The House On The Cliff Part 2

Frank, too, declared that he felt no ill effects. Together, the boys flung rock after rock into the field between the road and the water and, in pairs, carried the heavier rocks out of the way.

"Guess we're all set now," Frank spoke up. "Biff, I'm afraid you're going to be late getting home." He chuckled. "Who is she?"

Biff reddened a little. "How'd you guess? I have a date tonight with Sally Sanderson. But she's a good sport. She won't mind waiting a little longer."

Again the four boys straddled the motorcycles and started off. A few minutes later a noise out in the ocean attracted Frank's attention and he peered across the rolling sweep of waters. A powerful speedboat came into view around the base of a small cliff about a quarter mile out. It was followed at a short distance by a similar, but larger craft. Both boats were traveling at high speed.

"Looks like a race!" Joe called out. "Let's watch it!"

The Hardys ran their motorcycles behind a clump of trees and stopped, then walked down to the sh.o.r.e line.

The boats did not appear to be having a friendly speed contest, however. The first boat was zigzagging in a peculiar manner, and the pursuing craft was rapidly overtaking it.

"See! That second boat is trying to stop the other one!" Frank exclaimed.

"It sure is. Wonder what's up," said Joe tensely. "I wish that telescope was working. Can any of you fellows make out the names on the boats?"

"No," the others chorused.

The two men standing in the bow of the pursuing craft were waving their arms frantically. The first boat turned as if about to head toward the sh.o.r.e. Then, apparently, the helmsman changed his mind, for at once the nose of his boat was pointed out into the ocean again.

But the moment of hesitation had given the pursuers the chance they needed. Swiftly the gap between the racing craft grew smaller and smaller until the boats were running side by side. They were so close together that a collision seemed imminent.

"They'll all be killed if they aren't careful!" Frank muttered as he watched intently.

The lone man in the foremost craft was bent over the wheel. In the boat behind, one of the two men suddenly raised his right arm high. A moment later he hurled an object through the air. It landed in back of the engine housing in the center of the craft. At the same time the larger boat sped off seaward.

"What was that?" Chet asked. "I-"

Suddenly a sheet of flame leaped high into the air from the smaller boat. There was a stunning explosion and a dense cloud of smoke rose in the air. Bits of wreckage were thrown high and in the midst of it the boys saw the occupant hurled into the water.

Swiftly the whole boat caught fire. The flames raced from bow to stern.

"That man!" shouted Frank. "He's alive!"

The boys could see him struggling in the surf, trying to swim ash.o.r.e.

"He'll never make it!" Joe gasped. "He's all in."

"We've got to save him!" Frank cried out.

CHAPTER IV.

The Rescue THE Hardy boys knew that they had no time to lose. It was evident that the man in the water had been injured by the explosion and could not swim, much longer.

"We'll never reach him!" Chet said, as the four boys dashed across the rocks and gra.s.s to the sh.o.r.e.

Suddenly Frank cried out, "I see a rowboat up on the beach." His sharp eyes had detected a large rowboat almost completely hidden in a small cove at the bottom of the cliff. "We'd make better time in that!"

A huge rock jutting out of the water cut the cove off from the open part of the beach.

"We'd have to go up to that ridge and then down," Joe objected. "I'll swim out."

"I will too," said Biff.

The two plunged into the water and struck out for the stricken man.

Meanwhile, Frank and Chet sped up the slope, cut across a strip of gra.s.s, and began running down the embankment toward the rowboat.

"That man's still afloat," Frank shouted as he looked out over the water.

Joe and Biff were making good time but were a long way from the man, who seemed now to be drifting with the outgoing tide. The explosion victim, fortunately, had managed to seize a piece of wreckage and was hanging onto it.

Slipping and scrambling, Frank and Chet made their way down the slope. Rocks rolled and tumbled ahead of them. But finally they reached the bottom safely and examined the boat. It was battered and old, but evidently still seaworthy. There were two sets of oars.

"Grab hold!" Frank directed Chet.

The boys pulled the boat across the pebbles and into the water. Swiftly they fixed the oars in the locks and took their places. Pulling hard, Frank and Chet rowed toward the distressed swimmer. Presently they overtook Joe and Biff, who clambered aboard. The man had seen the boys and called feebly to them to hurry.

"Faster!" Joe urged. "He looks as if he'll go under any second!"

The motorboat in the background was still blazing fiercely, flames shooting high in the air. The craft was plainly doomed.

The boys pulled harder and the rowboat leaped across the water. When it was only a few yards away from the man, he suddenly let go his hold on the bit of wreckage and slipped beneath the waves.

"He's drowning!" Chet shouted, as he bent to his oar again.

Joe made a tremendously long, outward dive and disappeared into the water where the man had gone down. Frank and Chet rowed the boat to the spot and leaned over the side to peer down.

Just then, Joe and the stranger broke the surface of the water, with the boy holding an arm under the man's shoulders. His head sagged.

"He's unconscious!" Biff whispered hoa.r.s.ely, as he helped pull the victim into the boat. The man sprawled helplessly on the bottom, more dead than alive.

"We'd better revive him and get him to the hospital," said Frank.

He applied artificial respiration, forcing a little water from the man's lungs, but the stranger did not regain consciousness.

"I think he collapsed from exhaustion," Joe spoke up.

Frank and Chet took off their jackets and wrapped them around the wet figure.

"How about taking him to that farmhouse over there-along the road?" Chet suggested.

The others agreed. As Frank and Chet rowed toward the farm, the boys discussed the mystery. Who was the victim of the explosion and why had the men in the other motorboat tried to kill him?

The man they had rescued lay face downward in the bottom of the boat. He was a slim, dark-haired man with sharp, clean-cut features, and his clothes were cheap and worn. Biff looked in his pockets for identification but found none.

"Wonder if he's a local man," Joe said. "Never saw him around town."

The other boys declared they never had either.

By this time the boat was close to sh.o.r.e. Joe and Biff leaped out and dragged it part way up on the beach. Then the four boys carried the unconscious man up the rocky sh.o.r.e toward the farmhouse.

At their approach a plump woman came hurrying out of the house. From the orchard nearby a burly man in overalls came forward.

"My goodness! What has happened?" the woman asked, running toward them.

"We just pulled this man out of the water," Frank explained. "We saw your house-"

"Bring him in," boomed the farmer. "Bring him right in."

The woman ran ahead and held the door open. The boys carried the stranger into the house and laid him on a bed in the comfortably furnished first-floor bedroom. The farmer's wife hastened to the kitchen to prepare a hot drink.

"Rub his ankles and wrists, and get those wet clothes off him," the farmer told the boys. "That will step up his circulation. I'll get him some pajamas."

"How about calling a doctor?" Frank asked.

"No need. He'll be okay," the farmer declared.

The victim was soon under the covers. Frank and Joe continued to ma.s.sage his wrists and ankles.

At last the stranger stirred feebly. His eyelids fluttered. His lips moved, but no words came. Then his eyes opened and the man stared at those around him, as though in a daze.

"Where am I?" he muttered faintly.

"You're safe," Frank a.s.sured him. "You're with friends."

"You saved me?"

"Yes."

"Pretty near-cashed in-didn't I?"

"You nearly drowned, but you're all right now. When you feel like talking, you can tell us the whole story," said Frank. "But, in the meantime, we'll call the police or the Coast Guard and report those men who tried to murder you."

The man in the bed blinked and looked out the window. Finally he said, "No, no. Don't do that."

The boys were shocked. "Why not?" Joe burst out.

The man was thoughtfully silent for a moment, then said, "Thanks, but I'd rather let matters stand as they are. I'll take care of it as soon as I get my strength back." The rescued man turned to the farmer. "Okay with you if I stay here overnight? I'll pay you, of course."

The farmer put out his hand. "The name's Kane and you're welcome to stay until you feel strong. n.o.body can say I ever turned a sick man away. And what's your name?"

The patient hesitated a moment. "Jones. Bill Jones," he said at last.

It was so evidently a false name that the Hardys glanced knowingly at each other. Mr. Kane did not seem to realize that his guest was apparently trying to hide his ident.i.ty.

Mrs. Kane appeared with hot broth and toast. She suggested that her husband and the boys let the patient rest for a while. When she joined them in the living room she invited the boys to have a snack.

Chet readily accepted for all of them.

The snack consisted of sandwiches of home-cured ham with cheese, gla.s.ses of fresh milk, and rich lemon pie, frothy with meringue. Chet beamed. "Mrs. Kane, you ought to open a restaurant. I'd be a steady customer. You're the best pie maker I've ever met."

Frank, Joe, and Biff chuckled. How often they had heard their stout, food-loving chum make similar remarks! But in this case they had to agree with him and told Mrs. Kane so.

She smiled. "It's the least I can do for you boys who just saved someone's life."

Her young guests said nothing of their early afternoon's adventure inside the Pollitt house, but Frank casually asked the Kanes if they had known the deceased owner and if anyone were living there now.

"Sure I knew Felix Pollitt," the farmer replied. "Closemouthed old codger, but I did hear him once say somethin' about havin' a no-good nephew. Pollitt said he was his only livin' relative and he supposed he'd have to leave the property to him."

"But who'd want the place?" Mrs. Kane spoke up. "It's falling apart and would cost a mint of money to fix up."

Joe grinned. "Sounds like a haunted house," he remarked pointedly.

"Funny you should say that." Mrs. Kane looked at Joe. "There was a family stopped here the other day.

Wanted to buy some eggs. One of the little girls said they'd had a terrible scare. They'd stopped at the old Pollitt place to have a picnic, and were scared out of their wits by moans and groans and queer laughs from the house."

Mr. Kane's face broke into a grin. "The kid's imagination sure was runnin' away with itself."

"I'm not so sure of that," his wife disagreed. "I think some boys were in there playing pranks."

After Frank and Joe and their friends had left the farmhouse, they discussed the strange noises at the Pollitt place from this new angle.

Biff frowned. "If those ghosts are from Bayport High, they'll sure have the laugh on us," he remarked.

"They sure will," Chet agreed. "I'd hate to face them on Monday."

Frank and Joe were not convinced. After they had dropped their chums at the Morton and Hooper homes, they discussed the day's strange and varied adventures all the way to the Hardy house.

"I'm sure that ghost business was meant to be something more than a prank," Frank stated.

"Right," his brother agreed. "I just had an idea, Frank. Maybe n.o.body was in the house, but he could have rigged up a tape recorder to make those sounds and a remote control to start it.

What say we go back sometime and take a look?"

"I'm with you."

By this time the boys had turned into the long driveway of the Hardy home, a s.p.a.cious, three-story clapboard house on the corner of High and Elm streets. The large two-story garage at the rear of an attractive garden had once been a barn.

Frank and Joe parked their motorcycles, unstrapped the telescope, and carried it to the back porch. As they entered the kitchen, they found their mother, a pretty, sweet-faced woman, with sparkling blue eyes, preparing supper.