The Stone Idol

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “Let’s make tracks for Hanga Roa,” Frank suggested. “We don’t have to leave a guard on the Inca Chief. It’s not going anywhere.”

  They climbed back into the outrigger canoe and crossed over to Easter Island. After paying the fisherman with a handful of Chilean coins, they went directly to the governor’s residence, where they were shown into his study.

  “I am glad to see you safe and sound,” he said with a smile. “Did my man find you?”

  “He did,” Joe replied. “He also helped us indirectly to find the Inca Chief!”

  “What!” the governor was dumbfounded. “Our search was futile and we finally gave up looking for the plane!”

  “The pilot landed on Motunui,” Frank explained. “We almost caught him, but he escaped.”

  “What about Julio Santana?” the governor asked.

  “He must be around here somewhere,” Frank said. “But we have no idea where.”

  “There was also another passenger on board when they left Punta Arenas,” Joe put in. “I don’t know whether he was dropped off along the coast or whether he came here.”

  “Well, your investigation has been a success so far,” the governor declared. “I will have the Inca Chief brought to the airfield and held there. And I will order a search for Morena and Santana and their passenger. I talked to the leading citizens of Easter Island. They are sure none of the natives stole the idol. That Scandinavian collector must have taken it himself!”

  The Hardys promised to help the police in looking for the suspect, and then returned to the Hanga Roa Hotel.

  “How about some chow?” Joe suggested. “We haven’t had anything all day.”

  “Good thinking. Let’s see what the chef can rustle up for us.”

  When they went and asked the man in charge of the kitchen, he smiled. “I see you are Americans,” he said. “Perhaps you would like hamburgers? Most Americans do.”

  “Great!” Frank said. “And soda, if you have it.”

  “We have that, too. Every week we get supplies from Santiago.”

  Minutes later, Frank and Joe were on their way to their rooms. They sat down on their beds, placed their hamburgers and soda on the night table in between, and plunged into their meal with gusto.

  After a while, Frank said, “What do you suppose Santana’s up to? He’s got the stone idol, but what’s he doing with it? And why did he sneak into Easter Island like this?”

  “He may have sold the stone idol,” Joe pointed out. “We don’t know for sure that he brought it here. On the other hand, he might be in cahoots with Iko Hiva. The wizard wants the idol back, and as long as Santana is willing to give it to him, Iko Hiva in turn might help our friend to get away from us.”

  Frank took a sip from his glass. “Santana can’t hide for long on Easter Island. It’s too small. And he can’t get away either without his plane. By now, he must know we spotted Morena.”

  Joe munched his last bite of hamburger. “What about that passenger they had on the plane?” he asked. “Could he have anything to do with the stone sculpture?”

  Frank shrugged. “I have no idea. I couldn’t see his features at all. Perhaps he’s another relative of Santana’s.”

  “What’ll we do next?”

  “Let’s walk around town and see if we can pick up a clue as to where Santana and Morena are hiding out,” Frank suggested.

  The young detectives scoured the area all afternoon, but found it difficult to communicate with the natives. And there was no sign of the two men anywhere.

  In the morning, as they were coming out of the dining room after breakfast, they saw Iko Hiva sitting in the lobby.

  “I have been waiting for you,” the wizard declared. “I have something important to tell you.”

  “What is it?” Frank asked.

  “The stone idol is back!”

  19 Explanations

  “What!” The Hardys were thunderstruck.

  “The guardian once more stands on the altar in the sacred cave!” Iko Hiva went on. “I went in this morning to replace the candles and there it was. I hope you will come with me and see for yourselves.”

  “Of course,” Joe agreed. “We’ve chased that sculpture a long way, and we don’t want to leave without seeing it where it belongs.”

  “Good. A friend of mine has brought a car. He will drive us.” Iko Hiva led the way outside, where he introduced the boys to another Easter Islander, who was at the wheel of a jeep. The newcomer did not speak English, but, with a friendly smile, he waved for the Hardys to climb into the back of the jeep.

  When they arrived at the cliff, a crowd was gathered near the rope ladder. Two men were climbing up.

  “The idol sure is popular,” Joe commented.

  Iko Hiva nodded. “The people are relieved to know it is back. They came down here as soon as I announced its return. Well, nobody is using the rope ladder now. I suggest you go into the sacred cave.”

  “Joe, what about your vow to stay away from caves?” Frank teased.

  Joe grinned. “I’ve got the aku-aku on my side this time. That’s good enough for me. I’ll even show you the way, Frank.”

  Descending the ladder, the boys reached the entrance to the sacred cave. They crawled through the tunnel in the darkness until they saw the light at the opposite end. At last, they reached the opening guarded by the circle of stone knives.

  Seven new candles were burning brightly on the altar, and the stone figure stood in front of the center candle!

  A feeling of awe came over Frank and Joe as they gazed at the features they had seen before in the photograph. The circular eyes glinted at them in the flickering light, and the fierce scowl seemed to threaten them. The long ears reached to a level with the chin and looked more sinister now than in the office of South American Antiquities back in Santiago.

  “You know something,” Frank said, staring at the idol. “I don’t think he likes us.”

  “I don’t think he likes anybody,” Frank muttered. “Let’s get out of here before he puts the whammy on us.”

  They went back through the tunnel to the mouth of the cave and mounted the ladder to the top of the cliff. The crowd was growing bigger as more people arrived to view the stone idol. Frank and Joe climbed back into the jeep, and their driver started the return trip to Hanga Roa.

  “So you see, the guardian of the sacred cave has come back to us,” Iko Hiva declared.

  “Who put it on the altar?” Joe inquired.

  “The aku-aku,” the wizard replied solemnly.

  An aku-aku named Julio Santana, Frank thought.

  “You will not try to take it away?” the old man went on.

  “No,” Joe assured him. “Not unless we can prove it was sold legitimately. But in order to do that, we’ll have to find the Scandinavian collector who sold it to South American Antiquities. He didn’t want his identity revealed, but at this point he has no choice.”

  The wizard smiled. “That is good. Now you do not have to fear the aku-aku.”

  Frank spoke up. “What if someone steals the idol again? The aku-aku couldn’t prevent it before and might not be able to do it now.”

  Iko Hiva smiled. “Someone will always guard the cave in the future,” he declared.

  When they arrived at the hotel, the boys said good-bye to the wizard and his companion, then went inside. In their room, they discussed the latest developments.

  “Santana must have put the idol back last night,” Frank noted. “He was probably in the sacred cave while we were having our go-round with Morena at Orongo. The bird man stuff was a setup to get us out of the way. I bet it was either Santana or Morena on the phone who disguised his voice and tricked us into going to Orongo.”

  “Then perhaps Santana’s not a thief, Frank! We thought he stole the idol after we found it because he wanted to sell it. Maybe he only wanted to bring it back where it belonged!”

  “You’re right,” Frank said. “Someone else could have stolen it from Kimberley’s bag
in the hotel room, and hidden it in the secret compartment.”

  “And who took it from the sacred cave in the first place?”

  Frank sighed. “For a minute, I thought we’d solved the puzzle, but now we have more questions than ever.”

  “Bertrand’s still a suspect,” Joe declared firmly. “He had the opportunity to take the idol in the hotel room. And he had a motive if he was trying to incriminate Kimberley and grab control of the business. ”

  A knock on the door interrupted the discussion. Joe opened it up and gasped.

  Julio Santana stood on the threshold!

  “May I come in?” he asked pleasantly.

  “Sure,” Joe offered. “We were just talking about you.”

  “I can understand that,” Santana admitted as he sat down. “Much has happened since we met in Santiago. ”

  “Like you and Morena trying to knock us off the bridge into the gorge,” Frank suggested.

  “And fixing our brakes so we’d crack up in the Andes,” Joe added. “Then you disguised your voice on the phone last night and sent your bird man to ambush us at Orongo.”

  “You’re right,” Santana admitted. “But I can explain everything. First of all, I did not tell Morena to attack you. I merely wanted him to frighten you away from Easter Island.”

  “Why?” Frank demanded.

  “I thought you were here to steal the stone idol again. But Iko Hiva just told me you agree it must remain in the sacred cave. So I have come to apologize for mistrusting you. But you must understand that I felt you had stolen the idol when I saw you with it at South American Antiquities. I assumed you and Bertrand were going to sell it illegally. So I seized it and ran. I had to do everything in my power to protect it.”

  “Even if it meant killing us?” Joe challenged.

  “When we followed you into the Andes, you decided to finish us off,” Frank added.

  “Remember, I thought you were thieves. Anyone who takes a sacred idol is not worthy of living. But the aku-aku knew better and protected you. So, you were never in real danger!”

  “Why were you selling sculptures at the stand in your village square?” Frank inquired.

  “I had watched you all the time,” Santana revealed. “I saw you disguise yourselves at Ata Copac’s house and set out for my village. I knew a shortcut and rushed home before you arrived. Then I asked Pedro to let me take over the stall.”

  “But what made you think we’d stop there?”

  Santana smiled. “Anyone looking for a stone figurine would be interested in similar items. I intended to trap you by making you appear as thieves. The villagers have stern punishment for people like that. But you escaped and I went back to Santiago until Pedro could fly me here. He used to be in the Chilean air force and has his pilot’s license.”

  “Why couldn’t he take you right then?” Frank asked.

  “He was in the process of buying the Inca Chief, which he will use for charters. I had to wait until the transfer was completed.”

  “What were you doing in Punta Arenas?” Joe inquired.

  “Pedro had a fare to drop off first. Then we stopped along the coast before we came to Easter Island.”

  “How did you know the stone idol had been taken from the sacred cave?”

  “Iko Hiva wrote and told me while I was working in the oil fields at Punta Arenas.”

  So Iko Hiva didn’t communicate only in spirit as he said, Joe thought. He’s a wizard who pushes a pen. I guess he didn’t want us to know about it until he figured out what we were up to.

  “You see,” Santana went on, “I grew up here, knowing the stone idol as the guardian of the sacred cave. Only the sacrilegious would touch it. When I heard it was gone, I resolved to get it back at any cost. Since South American Antiquities handles more Easter Island artifacts than anybody else, I went to their office and applied for a job.”

  “And, fortunately, Bertrand needed a chauffeur,” Joe said.

  Santana nodded. “I took care of the company cars while trying to find the idol. You got it before I did. That is when I went into action.”

  “You didn’t know it was in the possession of South American Antiquities before that moment?”

  “No. I still don’t know how they obtained it.”

  “Supposedly it was sold to Mr. Kimberley by a Scandinavian collector,” Joe said.

  Santana shrugged. “It’s possible. But what I don’t understand is why you pursued me. I thought you were doing research on the ancient Incas.”

  “That was our cover story,” Frank told him. “We’re really detectives. Mr. Kimberley hired us to find the idol, which had disappeared from his handbag. ”

  “Now I understand,” Santana said. “When I saw you at Punta Arenas airport, I thought Mr. Bertrand had sent you after me.”

  “So you had Morena fly you to Motunui instead of Easter Island,” Joe surmised.

  “Yes. I did not want you to intercept me and seize the idol before I could place it back where it belonged. But since you told Iko Hiva you will not take it away again, I decided to tell you the truth.”

  The Easter Islander took out a handkerchief and dabbed at a cut on the right side of his chin.

  “That’s a bad cut,” Joe observed.

  “I got it in a good cause. One of the knife blades protecting the sacred cave nicked me as I reached through the circle to replace the idol on the altar.”

  He put his handkerchief in his pocket and looked at the Hardys questioningly. “What do you intend to do now?” he asked.

  20 The Final Clue

  Frank and Joe looked at one another. They realized they were thinking the same thing.

  “We understand why you gave us such a rough time,” Frank spoke up. “We’re not about to press charges against you. Or against Morena, either. It was just a foul-up in communications when he conked us at Orongo.”

  “But you’ll have to tell the governor what you told us,” Joe pointed out.

  “I have no objection to that,” Santana stated. “We can go at once.”

  The three walked over to the governor’s residence. Admitted to his office, they found that he already knew from Iko Hiva about the return of the stone idol. Santana then explained that he had put the sculpture back on the altar during the night. He continued with an account of his part in the case. The Hardys added that they were not pressing charges.

  “Then that ends it as far as I’m concerned,” the governor said. “What are your plans now?”

  “I shall stay on Easter Island,” Santana replied. “But I hope you will allow Pedro Morena to fly his plane out again. He picked up a charter fare at Punta Arenas. The man wants to go to Santiago.”

  “Oh, he’s the passenger we noticed sitting behind Morena,” Frank said. “Why did he come to Easter Island with you if he wanted to go to Santiago?”

  Santana shrugged. “He seemed to be afraid of someone. When Pedro told him he had to stop here first, he agreed to come along for the ride just to get out of Punta Arenas. He is an American, by the way.”

  Suddenly Frank had a hunch. “Julio, what’s his name?”

  “Sigmund Muller.”

  Frank and Joe stared at the man. “Muller!” Frank cried out. “He’s wanted by the U. S. military for heading a widespread theft ring!”

  Now it was Santana’s turn to stare. “You mean this man is a criminal?”

  “He sure is,” Joe declared and quickly told about their mission in the Antarctic.

  “Where is Muller now?” the governor demanded after Joe had finished.

  “He is waiting for us to pick him up at the Beach Hotel,” Santana replied.

  “I shall have him arrested at once and brought here,” the governor declared.

  An hour later, two men with police badges on their shirts brought Sigmund Muller into the governor’s office. His eyes bulged when he saw the Hardys and he tried to run, but the two men caught him at the door.

  “What a surprise, meeting you here,” Joe said. “I tho
ught you were supposed to be in San Diego!”

  Muller glared but did not comment.

  “I bet you’d feel better if we had fallen into that crevasse on the way to Outpost I,” Frank said. “Your pal, Al Ambrose, made another attempt on our lives, but failed. He was arrested and confessed everything!”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Muller said sullenly.

  “Your theft ring is exposed and we know you’re the leader,” Joe told him. “No confession is necessary for your arrest.”

  Muller shrugged. “You’ll have to prove it.”

  “Don’t worry, we will. And I’m sure Admiral Langton will be happy that we found you.”

  “Governor, is there some way you can hold this man for the U. S. military?” Frank asked. “If you get in touch with Admiral Langton at Byrd Base in Antarctica, he’ll arrange for the transfer.”

  “I certainly can,” the governor replied. “We have a jail on the island, even though it is very small.”

  “Mr. Muller, I’m curious about one thing,” Joe said. “Why did you stay in Punta Arenas a whole day, and then take a charter plane to Easter Island?”

  Muller realized he was defeated. “I was looking for a friend, who I thought could help me,” he replied. “Unfortunately, I didn’t find him. When I spotted U. S. military police at the airport, I panicked. I didn’t dare book on a commercial airliner, so I found Morena and decided to go with him no matter where he went.”

  “How’d you ever expect to get back to the United States?” Frank asked.

  “I have contacts in Santiago who might have helped. ”

  The governor called Byrd Base and spoke to the admiral, who promised to notify Mr. Hardy that Muller had been found. “I’ll submit the necessary extradition papers for Muller and have him picked up,” the commander added.

  As Muller was led away, the governor turned to the boys. “We would be very happy to entertain you for a while on our island if you’d care to stay,” he said.

  Frank shook his head. “We still have work to do on the idol case. May I call Mr. Bertrand in Santiago?”

  “Of course.”