The Mummy Case (8 page)

Frank, at the wheel of the van, drove as directed. He took the steep mountain trail, and kept going until they spotted the lighthouse about a hundred yards to the right. Since the area below was too open to afford cover for the van, he drove to a point higher up the mountain and parked in the woods.

Then the boys sneaked down to the lighthouse, which was only two stories high since it stood on a plateau overlooking the Mediterranean. The trees and bushes surrounding it indicated that it had been abandoned for years. The sea was no longer visible from where it stood.

Frank pointed to five motorcycles lined up along the base of the structure, half-hidden in the bushes. One of the machines had a twisted left handlebar.

“The guy who tried to strangle the desk clerk must be inside!” the young detective whispered to his brother. “The same one who tried to push us over the cliff.”

“And he's got some of his friends with him,” Joe responded in the same undertone. “We'd better be careful. ”

The thick underbrush gave the Hardys all the cover they needed to sneak up to the lighthouse. Carefully parting a bush with their fingers, they peered through the open window into the single lower room of the building.

Five men were seated in wooden chairs around a table. All were wearing leather jackets, rough pants, and heavy boots. Their crash helmets lay on the table in front of them.

“Only a few more days,” one of the men said admiringly to a tall, dark-haired companion, “and you'll be Michael Linos, dictator of Rubassa!”

The boys recognized his voice. He was the man who had told them over the telephone to come to the Beacon.

Linos grinned. “Liberator, Roger, not dictator. Anyway, I'll sure be glad to quit my job as porter at the American Embassy. It's been one big pain in the neck!”

Joe nudged Frank. “He's the spy Dad was telling us about!”

Frank nodded but did not reply as Linos continued, “And then I'll get myself a new bike. That twisted handlebar makes for a very uncomfortable ride!”

“How come you never replaced it after the accident?” another man inquired.

“Superstition,” Linos replied with a chuckle. “When Colonel Palos and his agents almost caught me and I had to ride across that chasm to the other side of the mountain, I vowed to keep the bike that served me so well until the revolution was over. Too bad I took that awful spill and twisted the handlebar.”

The Hardys heard the sound of a motorcycle thundering up the road. The driver careened through the bushes, parked the bike at the head of the line along the wall, and entered the lighthouse.

He walked into the room and removed the crash helmet. A mass of blond hair tumbled out, framing the face of a woman in her late twenties!

Frank and Joe gasped. She was Norma Jones, the cook from the Egyptian Museum in New York!

Norma smiled at the men. “You can start your revolution any time now!” she said triumphantly.

“All the weapons have arrived,” Norma Jones informed the gang. “They're already stored in the basement of Reggie's house.”

“That's it!” Joe murmured. “The secret room in the basement. I knew there was something fishy when he didn't want me to go in there!”

“I phoned Reggie,” Norma went on, “to hold the arms until further notice.”

Frank elbowed Joe and whispered, “The message on the piece of paper I saw in the bedroom!”

“Excellent,” Linos congratulated Norma. “You've done a great job finding money and buying weapons for us.”

“It took some doing,” Norma admitted.

“How'd you manage?” one of the men asked.

Linos smiled. “Tell Carlo about it. He just got here yesterday and wasn't in on the details.”

“I sold the stolen artifacts from the Egyptian Museum to a private collector,” Norma explained. “Then I bought the arms on the international market and had them shipped to Milbin, where the government is friendly to us. From there it was a short run into Rubassa. We did it at night with small boats and slipped past the coast guard every time.”

“You'll be paid well for your services,” Linos promised. “As soon as I liberate the island.”

“That's what we want,” Norma declared. “Money. Lots of it.”

Frank wondered who the “we” referred to. He looked at Joe, who shook his head to indicate he had no idea either.

She spoke again. “I'll be leaving Rubassa soon. So I won't be riding with you anymore. You can have my bike, Mike.”

“Oh, thanks!” Linos responded enthusiastically. “It's the fastest cycle on the island. I'll make good use of it. Of course,” he chortled, “I'll have all the motorcycles I want when the revolution is over.”

The conversation in the lighthouse turned to personal matters and Frank grabbed Joe's arm, pulling him away into the bushes.

“We'd better get to the embassy and tell them about this gang!” he said excitedly.

Joe nodded. “Colonel Palos and his men will have to move pronto before these guys overthrow the government.”

The boys sneaked through the woods back to their van and Frank drove to the dirt road leading down the mountainside. “Those guys didn't hear us coming up,” he said, “but I won't take any chances going back. I'll coast down so the motor won't make any noise.”

Turning off the ignition, he allowed the van to move under its own momentum on the steep road. The vehicle gained speed and Frank stepped on the brakes to control it.

But nothing happened! Frantically, the boy hit the brake pedal as hard as he could. Again, there was no reaction.

“The brakes don't work!” Frank yelled. “We're out of control!”

The Hardys were trapped helplessly as the van hurtled down the mountainside!

“We have to get off this road!” Frank cried in despair. A cliff loomed on his right, so when an opening of trees appeared on the left, he twisted the wheel violently in that direction. The van crashed through bushes, saplings, and undergrowth. It bounced over rocks and gullies. Finally it came to a jolting halt in a thicket of evergreens.

They scarcely had time to realize they were outside the lighthouse when they heard feet pounding toward them through the undergrowth. Seconds later the five men from the gang surrounded the van. The Hardys were captured!

Another man emerged from the nearby woods. He was Reggie Watson!

A sardonic grin showed on his face when he opened the door to the van. “Well, if it isn't my plumbers! What are you doing out here—playing hooky from the job?”

“We got lost looking for a certain place,” Joe replied, his face reddening in anger.

“I know. Our lighthouse,” Reggie went on. “Only there isn't a thing wrong with the pipes!”

“What lighthouse?” Joe asked innocently.

“Don't play dumb!” Watson said sharply. “You see, I knew you two were fakes when you caused that flood in my kitchen. So I tailed you here on my motorcycle. While you were listening outside the lighthouse, I disconnected the brakes on your van. Too bad you didn't crash at the bottom of the mountain. This way we'd be rid of you by now!”

“We'll get rid of them later,” Linos snapped. “Let's take them inside.”

Everyone but Reggie followed him, dragging the Hardys along. When they entered the first-floor room, Norma Jones was waiting. She jumped to her feet when she saw the prisoners, gaping in disbelief.

“The Hardys!” she cried out. “They're detectives. I met them in New York at the museum!”

“What!” Linos thundered, and Norma told the gang about her meeting with Frank and Joe.

“Yes, we had the honor,” Frank put in sarcastically, “when the lady tried to poison the two assistant curators with heliomin!”

“It seems they've been on your trail ever since,” Linos said tersely. “That's too bad, Norma. It could mean trouble if they told anyone else about their suspicions. And before they can cause any more problems, I vote we finish them off!”

Norma shook her head. “Let's hold them here. They're worth more alive than dead!”

“Why bother?”

“Because their father is Fenton Hardy, the famous American investigator from Bayport. He may be after us, too. If so, we can blackmail him into giving up or else he'll never see his sons again!”

Linos nodded. “You have a point. But I don't want to take both of them right now. Let's lock one in the tower until we need him. If we don‘t, he can stay there forever!”

Two gang members pushed Joe upstairs into the small room at the top of the lighthouse. They tied his hands and feet and tossed him into a corner. Then they slammed shut the heavy wooden door behind them, turned the key in the lock, and went downstairs again.

“We'd better get going,” Linos commanded. The five men took Frank outside and pushed him into the van, which Reggie Watson had moved out of the undergrowth. He had been busy reconnecting the brakes. While he was finishing up, the gang stood around waiting. Norma, who was the last to leave the lighthouse, joined them.

One of the men leaned on the side of the van, watching their prisoner through the window. Now and then he turned to his companions, adding a word or two to the conversation. During one of those moments, Frank surreptitiously put his hand into his pocket and removed a tiny pellet from the detective kit his father had given him.

“I sure hope this works,” he thought as he casually leaned his left arm out the open window on the other side. Then he quickly tossed the pellet toward the motorcycles.

Boom!
The explosion went off, startling the gang members, who turned in the direction of the sound. They started toward the bikes to see if they were all right.

In the split second that his captors were occupied by the explosion, Frank wrenched open the van door, leaped out, pushed Norma out of the way, and ran into the woods.

“Catch him!” Norma Jones screamed. “Don't let him get away!”

Frank could hear the gang pushing through the underbrush after him. Turning along a gully, he crossed a small hill and found himself in a grove of tall trees with bare patches of ground on either side. Some of the gang were coming up behind him, and sounds ahead told him others were closing in from that direction. Apparently they had split up and he was caught in the middle!

The bare ground beyond the trees offered no cover and they were about to recapture him!

Desperately Frank shinnied up the tallest tree and hid among the foliage. He saw the men come together beneath him. They began a heated argument about where their prisoner had gone.

“He must have taken a different direction!” Linos roared. “We'll have to fan out and beat through the woods till we find him!”

The gang split up into pairs, with Norma joining Michael Linos and Reggie Watson. Soon the sound of their footsteps faded away.

“I'll have to try to get Joe,” Frank thought frantically and slid down the tree. Quietly he hurried to the lighthouse. No one seemed to be around, so he rushed up to the second floor. The gang had left the key in the lock, and, with a sigh of relief, Frank opened the door.

Joe was elated. “How'd you manage—”

“Sh!” Frank said. “Tell you later.” He severed Joe's bonds with his miniature knife, then the two tiptoed down the stairs as fast as they could. There was still no sign of the gang.

“We'll make a beeline for the van,” Frank hissed. “Let's hope the keys are still inside and Reggie has finished fixing the brakes!”

They ran toward the blue vehicle. Just as Frank climbed behind the wheel, he heard voices in the distance. The gang was coming back!

Frantically he started the car. The engine came to life and with a roar the young detective drove off, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust behind. Just before turning down the mountainside, he gingerly tested the brakes. They worked!

“Thank goodness!” Joe exclaimed. “If we had to drive off that road again, we might land in the middle of the rebels for a second time. Where are we going?”

“To the embassy,” Frank replied. On the way, he gave his brother a terse account of how he had outsmarted the criminals.

“Boy, am I glad we had those emergency kits,” Joe said. “I tried to reach mine, but they tied me up so efficiently that it was impossible. You were lucky you could use yours.”

Soon they reached their destination and parked the van in the lot. Then they rushed to the gate and identified themselves. They were ushered into the ambassador's office, where Fenton Hardy was briefing Mr. Compton about a meeting he had had with an official of a friendly nation.

“I learned that the spy in the embassy is a Rubas san,” he declared. “But I still don't know who he is.”

“We do!” Frank remarked. Quickly he and Joe told everything they had discovered.

“Excellent work!” Mr. Hardy said and smiled proudly at his sons. “Now I'll take it from here.” He picked up the phone and called the Rubassa Secret Service. After a brief conversation, he declared, “Colonel Palos and his men are on their way to Reggie Watson's house. They'll pick us up in five minutes.”

Palos was at the wheel of the lead car. Mr. Hardy sat beside him while Frank and Joe occupied the back seat. Only Ambassador Compton remained behind as the group raced through Loma.

They came to a screeching halt in front of the Englishman's home and rushed up the steps. The front door was unlocked and the house appeared empty. Joe led the way through the kitchen and into the basement.

The door to the secret room was open, swinging on its hinges from the force of a breeze blowing through the cellar window. They peered inside and stared in dismay.