The Mystery of Cabin Island (15 page)

The man looked up in relief. “Now you're talking my language. It's a deal. Here!” With trembling fingers he pulled a long envelope from his pocket and shoved it across the table. “Read this.”

Frank reached into the envelope and took out a document and a letter. He scanned the document first.

“Good night! This is John Sparewell's last will and testament!” Frank exclaimed. “Hanleigh is his nephew and sole heir.”

“Sparewell dead!” Johnny said sadly. “When did that happen?”

“Last spring,” Hanleigh volunteered. “Now read the letter from my uncle's lawyer.”

Frank did so. “This letter,” he told his companions, “which is dated last April, explains that Sparewell stole the medal collection when he was pressed for funds. Then he realized that no dealer would touch it.”

Hanleigh interrupted. “Uncle John never tried to find a private outlet for the medals, the way I did.”

“On his deathbed,” Frank went on, “he requested that his nephew return the collection to Mr. Jefferson.”

“Why didn't he do it himself, earlier?” Chet asked Hanleigh.

“Because he was chicken, that's why. Uncle John was afraid old man Jefferson would try to bring him to justice. He wanted the medals to be in an absolutely secret place, so he thought of this cabin. On one of Jefferson's trips my uncle spent a weekend hiding the collection out here in the chimney lining. But at the time he didn't tell me where,” Hanleigh complained. “The next I heard about the collection was when he died and I came into possession of the notebook with a clue to this island and the secret code.”

“Was it part of your tape measure we found in the chimney?” Frank asked.

Hanleigh nodded. “I guessed the medals were in there or the fireplace, but I couldn't crack the code.”

“We know it was you who ransacked Mr. Jefferson's house at Christmas,” Joe said. “You're wanted by the Bayport police.”

“I was a fool!” Hanleigh confessed. “I thought maybe the old man had found the medals and was keeping them in the house.”

“After you stole our food,” Biff said, “where did you go? We scoured the island for you.”

“I walked back to the mainland road and hitched a ride to Bayport. Those two young punks with the iceboat ran out on me.”

“I guess it was you who came in here the other night,” Chet spoke up. “You knew we were here. Why did you risk it?”

“I had a feeling you were getting close to where the treasure was hidden,” Hanleigh replied. “I wanted to find out if you were searching the chimney, and also to retrieve the notebook. It's rightfully mine. I figured you'd all be asleep.”

Johnny sighed. Joe flung a quizzical look at the boy. “What's the matter?”

“We still haven't solved the main part of the mystery. Nobody knows for sure where the medals are.” Johnny added wistfully, “And I did so want to find them for Gramp.”

Joe grinned. “I've got news for you, Johnny-we' ve cracked the code.”

As the boy exclaimed in delight, Hanleigh groaned and put his head on the table.

“As soon as the storm dies down, we'll start hunting,” Frank said. “If the collection is here, we'll find it.”

They remained in the kitchen for warmth and managed to snatch a couple hours' sleep. The rest of the night passed fitfully.

Shortly after daybreak, Frank awoke and stretched his aching muscles. Noticing that the wind had abated, he opened the door to the big room. Things were topsy-turvy and under a blanket of snow. “The fireplace of the chimney first,” he thought. Returning to the kitchen, he awakened the others. “Rise and shine, fellows! We have some treasure hunting to do, remember?”

After a quick breakfast, Frank said, “Joe-Biff, how about giving me a boost up the fireplace chimney?”

Frank turned on his flashlight and started to crawl into the fireplace.

At that moment the front door burst open. Two men stepped in.

“Hold it!” said a sharp voice. “You're under arrest! All of you!”

WHIRLING in astonishment, the boys saw two stern-faced harbor policemen striding toward them through the debris in the living room.

The Hardys recognized them as Lieutenant Daley and Officer Thorne.

“We're taking you all into custody!” barked Daley. “Where's the stolen iceboat?”

At that moment Hanleigh appeared at the kitchen door. “What's going on?” he asked, then gasped at the sight of the policemen. Despite his injured leg, he bolted for the back door.

Frank and Joe dashed forward and seized him. “Here's your thief, Lieutenant Daley,” Joe said as they hustled the big man into the living room.

The officer stared, astonished, upon recognizing the brothers. “The Hardys!” Daley exclaimed. “Didn't know you at first. You all look a little beat up.”

Joe introduced the others. “We've been roughing it and trying to solve a couple of mysteries.”

“They solved them, too,” Chet put in proudly.

Johnny Jefferson stepped forward. “That's true,” he said. “Frank and Joe and their pals have been working on a case for my grandfather, Elroy Jefferson.”

“Then you must be Johnny Jefferson!” Lieutenant Daley exclaimed.

“Yes, the Hardys found me.”

“Well, I'll be a frozen rookie!” Officer Thorne burst out. “We've been on the lookout for you!”

“Leave it to the Hardys,” said Daley, tilting back his hat and scratching his head. “A couple of chips off the old block. How's your dad?”

“Fine,” Frank replied, then told their story which included the wrecking of the
Hawk.
Hand-cuffs were snapped on Hanleigh.

“You can't take me to jail,” he argued. “I'm a sick man.”

“You'll be taken care of,” Daley said firmly.

“By the way,” Joe spoke up, “who accused us of stealing the iceboat?”

Lieutenant Daley explained that an anonymous phone call to headquarters had reported the theft, and revealed that the culprits were hiding on Cabin Island.

“Ike or Tad made that call, no doubt,” Frank said.

Biff grinned. “Those two would be burned up if they knew they'd done us a favor tipping off the police.”

Chet gave a wry chuckle. “Those guys will have a real surprise when they see the
Hawk.”

Daley added, “We didn't want to bother Mr. Jefferson until we found out what was going on here, so we came straight over.”

Hanleigh declared he was unable to walk. The police were unsympathetic. “You seemed to manage okay when you were trying to get away,” Daley said. “So you certainly can hike across the cove to where our squad car is parked.”

The lieutenant smiled at Johnny. “We'll tell your grandfather you're safe and in good hands.”

Johnny pleaded that he himself wished to surprise his grandfather. “Besides, I want to take him his medals. I know the Hardys can find them.”

“We'll give it a good try,” Frank promised.

The two policemen agreed to keep the secret, and left with their prisoner, who complained bitterly as he was escorted from the cabin.

Without further delay the boys gathered around the hearth. “Now for the rosewood box!” exclaimed Joe, and went for a flexible tape measure he had seen in the toolbox.

“What do you look for first?” Biff asked.

“A loose stone, nine feet up the front,” Frank replied. He ducked into the soot-blackened fireplace and stood up. “Lucky it's a wide chimney,” he remarked, picking up his flashlight. “Well, here goes. Give me a boost, somebody.”

Biff crouched down in the fireplace and Frank sat astride his broad shoulders. Slowly Biff stood up, grasping his friend's legs. Frank unwound the tape, and with the aid of his flashlight, found the nine-foot level. He marked this off with chalk and handed the tape to Biff.

Then Frank began testing the stones in order from right to left. All felt tightly in place, but suddenly Frank touched a joint of mortar which crumbled beneath his fingers.

“This looks much lighter in color,” he observed, “as if too much sand was used in the mix.”

“Any luck?” came Joe's eager voice from below.

“Not yet. But I've come across something I want to investigate.”

“Need help?”

“You can hold this light.”

Joe squirmed in beside Biff and took the flashlight from his brother. Frank drew out his pen-knife and inserted the blade tip into the mortar, which surrounded a large oblong stone. The substance fell off readily. Frank then grasped the rock and pulled hard. It gave a little.

“Hey!” exclaimed Joe. “What's cooking?”

“I'm not sure,” Frank replied, “but I've just dug out some mortar I think was mixed by an amateur.”

“Sparewell?”

“Yes. He must have mortared the back of this rock, though. I need a lever.”

“Hold on. I'll get something.”

Joe hurried to bring the chisel. Frank placed it beneath the rock and worked the tool up and down. Finally the big stone moved. Now Frank used the chisel on both sides, prying the rock loose still more. Again he pulled hard on it. This time the stone came out in his hands. Quickly he gave it to Joe, who beamed the light upward into the space. Frank saw that his guess had been correct! Working carefully, he succeeded in extracting a long, flat box.

“I've found it!” he gasped.

Frank scrambled down from Biffs shoulders and the trio emerged from the fireplace with sooty grins of triumph. Breathless, Frank flipped open the catch and raised the lid. Set in velvet was an array of handsome, gleaming medals!

For a moment all the boys stared at the treasure, then Chet exclaimed, “Wow! They're real beauties!”

Biff pounded the Hardys on the back while Johnny burst out, “Frank and Joe, you're the world's greatest detectives!”

His face shining with joy, he urged that they return to Bayport immediately. “I can't wait to give the medals to Gramp.”

“We ought to clean up some of this damage before we go,” Frank said.

“Chet and I will take care of that,” Biff volunteered. “We'll board up the broken window and sweep out the snow and debris.”

Frank grinned. “Okay, then. As soon as Joe and I wash this chimney dirt off and change clothes, we'll hit the road.”

“I wish we could whiz home in your iceboat,” Johnny said, “but it's impossible with all that snow.”

“We'll come back for the
Sea Gull
when the ice is clear,” said Joe. “You can ride in it then.”

In a short time the Hardys were trudging across the cove with Johnny between them, clutching the rosewood box.

On the main road they hitched a ride to the Hardy boathouse. The trio were just about to climb into the convertible when Joe spotted a familiar sedan pulling into the parking area.

“It's Dad!” he exclaimed. The boys hurried to meet Mr. Hardy.

The investigator smiled broadly upon being introduced to Johnny Jefferson and learning of the successful outcome of the Cabin Island mystery. “Great work!” he praised his sons, and added, “I'll confess I've been uneasy ever since I sent that message and left you the note at home. So when I returned today I decided to go to the island, even if I had to hike!”

“You were right, Dad, about Hanleigh. He was out to get us,” Frank declared. “Where did you learn about him?”

“I asked Chief Collig to brief me on the Christmas night break-in at Mr. Jefferson‘s,” Mr. Hardy explained. “Shortly after you boys had left on your camping trip, the fingerprint report came back. So I hurried to the dock here, hoping one of your friends would give me a lift.

“Just then I saw an iceboat put in near our boathouse. I recognized the Nash and Carson boys aboard and soon realized the big blond man with them was Hanleigh. They were talking loudly about you and made some pretty nasty threats. They were gone before I could nab Hanleigh myself.”

“So you sent Mack Malone to warn us!” Joe said.

“Right,” his father replied. He had alerted Chief Collig and the Bayport squad had been on the lookout for Hanleigh. “He was a crafty customer with that iceboat taxi,” Mr. Hardy said, “and gave everybody the slip until you fellows nailed him.”

The famous detective also told the boys that just before leaving home he had received directly from Collig word of Hanleigh's arrest. The prisoner had made a formal confession-to taking the Hawk, breaking into Mr. Jefferson's house, and scheming to steal the medals. “He also admitted the attack on Joe,” Mr. Hardy concluded.

“What about Ike and Tad?” Frank asked.

“They won't be charged as accomplices, since they did not know what Hanleigh was up to,” Mr. Hardy replied.

“But twice those two tried to wreck our boat,” Joe said hotly. “And they accused us of stealing the
Hawk!”

“I know,” said Mr. Hardy. “But both say they were only joking. Don't worry,” the detective added with a grin, “Chief Collig gave them a stiff lecture. They won't dare get out of line for a long time.”

Frank smiled. “Anyway, they'll be too busy repairing their iceboat to make any more trouble.”

A short time later the Hardys and Johnny stood at the front door of the Jefferson home.

As Frank reached toward the doorbell, Johnny cried out, “Wait! I—I can't go in! Gramp will be angry!”

“No, he'll be happy to see you,” Frank reassured the younger boy. “Besides, you have a surprise for him, remember?”