The Secret Of Skull Mountain Part 5

He had to phone Gallic before Klenger did and make sure she accepted the job-and make certain, too, that Gallic didn't let her future employer know she was a friend of the Hardys.

Frank hastily deposited a nickel in the telephone's coin slot. Klenger Klenger- Bayport! Bayport! Could Could that be the meaning of the torn pieces of the telegram Fenton Hardy had found in the wastepaper basket of Dr. Foster's hotel room? At any rate, it was a clue worth following up.

And Frank hoped to learn more about Klenger by having Gallic Shaw on the premises.

The boy hung up the receiver and bit his lips. Callie's phone was busy!

A few moments later, Frank dialed her number 54 again. This time, Gallic herself answered. Frank wasted no time on preliminaries.

"Gallic," he said abruptly. "Have you just been talking with Mr. Klenger?"

"Frank!" Gallic's voice registered surprise. Then: "What did you say?" she asked.

Frank repeated his words, a trifle impatiently.

"Why, no," Gallic told him. "I've been talking with lola Morton. We were discussing plans for a party, and-Who is Mr. Klenger?" she asked, puzzled.

Frank told her of his visit to the plumber, and how the man had aroused his suspicions.

He did not need to go into details, for Gallic Shaw was well acquainted with the Hardy boy's sleuthing activities. Gallic and Frank were good friends, and Frank dated her whenever there was a party or a dance at Bayport High.

However, Gallic was rather startled by Frank's proposal that she become a spy in the plumbing shop.

"Oh, Frank, I'd hate to have Mr. Klenger become suspicious of me!" she told the boy.

"And suppose I get the account books all mixed up?"

When Frank a.s.sured Gallic that Klenger was mainly interested in having her take care of the shop, the girl reluctantly agreed to accept the job if he called. She promised not to reveal to Klenger that 55 it was one of the Hardys who had recommended her for the job.

Leaving the phone booth, Frank stopped at the candy counter for a chocolate bar.

Suddenly, through the drugstore's plate-gla.s.s window, he saw a tall, thin man walk past.

It was the very same man Frank and Joe had seen talking to Sailor Hawkins!

Frank grabbed the chocolate bar and ran to the door.

"Hey!" the clerk called after him. "You forgot your change!"

"Keep it ["Frank yelled.

Reaching the sidewalk he started after the tall man-then ducked into the doorway of a fruit store-The man was entering Klenger's plumbing shopl

CHAPTER VII.

Two Masked Men.

when the man had gone inside, Frank walked past the window of the plumbing shop and peered in stealthily. He was just in time to see Klenger and the stranger disappear into the rear of the store.

Although eager to hear what the two men said, the boy knew there was no way he could do it. The moment he opened the door of the shop, the bell would tinkle and betray his presence.

The youth debated whether to watch the shop and trail the tall stranger when he came out, or report new developments to his father. He decided in favor of the latter, for it seemed likely that Klenger was in some way involved with the disappearance of the scientist-and Fenton Hardy would want to know about him as soon as possible.

Frank jumped into the roadster and headed for home.

Mr. Hardy approved of his decision when he heard his son's story.

"If Klenger and the thin man are mixed up in Dr. Foster's disappearance," he pointed out, "they'll meet again."

"And if they meet in the plumbing shop," Frank put in, "Gallic may learn something about them." His brow wrinkled in thought. "Do you suppose Klenger sent that telegram, Dad?"

"I don't know," Mr. Hardy deliberated. "But I'm going to do my best to find out."

Mr. Hardy promised to keep in touch with Gallic and, after eating his share of a huge dinner cooked by Aunt Gertrude, Frank again drove toward the Morton farm.

It was getting late and he was in a hurry to return to the camp. He had hoped to pack a few clothes for Chet and resume his trip without delay. But Chet's mother and father and his sister lola insisted on hearing how the Morton heir had lost his clothes.

It was growing dark when Frank finally headed the roadster toward Skull Mountain. He swung the car into the highway and stepped on the gas. The needle of the speedometer pointed to forty-five, and he let it remain there. After about fifteen minutes, Frank slowed down and turned off the concrete highway onto the dirt road which lead to the Tarnack River region. He had gone only a short distance when suddenly, in the mirror, he saw the glare of a single headlight approaching from behind.

The light bore down on him with increasing 58 speed, and Frank realized it was the headlight of a motorcycle.

"Oh-oh!" Frank told himself. "A state trooper!"

He slowed down, glancing at the speedometer as he did so.

"That's funny," he muttered. "I never knew a trooper handed you a ticket for driving twenty on a country road."

The motorcycle drew abreast of the roadster-and Frank's surprise was complete. There were two riders-both wearing masks!

"Pull over!" the driver ordered, waving to the side of the road.

Frank considered swiftly. There was a chance he could outrace the motorcycle and escape.

As if guessing his intention, the second masked man drew a gun from his pocket and pointed it at the youth.

Frank swung the car to the side of the road and turned off the ignition.

The motorcycle immediately halted alongside, and the two men got off. One of them was short with a thick, muscular body. Frank's heart quickened. The other-the driver of the motorcycle-was tall and thin!

"Get out of the car!" the thin man ordered.

Frank glanced at the pistol, which the short man still pointed at him, and obeyed. He tried to dis59 tinguish the features of the two men, but their hat-brims were pulled low and their masks successfully concealed their eyes, noses and mouths.

"What's the idea?" Frank asked.

"You're Fenton Hardy's kid," the thin man stated. He went on as Frank did not deny it.

"What's your father doing about the old man's disappearance?"

Frank studied him alertly.

"What old man?" he asked.

"Don't give us that," the thin man snapped. "You know who we mean. What's Hardy found out about him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Frank told him.

The man looked at him for a moment, then shrugged.

"There's a way to make stubborn boys talk," he said. "For example-a slug in the jaw by a guy wearing bra.s.s knuckles." He turned to the short man. "Show the kid what I mean," he ordered.

"Sure, Sweeper."

Frank's eyes desperately searched the dirt road for an approaching car. But not a single pair of headlights glimmered in the gathering dusk.

"Another thing," Sweeper went on, "stop nosing into other people's business on the mountain. There are plenty of graves up there-but there's always room for one or two more!"

His companion uttered a low oath. His left hand 60 was caught in the pocket of his coat, and he was using his gun hand to free it.

Instantly, Frank sprang toward some bushes which bordered the road.

"Get him!" he heard Sweeper cry.

Frank ducked instinctively and lunged low behind the bushes. He felt a stunning impact as his head struck a rock. The next moment, everything went black!

CHAPTER VIII.

Council of War.

frank had no idea how long he had lain unconscious. When he regained his senses, his head was throbbing and there was a painful gash on his forehead.

He touched it gingerly, then shook his head to clear his brain. As if from a great distance, he heard the sound of voices-then realized they were only a few feet away, on the other side of the bushes. Sweeper and the short man were searching the car!

Footsteps approached, and the boy shrank back against the gra.s.s, feigning unconsciousness. Through almost closed eyes, he saw the two men staring down at him.

"Come on," Sweeper said at last. "We can't get any information out of him."

Frank waited until he heard the roar of their motorcycle. It misfired, then disappeared into the night with a peculiar uneven rhythm.

Frank stood up shakily and went back to the car. There was evidence of a search in the open compartments and the litter of keys, flashlight bulbs and crumpled papers and maps on the seat.

Frank started the motor and guided the car onto the dirt road. Around a bend in the road he saw a farmhouse, and stopped to ask permission to use the phone.

Fenton Hardy himself answered the call.

"What's wrong, son?" he queried with immediate concern. "You sound as if you're sick."

"Not sick, Dad," Frank replied. "Just a little shaky. But I'll be all right."

He told his father of the holdup. Mr. Hardy was greatly interested in Frank's description of the men and the possibility that one of them might be the tall, thin stranger Frank had seen on the mountain and later entering Klenger's shop.

"It looks to me, Dad," the boy said, "as if the mystery of the disappearing water is tied up somehow to your disappearing scientist!"

"It certainly does, Frank," the detective agreed. "And it looks as ir Bayport was the place named in the telegram after all!"

Frank hung up, after promising his father to be careful, and paid the farmer for the call.

But the farmer's wife refused to allow the boy to leave the house until she had applied a bandage to his cut forehead.

It was late when Frank arrived at Carpenter's 63 camp. There had been a rain squall on the mountain that afternoon, and the narrow, slippery trail made climbing slow and dangerous.

Joe and Chet greeted him with enthusiasm, which changed to concern when they saw the bandage on his forehead.

"What happened?" Joe asked.

Frank told them, beginning with Mr. Hardy's return home and concluding with the masked holdup.

"Zowie!" Chet exclaimed, shaking his head won-deringly. "Everything happens to you!"

Frank grinned, and gave his friend the package of clothes he had brought.

"Here, Chet," he said. "Now you can join Joe and me when we go after those holdup men."

"Huh?" Chet gulped. "Not me!" he declared, cradling the package in his arms and walking toward his tent. "I'm too delicate for strong-arm stuff!"

The Hardy boys laughed. Frank looked around and noticed that the two engineers were not in camp.

"Where are Bob and d.i.c.k?" he asked.

"They went down toward the dam," Joe replied. "This afternoon Bob painted a white stripe on a slab of rock, to mark the water level. They've gone to see whether the water line is the same as it was earlier in the day."

As the boys walked toward their tents, Joe brought 64 Frank up to date on his activities. That afternoon he had seen another column of smoke rising from the crest of the mountain. Joe had located the spot carefully with his eyes, but when he had climbed to the spot, two hours later, he had been unable to find any trace of a fire.

"It was the same old story," he concluded gloomily, "I got nowhere fast!"

Chet ducked his head out of his pup tent.