Read The Disappearing Floor Online
Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
The Disappearing Floor (11 page)
Frank met the man's attack
At the boat dock a few passengers had already boarded the
Sandpiper.
But Clams Dagget was leaning against a bollard, smoking his corncob pipe, apparently in no hurry to shove off. He greeted the Hardys with a nod. “Hi, lads! How's the detective business?”
Sandpiper.
But Clams Dagget was leaning against a bollard, smoking his corncob pipe, apparently in no hurry to shove off. He greeted the Hardys with a nod. “Hi, lads! How's the detective business?”
“Booming,” Frank replied with a smile. “Maybe you can help us. Ever hear of a place called Tigers' Bight?”
“Sure. Down south of the bay. I once lost an anchor there.”
The Hardys became excited.
“We couldn't find it on the map,” Joe said.
“Ain't surprised,” Clams said, without taking the pipe out of his mouth. “That's just a nickname. 'Bout ten years ago there was a coupl' attacks on swimmers by tiger sharks that come in the bight, so folks thereabouts took to callin' it Tigers' Bight. No one goes there much any more. Pretty desolate now.”
Frank took out a pencil and a scrap of paper, and asked Dagget to draw a map so he and Joe could find the place. The old ferryman obliged.
The Hardys thanked him and started back to their convertible, which they had parked in a vacant lot on the opposite side of the road. As the two boys passed a roadside stand facing the road, Joe let out a startled yelp.
“Frank! Look!” Their car door was open and a man was pawing through the glove compartment!
Frank and Joe started to dart across the road but had to pause for a break in traffic. The man glanced around warily, saw them, and immediately fled through the lot. By the time the Hardys crossed the road, he was leaping into a waiting sedan. It sped off with a roar.
“Let's go!” Frank shouted, rushing toward the convertible. He slid behind the wheel and Joe slipped in beside him. Frank whirled the car around, sent it bumping and bouncing across the lot, then shot out onto the road.
The chase continued for over a mile, with the sedan clearly in view. Then the Hardys saw it turn off to the right.
Moments later, the convertible reached the same spot and Frank swung the wheel. The car took the turn with a screech of rubber. They were now in a winding dirt lane with woods on both sides, and the sedan was out of sight.
Bang!
The convertible suddenly spun out of control. Frank jammed on the brakes, seesawed the wheel, and managed to bring it to a lurching stop just before it crashed into some trees.
The convertible suddenly spun out of control. Frank jammed on the brakes, seesawed the wheel, and managed to bring it to a lurching stop just before it crashed into some trees.
“Whew!” Joe let out a gasp of relief.
Somewhat pale and shaken, the boys climbed out to survey the damage.
“Left front tire's flat,” Frank announced.
“And there's what did it.” Joe pointed to a wicked-looking array of tacks, bent nails, and broken glass scattered across the lane. “Those crooks must've tossed the stuff out of their car before we turned into the lane.”
Disgusted, the Hardys got a jack out of their trunk and set about changing the flat tire.
Suddenly a small object flew spinning from the trees across the lane. It landed near the convertible and sent up a gush of purple smoke!
Frank stiffened in anger. “Look out, Joe!” he warned. “We're being attacked!”
Three men wearing gas masks had burst out of the woods and were charging toward the boys!
CHAPTER XIV
Tigers' Lair
As THE smoke bomb burst and Frank yelled his warning, Joe was getting the spare out of the trunk, his back turned to the lane.
Joe whirled at Frank's cry and saw the gas-masked men only a few yards away. He struggled to hoist out the spare wheel and hurl it at them, but two of the thugs pounced on him.
Frank rushed to his brother's assistance, clutching the lug wrench. The third man grabbed his arm, twisted the wrench away from him, and knocked Frank sprawling in the ditch.
In moments, purple smoke blanketed the area. The Hardys gasped and their eyes watered.
Joe's assailants overpowered and searched him, one yanking the lapel camera from his pocket.
Frank was vainly trying to scramble to his feet, but every attempt met with a kick or blow that sent him toppling again. Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, the gas-masked thugs darted away through the smoke.
Joe picked himself up, clawed out a handkerchief to hold over his eyes and nose, and groped his way toward his brother. Frank met him, and hand in hand they ran from the smoke area. In the distance they heard a car start and drive off.
Frank and Joe finally reached clear air. Coughing, the boys slumped against a tree and looked at each other through swollen, red-rimmed eyes.
“Wow! We fell into a trap that time, Frank!”
“Sure did. Joe, we ought to get back to the car and radio the police.”
“Okay, but let's wait till the smoke clears.”
Presently they were able to return to the convertible. Frank warmed up the short-wave radio and gave the police a description of the sedan.
Joe, meanwhile, was mounting the spare. “Sorry I got us into this, Frank,” he apologized. “I shouldn't have said anything to Hirff about Tigers' Bight.”
“Never mind. They still wouldn't have nailed us if we'd used our heads.”
“How do you figure?”
“That guy rifling our glove compartment was probably a decoy,” Frank reasoned. “If he didn't find what he was after, I'll bet his orders were to let us spot him. They knew we'd go after him, so they had the tire-puncture trick and the gas attack all set up beforehand.”
Joe shook his head ruefully. “Boy! Now I
really
feel like a chump!”
really
feel like a chump!”
“Did they get your camera?”
“Yes. I'm glad it was insured!” Joe grinned. “But there's one thing they
didn't
get.”
didn't
get.”
“What's that?”
“Take a look in the glove compartment.”
Frank did so, then turned in astonishment. “The film ! How did that get in here?”
“Simple. I unloaded the camera while you were wheeling after 'em.” Joe chuckled as he wrestled the spare into the trunk. “I had a hunch there might be trouble if we caught up with those charactersââand the glove compartment looked safe because it had already been searched.”
“Nice going, Joe!”
As they were driving home, Joe remarked, “Hirff called the signals on that attack.”
“Sure, but try and prove it. He probably phoned his pals the second we left the airport and has a nice, clear-cut alibi for himself.”
As soon as they arrived home, the boys developed the film and made an enlarged print of the chart. As expected, it showed the Bayport coastal area. A notch in the coastline south of Barmet Bay had been circled in pencil.
“It's the place on Clams Daggett's mapâTigers' Bight!” Frank exclaimed, then frowned. “I don't get it, Joe. Hirff knew we'd heard about Tigers' Bight, and we were bound to locate it. So why was he so eager to get the film back?”
“You're overlooking something, Frankâright here.” Joe pointed to an X mark near the bight, barely visible on the print.
Frank gave a whistle. “Wonder what's there!”
“Maybe enough evidence to put the gang behind bars,” Joe surmised. “This photo would link them to whatever that X stands for.”
“Wow!” Frank was jubilant. “I have a feeling we're really getting somewhere now, Joe!”
“If only we knew what those words on Jack's phone pad meantââAmethyst calling Seacat.' ”
“Sounds like a radio call,” Frank mused. “It would tie in with our guess about âSeacat.' ”
“In other words, a radio call to a boat.”
“Right. But the âAmethyst' part stumps meâunless that's the name of another boatâor maybe of a plane that's doing the calling.”
“That's it, Frank!” Joe snapped his fingers excitedly. “It could be a code name for Jack's own planeâor even for Jack himself!”
“Right. Let's assume Tom Lester's hunch is correctâthat Jack managed to worm his way into Hir$'s gang. And let's assume
your
hunch is correct that he was flying to Tigers' Bight.”
your
hunch is correct that he was flying to Tigers' Bight.”
“Okay. So what then?” Joe asked.
“Don't you see? Maybe Jack was flying there on Hirff's instructions. Hirff told him to contact a boat named the
Seacat
by radio and then rendezvous with it in Tigers' Bight!”
Seacat
by radio and then rendezvous with it in Tigers' Bight!”
“Perfect!” Joe exclaimed. “Frank, if Jack was flying a mission for the gang, that radio message wasn't sabotaged. It must have been interrupted accidentally.”
“I'll check right now!” Frank said. He called the Bayport radio station and learned that it, too, had experienced freakish transmission difficulties the day beforeâapparently due to sunspots.
“Frank, let's go to Tigers' Bight and find out what that X stands for,” Joe proposed. “While we're at it, we may spot Jack's plane!”
“Okay,” Frank agreed. “But let's call Dad first. He may be back at the hotel by now.”
The boys were able to contact Fenton Hardy. “How'd you make out in Gary, Dad?” Frank asked.
“We ran into a blank wall,” the detective replied. “The getaway car was traced there. But I'm sure now it was just a false scent to make us think the thieves had fled to that area to hide out.”
When Mr. Hardy heard about the Haley Building mystery and the vanished diamonds, he concluded that the same jewel thieves had struck again.
“Sam and I had better fly back there as soon as possible,” he told Frank. “We'll try to be in Bayport sometime tonight.”
Mr. Hardy listened with keen interest to Frank's report about Al Hirff, the notation on Jack's phone pad, the gas-bomb attack on the boys, and their theory about Tigers' Bight.
After concluding the conversation, the boys drove to Bayport harbor. They rented a motorboat and started into the bay. As they passed the jetty, they sighted the
Napoli,
with Tony and Chet aboard.
Napoli,
with Tony and Chet aboard.
The boys hailed one another, and brought their boats alongside. Frank told them where he and his brother were heading.
“Why pay rent on that job?” Tony exclaimed eagerly. “I'll take you there in the
Napoli!”
Napoli!”
Frank considered a moment, then shook his head. “There's another job you can do.”
“Name it.”
“We have a hunch that âSeacat' may be the name of the gang's cabin cruiser,” Frank explained. “How about cruising all the coves around here and see if you can spot a boat by that name?”
Tony and Chet agreed, and the Hardys resumed their course. Reaching the mouth of Barmet Bay, they headed southward along the coast. After a half hour's run they sighted Tigers' Bight.
“If Tigers' Bight is just a local nickname, I wonder how the gang picked it up,” Joe mused.
“They must have heard it from some local boatman or fisherman,” Frank reasoned.
Joe slowed the motor as they cruised into the bight. The cove was wooded on all sides, with a strip of flat sandy beach extending for about a quarter of a mile. The rest of the shore was rocky.
“Frank, that beach would have made a good landing strip for
Skyhappy Sal,”
Joe suggested. “What say we take a look for plane tracks?”
Skyhappy Sal,”
Joe suggested. “What say we take a look for plane tracks?”
“Good idea.”
Joe brought the motorboat in close and anchored. The boys pulled off their loafers and socks and waded ashore. The sand appeared unmarked.
“You could still be right,” Frank told his brother. “The tracks may have been washed out during high tide.”
Returning to their boat, the Hardys consulted their photographic blowup of Hirff's chart. The X mark lay inland from the bight on a narrow creek which flowed not far from the beach. Aside from a few gulls screeching overhead and the noise of the surf outside the bight, the area was calm and silent.
Frank frowned at the racket of the motor as Joe steered toward the creek. “If any of the gang's around here, we sure won't take 'em by surprise,” he remarked.
Joe nosed the boat gently into the creek. Frank moored it to a rock and they headed inland on foot. The brothers had hiked only a short distance along the winding stream when they sighted a dilapidated cabin nestled among trees.
“So that's what the X mark stood for!” Joe exclaimed.
The boys advanced cautiously to reconnoiter the cabin. Suddenly they were startled by the sound of a plane engine revving up along the bight. A moment later the plane soared into view among the trees.
“It's
Skyhappy Sal!”
Frank yelled.
Skyhappy Sal!”
Frank yelled.
The craft was heading seaward. To the boys' astonishment it banked and circled sharply, then came swooping in lowâstraight toward them! The pilot cut the motor, and the Hardys caught a fleeting glimpse of Jack Wayne and another man in the plane's cabin. Jack waved to them frantically.
“Don't go into that cabin!” he shouted.
The pilot gunned the engine, trying to work up flying speed againâbut the plane dipped and went into a stall.
“He's going to crack up!” Joe yelled.
An instant later the boys heard a terrific impact and the crash of crumpling metal!
CHAPTER XV
Puzzling Reports
FEARING the worst, Frank and Joe ran along the creek bank. As they emerged from the trees, they saw that the plane had hit the beach about two hundred yards away. Its nose was high in the air and one wing had crumpled.
The Hardys ran toward the crashed aircraft. Jack was evidently still in the plane, but his companion had been hurled from the cabin by the force of the impact. He was getting dazedly to his feet and brushing off the sand that smeared him from head to foot. At the sight of the boys, the man began groping frantically on the ground.
“He may be hunting for his gun!” Frank warned. “We'd better nail him fast!”
Other books
Brighter Than the Sun by Darynda Jones
Nightwings by Robert Silverberg
Cloudburst by V.C. Andrews
Lethal Remedy by Richard Mabry
The Confession by John Grisham
The Curse of the Gloamglozer by Paul Stewart, Chris Riddell
Savage: a Fighter Erotic Romance Novella by Elliott, Christine
The Magician's Elephant by Kate DiCamillo
Existence by James Frey
