The Clue in the Embers (5 page)

“Who wants to carry Mr. Bones to his next place of residence?” Tony asked.

Joe looked at his brother. “He can sit on your lap while we ride there. After all, you found him.”

“Frank it is!” Tony laughed.

Grinning, Frank clutched the skeleton and climbed the ladder. The others followed him up and Joe stepped out onto the sidewalk to hail a taxi.

Presently one came along and Joe beckoned to the driver. The other boys with their strange companion were still out of sight in the shop entrance. Now they stepped outside. Tony padlocked the door and thrust the key into his pocket. The taxi pulled up to the curb.

“How many live passengers are you allowed to carry?” Joe asked the driver seriously. Then he saw Frank and Tony, the skeleton supported between them, starting for the cab.

“What's this—a joke!” The amused driver chuckled, and pretended to pull away.

“Wait!” Joe laughed. “Mr. Bones is harmless. We're taking him to Englander Hospital Medical School. Do you know where it is?”

“Sure.” The man grinned. “Hop in. I'll drive carefully so we won't disturb your friend.”

Placing Mr. Bones on the outside of the seat next to Frank, the group headed for the medical school. They had gone only a block when a police siren sounded behind them!

 

 

 

 

“THE motorcycle cop is after
us!”
Frank exclaimed. “He must have seen the skeleton!”

The sound of the siren grew louder and the taxi was ordered to pull over to the curb. The policeman, a big, red-faced man, climbed off his motorcycle and walked slowly back to the taxi. He stared at Mr. Bones.

“Where'd that come from?” he roared.

“We—we found him in the cellar,” Tony explained, feeling a little foolish, “at Prito's Curio Shop.”

“So!” the policeman exclaimed, looking stern. “That shop's locked up. I knew old Prito well.”

Tony suddenly recalled that in his pocket was a letter from Mr. Cosgrove. “Just a minute, Officer. I can explain everything.” The burly policeman read the letter, eyed Tony, then handed it back.

“So you're a Prito!” he exclaimed. “Now that I got a good look at you, I can see you're like Roberto. Same snappy black eyes. Okay, boys, go ahead.”

Twenty blocks north the taxi driver pulled into a side street and drew up to a white cement building.

Tony paid the fare and Frank picked up the skeleton. As the cab disappeared into the city's traffic, the boys walked through the hospital doorway. A young intern grinned as he passed them. “Who's your air-conditioned pal?” he gibed.

The boys chuckled and walked to a desk where a nurse was on duty. She directed them to the school, across a wide center court. There, a genial white-haired physician welcomed Mr. Bones and thanked the trio.

As they walked down the hospital steps, Tony said, “Should we try Wortman again before eating lunch?”

“Good idea,” Frank said. “Also we must return the key from the shop to Mr. Cosgrove.”

Wortman was still out. At the bank the boys were told that the newly found curios were being appraised at the shop and Tony could take whatever he wanted.

The boys went to the hotel, got their bags, and stuffed several of the smaller objects into them. Then they had a bite to eat, hailed a taxi, and set off to try Wortman's house for the third time. As their cab stopped at a busy intersection near the East River, Frank suddenly gripped his brother's arm. “Look!” he cried. “Over there on the sidewalk. Willie Wortman!”

The recent visitor to the Hardy home appeared to be walking with another man. Wortman's broad shoulders partially blocked his companion from view. But as the taxi passed them, Frank and Joe caught a glimpse of the other man's face. He was dark-haired and black-mustached.

“Say, he could be the blowgun man or Torres! Stop here, driver!” Frank called, and the man pulled to the curb.

Frank paid him and the boys got out. “Tony, you stay here with the suitcases,” Frank instructed. “Joe and I will talk to Willie.”

“Okay,” Tony agreed, and watched his pals dash after the two men.

The mustached stranger had now dropped slightly behind Wortman. As the boys hurried after them, the pair turned up a side street.

The Hardys dodged through the crowd. The red-haired sailor seemed to be enjoying his walk, whistling a tune. But the other man glanced from side to side uneasily. He acted almost as if he suspected someone were trailing him.

Willie Wortman suddenly looked back. Catching sight of the boys, he called out, “Frank and Joe Hardy!”

The mustached man also glanced back, then he broke into a run.

Frank stopped to speak to the sailor, and Joe chased after the stranger. But the man ran through an alley to another street and Joe lost the trail. Disappointed, he walked back to Frank and Wortman.

“What are you guys doing in the city?” the sailor was saying. He did not at all seem curious about where Joe had gone.

“Just came up for a short visit,” Frank replied noncommittally. “We were on our way to the airport when we saw you.”

“Have you found my medallions?” Wortman asked.

Frank shook his head. “Not yet.” “I'll be glad when I ship out,” Wortman went on. “That curse business is getting under my skin. I've had nothing but bad luck lately.” He scratched his head. “You know what? I think it might have been the cause of old Mr. Prito's death!”

“That's ridiculous,” Frank told him. “And stop worrying about the curse. It's nothing but a superstition.”

“I'll try,” Wortman said, unconvinced.

The boys assured him that they would keep on searching for the medallions, then Joe said, “Sorry to have kept you from your friend.”

“Friend?” Willie asked, puzzled.

The Hardys exchanged glances. If the suspect had been with him, why didn't Willie want to admit it? Or had the mustached man been following the seaman unknown to him? At that moment it seemed as if the latter possibility were true, so they did not pursue the subject. The boys said good-by and returned to Tony.

“Didn't learn a thing,” Frank said. He flagged a taxi, and when they were settled inside, told Tony about their brief conversation with Wortman.

When they arrived at the airport, the boys were informed that they had just time to make the flight to Bayport.

It was late afternoon when the plane circled the Bayport field and landed. The boys drove back to town in the Hardys' convertible with Frank at the wheel.

When they reached Tony's house, Joe removed the curios from the Hardys' bags and helped his friend carry his luggage and the other articles to the front door.

“Phone us if you find anything developed while we were away,” Joe said.

Tony nodded. “And I'll take these things to the museum right away.”

Frank and Joe waited until. Tony had everything inside his house, then drove home. Mrs. Hardy greeted them at the door and said no telephone calls had come during their absence.

“It's been quiet and very lonely here with all my menfolk away,” she said wistfully as Joe gave her a bear hug. “And please give Aunt Gertrude and me a little of your time. There are a lot of jobs around here that need my sons' attention.”

For the next thirty-six hours the boys remained at home, cutting grass, weeding, and doing other chores. Tony called to tell them that everything had been quiet at the museum. Mr. Scath would be ready to confer with the boys soon.

At seven-thirty the morning of the second day after their return from New York, the boys were shaken out of a sound sleep by a frantic hammering at the front door.

“Who's there?” Joe called through the screened bedroom window.

A figure ran onto the lawn. It was Chet Morton. “Hurry out!” he cried.

Frank and Joe raced down the stairs and flung open the door.

“Look!” Chet said breathlessly, pointing.

On the floor of the porch a foot from the railing stood a six-inch-high, cone-shaped pile of ashes!

 

 

 

 

THE mysterious enemy's latest warning struck fear into Chet's heart. “This must be the work of that fire guy in the museum!” the chubby boy exclaimed. “And now he's—he's threatening you both personally.”

“We've already been threatened personally,” Frank replied. He told of the warning Tony had been given by Valez over the phone. “And this makes me think Valez was the person in the museum.”

“Maybe he's putting a curse on you,” Chet quavered. “The—the medallion curse!”

“Could be,” Frank agreed, smiling. “But he may find it'll backfire.”

Joe asked Chet what had brought him there so early. Chet explained that he was driving into town to buy a replacement part for one of the tractors on the Morton farm. “And I had an idea that I would be able to get some breakfast here if I left early!”

“Didn't you have any before you left?” Joe asked with a grin.

“Sure I did,” Chet answered jovially, “but it was only a little one.”

“Little one! I'll bet you polished off a dozen eggs!” Joe needled him.

As Joe and Chet watched, Frank got a small box and swept the ashes into it. “I'll get dressed and then take these to our lab and analyze them. You fellows may as well start eating. I smell blueberry muffins baking.”

Joe and Chet went to the dining room. “Where's Frank?” Mrs. Hardy asked.

When Joe explained what his brother was doing, she sighed. “Oh dear! I'm afraid this enemy you've made is a dangerous one.”

“Indeed he is,” Aunt Gertrude stated crisply. She would have gone on, but the boys' mother, sniffing, said, “Gertrude, I'm sure the muffins are done.”

Chet was eating his sixth muffin by the time Frank returned. Dashing into the room he announced that the photomicrographs showed the burned material to be bones!

Chet almost choked on the muffin. “Maybe this is a warning that we'll all be roasted alive!”

“Take it easy, Chet.” Frank grinned. “The bones were from a chicken.”

“I wouldn't care if they were a pelican's,” Aunt Gertrude said. “Your enemies must mean them as a final warning. Why don't you drop the case?”

“We can't back down now, Aunty. We must clear up the mystery.”

“I suppose you're right,” Miss Hardy conceded, and the boys' mother said she agreed.

After breakfast Chet went on his way to buy the tractor part. Joe phoned Tony to tell him about the latest warning and to find out if he had had any further word from Valez.

“Not a peep,” Tony answered. “Do you think he's the one who left the ashes on your porch?”

“If he was,” Frank replied, “it means he's still in Bayport. Want to come on a search for Valez?”

“You bet. Why don't you pick me up?”

The three boys spent the entire day sleuthing. After consulting the police records and learning nothing, they went to hotels, motels, and rooming houses. No one could help them.

“I sure hope we discover a lead soon,” moaned Tony as they let him off at his house.

The Hardys drove home and put the car in the garage. When they entered the kitchen, Joe found a pinned-up note near the refrigerator telling them that Mrs. Hardy and her sister-in-law had gone out for dinner. The boys' supper was on the stove, ready for warming. Also, their father had phoned to say he was still in Washington but might be home later that night.

“Let's turn on the TV news before we eat,” Frank said, and headed for the living room. As he led the way through the dining room, he stopped in his tracks. Then he pointed to the floor, crying, “Look at those buffet drawers!”

The four large drawers had been pulled out and their contents dumped out. Silverware and linen lay scattered on the floor.

“A burglary!” Joe exclaimed.

The boys dashed into the living room and the hall. These, too, were a shambles!

Frank and Joe ran through the house. From top to bottom every drawer in the place had been pulled out and rifled with one exception. The files in Mr. Hardy's second-floor study had not been broken into, probably because the intruder had not been able to force the lock.

“Joe,” Frank said presently, “do you realize that nothing seems to be missing? Not silver, jewelry, or anything valuable. What was the housebreaker after?”

“Something he didn't find, that's sure.”

Frank had just about concluded that the mysterious person was connected with one of their father's cases rather than their own when an idea suddenly occurred to him. He hurried back to their bedroom.

“I know what that fellow was after and he got it!” Frank called as he opened his closet door.

Joe dashed in. The cigarette-type box from Tony's collection of curios was missing from the shelf!

“Maybe it wasn't so worthless after all,” Frank reflected. He was about to add something else when he was interrupted by a car turning into the driveway.

“That's mother and Aunt Gertrude,” Joe said. “Let's go down and tell them what happened.”

The women were alarmed and shocked about the burglary, but after a quick check they confirmed that nothing had been stolen.

“Except for our curio box,” said Joe.

“Oh that!” Aunt Gertrude said. “Perhaps it wasn't taken after all.”