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Without answering, Frank hurtled past his brother and dove headlong into the water. A moment pa.s.sed before his head popped up again. "Mosquitoes," he sputtered. "I thought they'd eat me alive!"
Joe couldn't hold down his laughter. "I thought you had seen a ghost!" he bellowed, then doubled up in laughter again at the thought of his usually composed brother running like a madman from an army of mosquitoes.
Frank, although covered with bites, had to smile himself. "Okay, okay," he said at last. "That's enough.
What about the motor?"
Joe's grin left his face. "I'll need tools to get it working, and they're back at the camp. Luckily, though, I found oars wedged under the seat. At least we can row back."
Taking turns at the oars, the sleuths made their way toward camp.
As the bluffs drew closer, Frank pointed ahead. "Doesn't that look like a 'V' to you?"
Joe stopped rowing and gazed at the face of the bluff. A huge letter "V" was cut in the yellow clay, extending from the top of the cliff almost to the water. "One of those grooves must have been what we used to climb down to the beach last night," he deduced. "What do you think it means?"
"Maybe it's the Roman numeral for five, or 'V' for victory," Frank guessed.
Stumped by the purpose of the huge letter, the boys continued rowing. By the time they arrived at camp, the sun had set. They were both sunburned and exhausted, and hoped Chet had a meal waiting for them.
Neither Chet nor Fritz, however, was there.
"They were supposed to wait for us," Joe said anxiously.
Frank went to the tent and got a flashlight. He scanned the beach until the flashlight's beam landed on two sets of tracks leading away from camp. No unfamiliar footprints or signs of a scuffle were visible. "At least they left camp at their own will," he declared. "We'd better follow their tracks in any case."
Summoning their last reserves of energy, the tired sleuths jogged down the beach in search of their companions.
Suddenly, Frank turned off his flashlight and motioned for his brother to stop. In the darkness, someone was running toward them!
CHAPTER XV.
Kidnapped!
"Frank! Joe!" the figure hollered in a German accent.
"It's Fritz!" Joe shouted, running to meet him.
"Are you all right?" Frank asked the amba.s.sador's son when the three of them were together.
"I think they got Chet!" Fritz gasped.
"Who got him?" Joe cried.
Fritz took a few seconds to catch his breath. "We . . . we were watching the geologists. The oyster boat came again, so we tried to get a closer look. They spotted us. I got away, but they must have captured Chet."
"Let's go!" Frank commanded his brother.
Leaving Fritz, who was too exhausted to run any farther, Frank and Joe took off down the beach. They reached the geologists' drilling site to find the oyster boat gone and no one around. Without stopping, they scaled the bluff and ran along the road until they arrived at Dr. Werner's bungalow.
The pickup truck was parked outside. Inside, two men were roughly interrogating the geologist. Frank and Joe moved closer to the window. The Doberman was tied to a couch. The dog snarled and barked as one of the men, Roget, slapped Werner across the face. He was demanding something of the German, and threatening that he would put an end to him. The second man busily ransacked the house, pulling out drawers and ripping through furniture.
"The Rabbit," Frank murmured, identifying the man as the albino terrorist.
"Now's our chance," Joe said eagerly.
The brothers burst through the front door. Caught off guard, Roget and the Rabbit were struck by Frank and Joe's fists, before they were able to react. But they recovered in an instant to return the punches.
"You two will pay for this!" the terrorist spat as he prepared to strike Frank again.
Frank ducked the Rabbit's fist and landed a stiff upper cut squarely on the man's jaw. The terrorist flew back against a chair, dizzied by the blow. Frank got ready to pounce, but the Rabbit quickly jumped up and hoisted the chair above his head.
Meanwhile, Joe was still exchanging blows with Roget, but was beginning to lose the upper hand in the fight.
Just then, the Doberman broke from its leash and lunged at the Rabbit. The terrorist brought the chair down heavily on the ferocious dog. It yelped with pain as the wood splintered against its back, but it only became more vicious as a result and lunged again. The Rabbit dodged the beast and ran for the door.
Roget followed. In a few seconds, the two men were tearing out of the driveway in the pickup truck.
Werner, who had left the room during the fight, returned and calmed the excited animal.
"Where were you?" Frank said angrily to the geologist. "We could have used your help."
"You made a mistake in coming here," the bearded man spoke evenly. "I was in no danger."
"No danger?" Joe cried in disbelief. "Those two guys had it in for you! Do you know who that albino man is?"
"Yes. And I also know who you are. You are Joe Hardy and that is your brother Frank."
The brothers were stunned by the geologist's words. Finally, Frank spoke. "If you know who we are, maybe you can tell us what happened to our friend Chet."
"Or what happened to our father," Joe put in sharply.
The scientist's eyes narrowed. "I warned you to stay out of this and you did not listen."
"You warned us?" cried Joe. "When did . . . ?" Suddenly, he remembered the mysterious phone call they had received in Bayport. The man had spoken with a thick German accent. "You called us," he said, snapping his fingers.
Werner nodded. "If you had taken my advice, your friend would not be in trouble."
Joe made a move to grab the geologist, but stopped as the Doberman bared its teeth in warning.
"The Rabbit will be back," Werner went on. "Now I hope you are impressed that you should not be meddling. You know too much as it is. Your father and your friend will not be safe if you insist on pursuing this further."
"Look," Frank said, taking a step toward the geologist. "The federal government will be sending men down here tomorrow unless we give them a reason not to. So you had better cooperate with us. We saw the infinity sign on those boring cylinders and we know what they are."
Werner stared at Frank, not sure whether to believe his story. "I will tell you where your friend is," he said at last. "But I cannot tell you any more. You may call these government men if you wish, but remember, your father's safety is at stake. If you value his life, you will ask the government to stay away."
"Where's Chet?" Joe demanded.
"He is being held captive on Mosquito Island, several miles-"
"We know where it is," Joe said.
While Joe stayed with the geologist, trying to pry more information from him, Frank went into a back room of the bungalow and called the amba.s.sador. Kriegler agreed to hold off sending in federal agents unless he did not hear from the boys by the following afternoon.
He was shocked to learn that Dr. Werner was involved with the terrorists. "The man has an excellent reputation," he said. "I can't believe he would do anything wrong."
"He might have been forced into cooperating with the gang," Frank said. "There's something very strange about this whole thing."
"I know," Kriegler said. "And it worries me that you have no help down there. Be extra careful, will you?"
Frank promised, then hung up and went back into the living room. Joe had not had any success in shedding more light on the mystery. Werner's dog stood guard in the corner, ready to spring if the boys made a move toward his master.
"Come on," Frank said to his brother. "Let's find Chet."
The two sleuths left the bungalow and walked toward camp. On the way, Frank related his conversation with Kriegler.
"I'm glad he's holding off for another day," Joe said. "I just hope we can crack this case in the next twenty-four hours!"
"First thing we have to do is to find Chet," Frank decided, "and before we do, we have to fix the outboard and get a few hours' rest."
Back in their tent, the two exhausted youths fell asleep instantly. But by the first light of dawn, Frank and Joe were up and working on the skiff's motor. Fritz made a quick breakfast for them, and soon they were on their way in the gray morning light, heading east by northeast, while the amba.s.sador's son remained to spy on the geologists.
The water wasn't as calm as it had been the day before. The wind had picked up and the small skiff bounced over choppy seas.
"If this gets any rougher," Frank called from the bow, "our boat won't be able to handle it. She's getting shaky as it is."
The wind increased and a line of dark clouds appeared on the horizon, moving rapidly down the bay in the direction of the boys.
"I'm going back to sh.o.r.e," Joe said, uneasy over the approaching storm. He swung the boat around.
"We'd better wait this thing out."
As the skiff headed toward the bluffs, the wind and waves grew in force. Soon the storm was almost overhead. As the cliffs drew near, the brothers could make out someone sc.r.a.ping letters in the yellow clay with a shovel.
"That's Fritz!" Joe yelled. "He's writing something!"
The boys watched intently as Fritz's message became clear. BOMB it said in bold letters.
"Bomb?" Frank exclaimed. "He must be trying to warn us!"
Frank and Joe looked up and down the beach for any sign of the Rabbit. When they brought the skiff closer, Fritz waved his arms, frantically motioning for them to get away. But the storm was almost upon them!
Suddenly, something landed in the water near the skiff and exploded.
Kaboom!
CHAPTER XVI.
Stormy Crossing A column of water shot in the air, nearly swamping the small boat.
"Up there!" Joe hollered, as he pointed toward the top of the looming yellow bluffs.
Standing on the cliff's edge, silhouetted against the stormy sky, was the Rabbit. He hurled one small bomb after the next from his perch high above the two youths, who bobbed like sitting ducks in the rough waters.
"Let's get out of here!" Frank urged as another bomb barely missed their bow.
Giving it full throttle, Joe swung the skiff around. The bombs. .h.i.t the water like a barrage of mortar sh.e.l.ls, and he had to zigzag away from the sh.o.r.e to make a difficult target for the Rabbit.
By the time the sleuths were out of range of the terrorist's a.s.sault, dense, black clouds had rolled in overhead, bringing strong winds and a heavy rain with them.
"Hold her into the wind!" Frank shouted.
"I'm trying!" Joe answered, knowing he must direct the small craft into the oncoming waves to prevent it from being capsized.
But the waves, driven by the whistling gale, had grown too short and too steep to keep the skiff's nose angled at them. Frank searched the compartments under the seats for life jackets, but either the boat wasn't supplied with them or they had been lost in the encounter with the oystermen.
"Take her back in," Frank ordered.
"What about the Rabbit?" Joe cried, his clothes soaked with rain. "He'll be waiting for us."
Frank hesitated, unsure of his decision. The waves and wind grew with each second. "Take her ash.o.r.e,"
he repeated at last.
A bolt of lightning shot from the dark sky, for a fraction of a second illuminating the wet, frightened faces of the two youths. Joe turned the skiff back toward the bluffs, now barely visible through the driving rain.
"I'll head her downwind," he' said, hoping they could lose the Rabbit by landing farther along the sh.o.r.e under cover of the storm.
Again lightning lit up the sky. For an instant, the sleuths could make out the figure at the top of the bluffs.
The terrorist walked along the cliff's edge, steadily following the skiff as it moved down the coast. Joe imagined he saw the Rabbit grin, as if pleased by this game of cat and mouse.
"Watch out!" Frank screamed, warning his brother of an oncoming wave that threatened to swamp the tiny boat.
Joe's attention left the bluffs as he made a desperate effort to avoid the wave. But it was too late. The skiff was caught by its stern and turned on its end with an abrupt twist. A second later, both boys found themselves in the water. Their boat was quickly swallowed up by the churning seas.
Desperately, the young sleuths tried to swim toward sh.o.r.e. But the driving waves and wind were against them, and washed them even further into the stormy bay.