The Firebird Rocket (16 page)

The next few minutes were bedlam. Stiller attacked Frank, while Joe took Cutler with a flying tackle. Young seemed frozen and stood stock-still as Chet seized Bruno in a tight headlock. Even Dr. Jenson got into the fray and tripped a couple of men who were about to attack the Hardys.

Just then Mr. and Mrs. Cutler arrived. Cutler threw himself into the fight, turning the odds heavily against the young detectives. One by one the boys were overpowered. Jenson was lying on the floor, and Young stood frozen, as if in shock.

“Let's tie 'em up,” Cutler panted, and his wife went to get a supply of rope. Soon the boys and the two scientists had their hands bound behind their backs and their ankles tied. Then the gang filed out of the room.

“They won't be here long,” Stiller muttered to Salty on the way out. “And I'll be glad when we're rid of them for good!”

The door slammed shut, a key turned in the lock, and the men went downstairs. Slowly their footsteps died away.

“Work on the ties,” Frank advised his companions. “If we slide up to one another, we can try to use our fingers to loosen each other's ropes. Here, watch me.” He rolled up to Joe and wriggled until the two lay next to each other, facing opposite directions. Then, with great patience, he worked on his brother's bonds. Jenson and Young followed suit, while Chet waited until Frank had untied Joe and was able to help him. A half hour later everyone was free. Dr. Jenson sat down in a corner with his head in his hands. He had gone through so much already that he had lost all hope.

Young, however, had overcome his panic and tried to encourage his partner. “Adrian, don't give up yet. Perhaps we'll all be saved, and the Firebird will be launched on schedule. Let's go over those final calculations again so we'll be prepared.”

“You really think there's a chance?” Jenson asked, wanting to believe there was.

“There always is,” Young assured him. “Here, I have some paper in my pocket. Let's write down the equations.”

Frank, Joe, and Chet, meanwhile, looked around the huge bare dusty room, seeking some means of escape. Aside from the door, which had been locked, the only other way out seemed to be through a single unboarded window. Its pane was cracked and the frame broken, but Chet managed to open the sash far enough to peer out.

“We can't climb down,” he informed his friends. “Too high up.”

Frank and Joe joined him and saw that the wall descended five stories without offering a toehold anywhere along the way. Nor was there any possibility of climbing to the roof, ten feet above.

“Are you sure?” Young called out, interrupting his discussion with Dr. Jenson.

“Positive,” Chet confirmed. He craned out as far as possible, surveying the wall to the left and right.

“Maybe if we tied all the ropes together,” Young suggested, getting up to see for himself.

As he approached the window, he suddenly stumbled and fell heavily against Chet. The chubby youth lost his balance and, with a yell, started to plunge over the sill!

Desperately Joe leaped forward and grabbed Chet's pants leg. He managed to hold on long enough for Frank to seize their friend's arm and clutch his shirt. Together the Hardys pulled him back into the loft.

Chet was as white as chalk and Joe's hands were shaking.

“I'm sorry!” Young said, staring at the boys. “I didn't mean to—it was an accident—I——”

Chet gulped. “That's okay, professor. It's just that I'm not built for flying.” He tried a brave smile, and Young turned around in embarrassment to sit with Dr. Jenson.

The boys stood without talking for a while. Finally Frank said, “There's only one possibility and that is to clear the boarded-up windows. Maybe we can escape through one of them and climb down one of the other walls.”

The young detectives wrenched the boards loose from each window, but were disappointed. The ground and the roof remained inaccessible.

“There goes our last chance,” Joe said, discouraged. “We can't climb up or down, and the only stairs are guarded!”

Suddenly Frank had an idea. “Do you have a pencil?” he asked his brother and Chet.

“Yes, here,” Joe said. “Why?”

Frank pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and scribbled a hurried message.
“Help. We are being held prisoners in the warehouse!”
Then he leaned through the window and tossed the paper out. It drifted down onto the deserted street.

“Do you have any more paper?” Joe asked, excited.

“No. Do you?”

“No.”

Chet did not have any either, and Frank said, “Let's ask the others.”

The two scientists were involved in a serious conversation. Dr. Young had scribbled a number of equations on a piece of scrap. He looked up in surprise when the boys approached him. “This is all I had,” he declared. “What do you need it for?”

They explained, and he said, “Forget it. This place is obviously so deserted that no one would find it anyway.”

“It was a good try,” Chet said. “And we have nothing to lose, right?”

“I suppose so,” Young muttered, but he did not seem convinced.

They sat in silence for a while, overwhelmed by the hopelessness of their situation. Joe stared out the small window, his mind desperately trying to find a solution. Suddenly he sat up straight.

“Hey, did you see that?”

“See what?” Frank asked.

“The rope! In front of the window!”

“What?” Everyone looked in the direction of the opening, at the same time noticing a scuffling of feet on the roof.

“Someone's up there!” Frank exploded, as the rope came into view again, swinging back and forth wildly in the empty space.

“He's climbing down!” Joe shouted.

Young and Jenson stood up. They were about to rush to the window when a man shinnied down the rope, braced his foot against the wall, pushed back, and swung forward in a wide arc through the opening into the loft.

Everyone stared in amazement as the newcomer landed and bounced in an upright position. He looked at them with a big smile.

Jenson and Young hastened over, and Frank cried out, “Dad!”

“Mr. Hardy?” Chet mumbled, his mouth agape. “Is it really you?”

“Mr. Hardy!” Young stammered. “Are—are you here alone?”

“Yes,” the detective replied, looking intensely at the scientist.

“Dad, how did you get here?” Joe asked. “We thought you were still in Florida at the Space Flight Center!”

“I discovered a clue that led me to Australia. Then I got a line on the gang ringleader. I followed him till I came to this place.”

“Why did you post yourself on the roof?” Joe wanted to know.

“I knew the gang was using the warehouse as a hideout, and I had reason to expect them to bring you here. When they left this morning, I followed them but lost them. So I came back and decided to wait. I climbed up to the roof, tied a rope around the big weathervane, and eventually saw the gang taking you up to the loft.”

“You think we'll get out of here safely?” Jenson asked anxiously.

Fenton Hardy nodded. “We will, except for the one rocket scientist who's at the bottom of this mystery.”

Jenson turned pale. “I don't understand. Are you accusing me?”

“Not you, Dr. Jenson.”

“Then what do you mean?”

Fenton Hardy looked straight at Young. “Professor, you're facing criminal charges in Australia and the United States!”

As THE boys and Jenson stared in utter astonishment, Fenton Hardy pointed a finger at the professor. “You were behind the whole thing!”

“Prove it!” Young sneered.

“I will, and you'll spend time in prison! You're under arrest!”

“That's what you think, Hardy!” Young snapped viciously. “This is your last case. We've got you outnumbered. You're finished!” Pulling a whistle from his pocket, he blew a shrill blast that echoed through the whole building.

Bruno's voice responded from the landing at the top of the stairs. “Okay, chief,” he said and turned the massive key in the lock. He pushed the door open and entered, covering the group with a revolver while Young moved over to join him.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs. Led by Stiller, the rest of the gang came in. The Cutlers brought up the rear with puzzled looks on their faces. “What's going on?” Cutler asked.

“We caught a real big fish this time,” Young chuckled. He pointed to the Bayport detective and asked Stiller, “Do you know who this is?”

Stiller grinned. “Sure. That's the gumshoe Fenton Hardy, who sent me to jail ten years ago. I've been itching ever since to get even!”

“You were guilty,” Mr. Hardy reminded him. “You got what you deserved.”

Stiller scowled. “I'd have got away with it except for you. Now I'll take care of you and your punk sons, too.”

“This is your chance for revenge,” Young said. “Get them out of here. I don't want to see any of them again, ever!”

“It'll be a pleasure!” Stiller snarled.

He and his gang moved forward. Frank doubled his fists. “We may as well go down swinging!”

Joe assumed a karate stance with upraised palms and challenged the gang, “You won't take us without a fight!”

Stiller looked at Cutler. “Shall we finish them off here?” he asked roughly.

Cutler shook his head. “I had to rent this dump. Any evidence of a crime committed here might be traced to me. We'll take them to the woods out in back. There'll be plenty of cover out there.”

Cutler glanced at Young. “Sure you've got all the dope you need from Jenson?”

Young nodded impatiently. “Don't worry about that. He's given me the final equations. Come on —let's finish this job so I can get back to Woomera.”

The gang began to circle the boys and Mr. Hardy held up a hand. “Don't resist,” he told the boys.

The advice surprised the three so much that the gang members were able to break through and overpower them after a brief struggle.

“Tie 'em up again and do a better job this time,” Mrs. Cutler commanded as Bruno picked up the ropes and handcuffed the prisoners.

“Dad!” Frank cried out. “Why did you tell us not to fight?”

“There's no need to resist,” Mr. Hardy said. “Didn't you hear tires screech down below?”

The gang froze in dismay, then Cutler dashed to the open window and looked down. “It's the cops!” he cried. “Let's get out of here!”

He and Mrs. Cutler ran from the loft and down the stairs, followed by other members of the gang. But the police already had the building surrounded. A detective sergeant and several uniformed constables arrested and disarmed the crooks as they tried to escape. The prisoners were herded back upstairs, and the captives were untied.

“You're right on time, sergeant.” Fenton Hardy grinned.

“No trouble, sir. Mr. Moran alerted us a couple of hours ago.”

“Mr. Moran?” Frank asked incredulously.

“That's correct,” Mr. Hardy replied. “Here he comes.” He pointed to Michael, who had followed the police to the loft.

Chet's mouth dropped open. “Mike! Wh-what are you doing here?”

“It's a long story,” Mike said with a smile as the criminals were handcuffed and taken downstairs by the officers.

Professor Young stared at the newcomer. “You double-crossing rat!” he fumed. “You were supposed to be working for
us
!”

“Sorry, professor.” Mike grinned coldly. “I happen to be working for the U.S. government. And it was my assignment to investigate the Cutler-Stiller gang for a series of international kidnap-pings and other offenses. I didn't know then they were behind the Jenson disappearance.”

“Fantastic!” Frank exclaimed. “So you got a job with them—saying the law was after you?”

Mike grinned. “I'm sorry I couldn't tell you the truth, Frank. Now I can because my assignment is over and I'm a free agent again.”

“What about Mr. Ponsley?” Chet asked.

“I had to let him know because I wasn't going with him.”

“But how did you meet with Dad?” Joe inquired.

“After I left Ponsley at the airport, I phoned my superior at the U.S. Consulate,” Mike went on. “He instructed me to assist Mr. Hardy in the Jenson case and the rounding up of the gang. So I met your father in Sydney and told him all I'd learned. We combined forces and flew into Port Augusta yesterday evening. By pooling all we knew, we were able to trace Stiller's mob to this warehouse—but we still didn't have the evidence to convict Young.”

“You've got it now,” said Chet. “Boy, what a case! So that's why you couldn't let your dad know what you were doing or where you were.”

Mike nodded. “But it's all over now.” He glanced at the two Hardy boys. “By the way, your deductions about that bank security guard were correct. Thurbow has confessed that he was the one who tipped off the robbers about the alarm system, and that he switched those chemicals in the hope of putting the Hardys out of action.”

By now all the crooks had been taken downstairs except for Young. When a constable approached him with a pair of handcuffs, the scientist made a sudden break for the window. He squirmed through, grabbed the rope still dangling outside, and in seconds had shinnied down to the ground.

The constable leaned out the window and took aim with his gun.

“Don't shoot!” Mr. Hardy warned. “We want him alive!”