He can pick up the money and rescue us with his father’s truck.”

&nb
sp; Frank nodded and passed on the information.

  “I’ll call Tony right away,” Mrs. Hardy promised.

  The policeman allowed the boys to sit in the office while they were waiting. An hour later a half-ton pickup stopped in front of the building. Out stepped Tony Prito, a handsome boy with black curly hair, whose father owned a construction company.

  “Are we glad to see you!” Joe greeted him. “This hasn’t been our day!”

  “Always call Prito for immediate service,” Tony quipped. He handed Frank the money to pay the fine. Then the boys went out, put a tow-line from the truck to the car, and drove back to Bayport.

  When they arrived at the Hardy house, Tony said, “Biff and I will help you make the repairs tomorrow, okay?”

  “Thanks,” Joe said. “We’ll go down to the auto store first thing in the morning and get the parts.”

  Mr. Hardy had come home half an hour earlier and listened while his sons told about the weird balloon, the strange visit to Krassner, and the explosive charge in their tail pipe.

  “Krassner sounds like a man in trouble,” Mr. Hardy said. “Did he give any inkling of what’s bothering him?”

  “Nothing, Dad,” Frank replied.

  “Well, boys, it’s after midnight. Let’s hit the sack and talk more about this tomorrow.”

  The next morning after breakfast Frank and Joe went to an auto store and returned with the necessary parts to repair their car.

  Biff and Tony were already waiting with a couple of heavy-duty jacks, and soon they were busy at work underneath the automobile.

  At lunchtime Mrs. Hardy brought out sandwiches. The boys got cleaned up and took a half-hour break, then continued with their installation. By one o’clock they had still not finished.

  Joe said, “Frank, why don’t you go over to the Snyders’, and I’ll stay here until the job’s done?”

  “Good idea,” Frank agreed. He washed the grease from his hands, took a shower, and put on clean clothes. He entered the Snyders’ house shortly before the salesman was scheduled to arrive.

  “I found a good place for you to hide,” Mrs. Snyder said. “Near the entrance of the living room is a closet with sliding doors. Get in there and peek out when the man comes.”

  “Thank you,” Frank said. “That’s just perfect.”

  The bell rang. “Get inside, hurry!” the woman said and went to answer it.

  Frank hid in the closet and closed the doors, leaving only a small crack through which he could observe the living room.

  Mrs. Snyder walked in with a stocky man. He had a large black mustache and a beard, and introduced himself as Mr. Horgan.

  Mrs. Snyder beckoned him to sit down on the sofa. He did, putting a sample case on the floor. Then he opened the bag and revealed a large selection of costume jewelry.

  “Here are your earrings, ma’am,” he said. “A present from Associated Jewelers.”

  Mrs. Snyder accepted the gift graciously and put them on.

  “They’re lovely,” Horgan said, beaming. “Now look at these other things, ma’am.”

  The woman examined the baubles which Horgan showed her. She tried on a necklace, held brooch after brooch to her dress to study the effect, and slipped several rings onto her fingers.

  Horgan looked up nervously once in a while. Then he stood up and walked to the window.

  “Are you expecting someone?” Mrs. Snyder asked.

  “No, no. It’s just not my nature to sit still.” Horgan smiled. “Now which of these beautiful pieces of jewelry would you like to buy?”

  At this point Frank became aware of something he had not noticed before. He felt a slight movement in the darkness and reached out. The tail of a cat gently brushed past his leg!

  “Good grief!” Frank thought. “Another one. They’re even in the closet.”

  The animal wanted to get out and began scratching on the door. Frank picked up the cat, hoping to keep it quiet, while Horgan went on with his sales spiel.

  “Get inside, hurry!” Mrs. Snyder said.

  He would give Mrs. Snyder a lovely brooch if she would allow a friend to fit Mr. Snyder for a Hong Kong custom-tailored suit.

  “You see, ma’am, the cost of labor in Hong Kong is very cheap and the tailors are excellent. My friend can take your husband’s measurements, airmail them to Hong Kong, and deliver the suit in about four weeks.”

  “I’ll have to ask Ralph about it,” Mrs. Snyder said. “Wait a moment. I’ll be right back.”

  When she left the room, Horgan walked to the window again and looked out with a nervous expression.

  Frank’s mind whirled. “Associated Jewelers must have taken on a new line—Hong Kong suits,” he thought. “I wonder if it’s legitimate. Maybe it has something to do with that tailoring racket Dad’s working on.” He felt a tickle in his nose and suppressed a sneeze.

  He still held the cat in his arms, but now it strained to get free, meowing loudly. Horgan cocked his head to listen.

  Frank muffled another sneeze. Suddenly he knew why. The cat’s furl He must be allergic to it.

  Horgan turned and stared at the closet. The cat, meanwhile, clawed Frank’s arm and yowled. He had to sneeze again. His eyes began to water, and he felt as if he were choking. “It’s no use,” he thought. “I need air.” He opened the doors, sneezing loudly, and the cat flew out, landing in the middle of the living room.

  The effect on Horgan was electric. His eyes bulged wide and his jaw dropped open. When he realized he was being spied on, the salesman let out an oath and dashed out of the house!

  CHAPTER VI

  A Risky Chance

  FRANK watched the man jump into his car and speed away as Mrs. Snyder came back into the living room.

  “What happened?” she asked. “Why did Mr. Horgan run off like that? And he left his case!”

  Frank quickly explained and showed Mrs. Snyder the scratches on his arm.

  “Did Princess do that? Oh dear! I’ll get some antiseptic.” She returned a few minutes later and daubed Frank’s arm.

  “What are you going to do with that sample case?” she asked.

  “Use it for evidence,” Frank replied. “Maybe we can identify that salesman through his finger prints. I’m sure Horgan uses an alias.”

  Frank took out his handkerchief and clicked the case shut. “If he comes back for it, tell him it’s being delivered to Associated Jewelers. And thanks for your help, Mrs. Snyder.”

  When he arrived home, the repair work on the car was done and Biff and Tony had left. Frank went up to their father’s comfortable study, where he found the detective talking to Joe.

  “Dad, tell Frank what you found out,” Joe urged.

  Mr. Hardy sat back in his swivel chair and smiled. “The Hong Kong tailoring racket I’m supposed to crack is tied in with various jewelry sales operations. When the jewelry business slacks off, they offer to have their customers measured for a suit.

  “After they receive the down payment, the clothing is never delivered. By the time the customers catch on, the swindlers have skipped town.”

  “What are you grinning at?” Joe asked his brother.

  “I found out the same thing.”

  “At the Snyders’?”

  “Right. And here’s the sample case of an Associated Jewelers salesman.”

  “That ought to be a real good clue,” Mr. Hardy said. “You didn’t disturb the fingerprints, I hope.”

  “No. I was careful about that,” Frank replied.

  Joe went for their fingerprint kit and set to work dusting the black plastic covering of the sample case. Horgan had provided them with a neat set of prints of both his left and right hands.

  “We’ll take these down to headquarters. Maybe Chief Collig can find out whether Horgan really is who he says.”

  “What I don’t understand,” Frank said, “is why Smith and Jones, who are obviously connected with Associated Jewelers, wanted to bug Greene’s phone. I mean, that’s out of their line.”

&nb
sp; “We assumed that they worked for Jervis because he acted so strange when we mentioned their names,” Joe said. “Maybe we were wrong.”

  “But they also wanted to meet Radley at the Treat Hotel, where Associated Jewelers had a sales meeting,” Frank said. “It’s just too much coincidence.”

  “And Krassner’s an enigma, too,” Mr. Hardy added. “You said he was a chess player himself. Maybe there’s a connection between him and Greene.”

  Joe sighed. “And where do those crazy balloonists come in? And who blew up our tail pipe?”

  “Questions and no answers,” Frank said. “What do we do next?”

  “Take the fingerprints to the police first thing in the morning,” the detective said. “And keep Associated Jewelers under surveillance.”

  “There’s a vacant building right across the street,” Joe said. “Maybe we could use that to spy on them.”

  “By the way, Dad, did you warn Conrad Greene about the bug?” Frank asked.

  “I tried but no one’s home yet.”

  Just then the doorbell rang. It was Chet. “I have some good news,” he said brightly.

  “No kidding,” Frank said. “Did you get your balloonist’s license?”

  “No, not yet. But Mr. Krassner feels better and wants to see you.”

  “When and where?” Joe asked.

  “Tomorrow afternoon at the clubhouse. Can you make it?”

  “Sure. We’ll be there.”

  The next morning the Hardys took the fingerprints to Chief Collig. He was a heavy-set, slow-talking man, who had cooperated with the Hardys on many cases.

  When Frank and Joe told their story, he congratulated them on their detective work. “We’ll take the sample case to Associated Jewelers to see Jervis’s reaction,” Frank said. “Is that okay with you, Chief?”

  “Sure. Go ahead. If the prints tell us anything, I’ll let you know.”

  When they arrived at Jervis’s office, the receptionist told them that her boss was out.

  “Well, we have something that belongs to him,” Frank said. “When will he be back?”

  “Wait a moment,” she said and walked out of the room. A few seconds later she returned. “He’s in now,” she said.