The Mystery Of Cabin Island Part 11

"It was stuck tight," Joe said. "Someone must have torn the tape trying to pull it loose."

"But why measure the inside of the chimney?" Chet asked.

"Maybe the person thinks the loose stone is in the chimney lining," Mr Jefferson suggested.

"You mean there are two layers?" Biff asked, surprised.

"Yes. My stone mason insisted on a lined chimney as a safety measure." Then he added, "What makes you so sure there is something hidden in the chimney?"

"We're not certain," Frank confessed. "We suspect it because of Hanleigh's interest in the fireplace. But for all we know, he may be on the wrong track."

"We must crack the code," Joe declared. "That will probably give us the answer."

"Not before breakfast," Chet said firmly. "I'm about to make the pancakes." He hurried to the kitchen and a short time later served stacks of golden-brown cakes, with a pitcher of hot maple syrup and a platter of spicy sausages.

"Chet, you've redeemed yourself!" Joe exclaimed, between mouthfuls. "This. .h.i.ts the spot after our early morning exercise!"

Mr Jefferson was quiet during most of the meal. Finally he said, "Do you know? It has just occurred to me that Sparewell mentioned a relative named Hanleigh."

Frank asked eagerly, "What did he say about him?" "It was so long ago - I can't remember," Mr Jefferson replied.

"That may be an important clue!" Joe exclaimed. "Perhaps Johnny stumbled onto the connection somehow and decided to start trailing Hanleigh."

"Yes," Frank went on, "if Johnny was determined to solve the puzzle of your missing medals, he may have dug up information about Sparewell's past and learned the names of relatives. Then, when Hanleigh showed up at your home, Johnny had his chance to follow him."

"It's all supposition," Mr Jefferson said with a sigh. "What we need are facts."

"Well, speaking of facts," said Joe, "are there hot springs on this island, Mr Jefferson?"

The man looked at him in amazement. "Hot springs! Certainly not! My goodness, Joe, whatever made you ask that?"

"Oh," Joe mumbled vaguely, "nothing just an idea." But his eyes met Frank's and the older boy bit back a grin.

"Nothing, my foot!" he said to himself. "Joe's found a clue!"

CHAPTER XV.

The Shah's Prize "WHAT can Joe's lead be?" Frank wondered. He knew his brother was not ready to talk about it in front of the others.

Frank turned to Mr Jefferson, who seemed sunk in despair. "Don't give up hope," the boy said kindly.

"We'll keep trying to find Johnny and your medals, too."

"If anyone can locate 'em, the Hardys can," Chet put in.

"I know that. You're all fine lads, and will do your best," Mr Jefferson said, brightening somewhat. "I think I'd better return home now."

"Are you sure you feel strong enough, sir?" Biff asked anxiously.

"Yes, indeed," the man a.s.sured him. "I'm warm now, too. And if you don't mind, I'll take along this carved model. It will give me rea.s.surance that Johnny will come home."

"Certainly, Mr Jefferson," Frank said, taking the yacht from the mantle.

"And Sparewell's notebook," Mr Jefferson added suddenly. "It may contain clues for my detectives."

Frank spoke up. "We'd like to keep the notebook a little longer. Joe and I want to study it carefully and crack that code."

Mr Jefferson nodded. "Of course. You've certainly earned the right to examine it first. But please be careful, boys. Possession of the notebook may be dangerous, if someone else wants it badly enough."

Joe offered to stand guard on the island while the others accompanied Mr Jefferson to the mainland.

A short time later the Seagull went whizzing out of the cove, with Frank at the tiller. They made a quick trip to the Hardys' boathouse, then drove to the Jefferson home.

As Frank parked the convertible, Chet suddenly gave a gasp of disbelief. He pointed a quivering finger at the wide front porch and cried out, "It's-it's the ghost!"

Frank leaped from the car, with Chet and Biff close behind him and Mr Jefferson following slowly.

The white-robed, turbaned figure darted away from the door as the boys dashed up the front path. He jumped off the far end of the porch and disappeared around the side of the house. The three youths sprinted in pursuit, but soon stopped short, scanning the landscape. Their eyes roved over the snowcovered walks and flower beds, the birdbaths capped with ice, and the bare bushes and trees. The "ghost" could not be seen.

"That white robe is great camouflage against the snow," Biff commented glumly.

"Let's split up and search!" Frank directed quickly.

The boys hunted while Mr Jefferson stood and watched in tense silence. Suddenly Frank noticed a blur of whiteness moving behind a hedge of low junipers.

The young sleuth stepped backwards, took a running start, and vaulted the shrubs. A loud cry split the air as he landed on top of a crouching figure. The two rolled over, struggling.

"Hold 'im, Frank!" yelled Biff. He and Chet sprinted up and yanked the slender, white-robed man to his feet. The boys gasped as they got a clear look at the prisoner's dark-skinned, frightened face. No doubt about it, he was the man in the photo!

"Okay, Mister Ghost - what's your story?" Biff blurted angrily. "You have a lot of explaining to do."

"Take it easy," Frank told his friend. "Let's get him inside first."

Panting, the captive was led into the house.

"Now then," said Mr Jefferson when they had all gathered in the living room, "who are you? And why have you been prowling on my property?"

The swarthy man replied in a soft, slightly accented voice, "I apologize for my seeming intrusions. I ran because I was startled, and also these young men have pursued me previously. The last time one of them was carrying a firearm."

The Hardys grinned and Frank said, "My brother Joe was holding a camera with a telescopic lens. From a distance it does resemble a rifle."

"Ah," said the man, "I see." He smiled faintly. "I am seeking Mr Elroy Jefferson."

"I am he," said Mr Jefferson. "Just what is it you want?"

The stranger now stood up and took an official-looking red-and-gold diplomatic pa.s.sport from inside his robe. With a slight bow, he showed it to Mr Jefferson.

"I am Yussef ben Karim. I represent the ruler of my country-our great Shah Ali. I understand that among your valuable medals is one that was given many years ago to the Shah's grandfather. This medal is most prized by my master and he has authorized me to pay whatever sum is required to obtain it."

Mr Jefferson shook his head. "I'm sorry to say that I don't have your medal. I once owned it, but unfortunately my collection was stolen. I'm still searching for it."

Yussef looked bewildered. "But I was given to understand that Mr Hanleigh would have the medal for me."

The boys and Mr Jefferson exchanged startled looks. "What do you mean?" Mr Jefferson asked.

"Mr Hanleigh sent word to the Shah last summer saying that you had appointed him to act as your agent, and I was instructed to meet him here, which I did. You, sir, were not at home. Mr Hanleigh first told me that he had the medal, but later he declared it was not in his hands - that he would have it soon. I beg you, what is the truth?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Frank interjected. "Yussef, that man Hanleigh was lying to you. For one thing, I'm quite sure he had no right to pose as Mr Jefferson's agent - "

"He most certainly did not," the elderly man stated emphatically as Frank turned to him for confirmation.

"Hanleigh is the last man in the world whom I would entrust with such a matter, even if I still had the medals and wished to sell them."

"What's more," Frank added, "Hanleigh probably doesn't have the medals, either, and never did have them."

Yussef's face registered concern. "I was afraid of that. The Shah will be grievously angered."

Frank told Yussef that the boys were working on the mystery, and added, "My theory is that Hanleigh's scheme in contacting the Shah was to set up channels through which he could sell the medals - if he found them - without being prosecuted. We suspect Hanleigh had been searching for the collection on Cabin Island."

"Tell me, Yussef," Biff put in, "what were you doing on the island?"

The man said apologetically, "I am sorry. I did not intend to trespa.s.s. I had begun to suspect Mr Hanleigh's story about the medal, and followed him there on two occasions. Like you, I could not escape the impression that he was seeking something hidden and wondered if it might be the Shah's medal."

"And you looked for it yourself?" Frank asked.

"That is correct. But I had no success, and finally I deemed it wise to come directly to Mr Jefferson."

"How did you get to Cabin Island?" Chet asked.

"But of course, I walked," Yussef replied with a smile. "I overheard Mr Hanleigh talking with the two young men whom I have seen transporting him to the island in an ice-going craft."

"Now you understand the whole situation, Yussef," said Mr Jefferson. "I agree with my young detective friends that Mr Hanleigh evidently hopes to locate the medals for his own gain - including the one desired by your ruler."

"It is a great misfortune to have lost so fine a treasure," Yussef declared sympathetically, "and to be persecuted by an unscrupulous person such as Mr Hanleigh."

"At least we won't be off chasing ghosts!" Chet added a little sheepishly. "When I first saw you, I thought you were a spook!"

The foreign visitor laughed along with the others, then Frank said, "We'd better get back to the island and see how Joe's making out."

Yussef's expression became sombre. Gravely he said to Frank, "If your brother is alone there, you must hurry to him. I have a feeling he is in danger. Mr Hanleigh can be violent."

"We know it," said Frank. "We'll leave right away."

Meanwhile, Joe had left the cabin with the binoculars and was trudging towards the cliff, eager to test the theory that had been forming in his mind.

As he stepped from the shelter of the woods, the sunlight was dazzling on the snowy ground which led to the cliff edge. Beyond lay the frozen bay.

Joe's eyes sought the circle of tall stones he had seen from the roof. They stood near the edge of the cliff about fifty yards to his right. With a surge of excitement, he strode towards them. "Now-" he said to himself, "we'll see!"

Suddenly Joe stopped. Below, an ice-yacht was skimming across the inlet. He swung his binoculars up and trained them on the craft. Joe stiffened.

"The Hawk!" he muttered. "Ike, Tad, and Hanleigh !"

Quickly Joe made his way downhill and hid in a clump of bushes near the dock. He watched as the craft was guided ash.o.r.e and tied up. The three paused close enough for Joe to hear Hanleigh say: "You punks keep an eye out for the Hardys and their pals. Give a shout if you see anyone coming." Then the man started towards the cabin.

Joe waited until Ike and Tad had walked off down the sh.o.r.e, then returned noiselessly up the slope.

Cautiously he peered into the living-room of the cabin - no one was there. Joe hurried to the rear and crouched among some bushes below the window of the Hardys' bedroom. He raised his head and peered in.

Hanleigh was rummaging through the brothers' belongings! "Bet he's looking for the notebook," Joe thought. "Good thing Frank has it with him."

Suddenly Hanleigh spun round and Joe ducked. He heard the man's outraged bellow. "Spying again, are you!"

CHAPTER XVI.

The Intruder's Revenge "How did Hanleigh spot me?" Joe thought desperately, crouched low amidst the bushes. Moments later, the kitchen door opened and footsteps scrunched towards him on the snow.

To Joe's surprised relief, the big man strode past his hiding place and disappeared around the side of the cabin. Before Joe could move, Hanleigh's angry voice rang out.

"Couldn't resist snooping, could you?" he snarled. "I haven't paid you two just for the taxi services - I've been paying you to mind your own business."

Ike Nash and Tad Carson!

Joe smiled wryly. "They must have been looking through that little end window in my bedroom."

Ike's whining voice came to his ears. "We were freezing! There's a fierce wind off the ice."

"That's a real shame!" Hanleigh retorted. "You fellows come with me. I'll show you a place to keep warm!"

The three rounded the corner and Joe held his breath as they plodded past him. He poked his head from the bushes in time to see Hanleigh open the woodshed. "Wait in there!" he ordered.

Unsuspecting, the two roughnecks stepped inside. Hanleigh pushed the door shut and bolted it. "I'll take good care of the Hawk for you!" he sang out tauntingly.

From within the shed came angry yells as Ike and Tad pounded violently on the door. Chortling, Hanleigh turned towards the kitchen.

"Let us out of here!" Ike screamed.