The Secret Warning (2 page)

When Frank mentioned the mysterious cablegram, the sleuth reacted with keen interest. “That message relates to the case we're working on, son, and it could provide an important lead. I'll fill you and Joe in on all the details as soon as I return.”

Next, Frank told about Captain Early's visit.

“Hmm. Certainly sounds as if something more is involved than an ordinary case of breaking and entering,” Mr. Hardy said. “But there's not much I can do from here. You and Joe will have to handle it for the time being. Say, there is one thing you can do for me.”

“Yes, Dad?”

“Ask Captain Early what he knows about the legend of Whalebone Island.”

Mystified, Frank signed off and returned to the living room. At the mention of Whalebone Island, Captain Early's ruddy face paled.

“Great Scott!” he exclaimed.
“It can't be!”

“What's wrong, sir?” Frank asked.

The Navy man hesitated before replying. “Whalebone Island, as you probably know, lies off the coast, south of here. In colonial days it was the hideout of a ruthless pirate named Red Rogers. Of course you've heard the term ‘Jolly Roger'?”

Frank said, “The skull and crossbones?”

“Right. And the same name was sometimes given to Red Rogers because of his bloodthirsty sense of humor.”

Captain Early went on slowly, “Red Rogers always wore a black cloak and had a bushy red beard and a scar which pulled down the corner of one eye.”

“Wow!” Joe gasped. “Just like that fellow you saw outside tonight!”

Captain Early nodded. “Exactly. After Rogers was killed in a sea fight, the island was pretty much avoided. In fact, it was said to be haunted.”

At that moment the captain's story was interrupted by a flash of lightning, followed by a deafening clap of thunder which seemed to shake the whole house. A second later the darkness outside was lit up by a blinding flash of lightning.

“Look!” Joe yelled and pointed.

A red-bearded figure in a black cloak was peering through the window!

A ghostly figure was peering through the window!

 

 

 

 

 

T
HE lightning flickered out, and the ghostly figure was gone almost instantly. Frank and Joe leaped to their feet and rushed to the front door, followed by Captain Early hobbling on his cane.

Ignoring the gusty torrents of rain, the boys dashed out into the stormy darkness and around the corner of the house. Not a soul was in sight. The Hardys separated to search the whole yard, but even when another jagged flash of lightning lit up the night with daylike brilliance they could see no sign of the figure which had appeared at the window.

“It's hopeless!” Frank groaned. “Let's get back inside before we drown!”

Drenched to the skin, the brothers changed into dry clothes before resuming their conversation with Captain Early.

“Did anyone live on Whalebone Island in those old days that you were telling us about?” Frank asked.

“No, except for fishermen who camped there overnight or put up temporary huts from time to time. I suppose the stories of ghosts on the island may have arisen because members of Red Rogers' crew were said to be returning there secretly.”

“Maybe to dig up buried treasure!” put in Joe.

“Possibly,” the Navy man agreed with a smile. “Or fugitives from the law may have hidden there occasionally. At any rate, the spooky legends of Jolly Roger and his cutthroats finally died out, and sometime in the eighteen-hundreds a lighthouse was erected on Whalebone Island. Then, in the closing days of World War II, a lighthouse keeper there named Tang went out of his mind.”

“How come?” Frank asked.

Captain Early gave a shrug. “He claimed the island was being haunted again by Red Rogers' ghost. More likely, he'd just cracked up under the loneliness and isolation, I suppose. Anyhow, soon after that the lighthouse was closed down.”

“Because of what happened to Tang?” Joe asked.

“No, no. The equipment was outdated and a new light, much more powerful, had been built on Dory Point to serve that same general coastal area.”

“What's on the island now?” Frank inquired.

“Nothing. It's abandoned as far as I know.”

The brothers were greatly intrigued. Any hint of mystery attracted them, and many times had plunged them into exciting sleuthing adventures. One of their first had been locating
The Tower Treasure.
Recently, they had successfully uncovered the secret of A
Figure in Hiding.

Captain Early tucked his pipe into his pocket. “Well, boys, it's been a pleasant visit, but I'd better be starting back. As a matter of fact, this is far later than I intended to linger in town.”

The navy officer explained that he had had motor trouble while driving to Bayport. “I had to call for a tow car from a garage. That's why I arrived here by taxi. By the way, may I use your phone?”

“Of course. Help yourself,” Frank replied.

The captain checked with the garage and hung up, frowning. “Drat the luck, my car needs a new distributor, and they can't get one till morning.”

Frank and Joe immediately urged Captain Early to stay overnight. Grateful but embarrassed, he accepted. Frank showed the captain to the first-floor guest room and laid out pajamas and bathrobe, while Joe wrote a note to his mother and aunt telling them about the unexpected overnight guest. He stuck it on the hall mirror.

Then the boys went upstairs to bed, leaving only a hallway light burning for their mother and Aunt Gertrude. Soon the household was dark and silent, except for the steady patter of the rain.

Some time later Frank awoke with a start. From below came confused sounds, topped by a shrill angry voice and punctuated by the sudden clash of china being broken. The latter noise roused Joe.

“Good night!” he muttered. “What's going on?”

“That's Aunt Gertrude's voice!” Frank exclaimed. “Come on! We'd better get down there!”

The boys dashed downstairs, almost colliding with their slim, attractive mother, who was on her way up.

“What's wrong, Mom?” Joe cried out.

“G-g-goodness, I hardly know!” Mrs. Hardy stammered. “Somebody peeked out of our guest room as we entered the house, and Aunt Gertrude went after him.”

Gulping with dismay, Frank and Joe ran to the scene of combat.

“Take that, you scoundrel!” they heard Aunt Gertrude shriek. “I'll teach you to break into houses.”

Frank groped for the wall switch and instantly the guest room was ablaze with light. Captain Early was backing toward a closet, striving to protect himself, while the boys' tall, angular maiden aunt poked at him with her wet umbrella.

“Aunt Gertrude! Please!” Frank exclaimed. “This is Captain Early—our guest!”

“Oh, my goodness, it is!” said Aunt Gertrude, adjusting her spectacles. “Why on earth didn't you say so?”

“Madam, I've been trying to,” the captain replied, slipping into his bathrobe.

He explained that when he had heard footsteps in the hall, he thought it might have been the intruder they had seen at the window.

“So I peered out the door,” he said, “and—wham!” Then, to the relief of the Hardys, Captain Early burst into hearty laughter. Even the women had to chuckle at his predicament, and when Joe mentioned the note on the mirror, Miss Hardy confessed she had not seen it.

When the hilarity quieted down, the captain had tea with his hosts before retiring again.

The next morning at breakfast time, the doorbell rang in loud, persistent spurts.

“I'll get it,” said Frank, rising from the table and hurrying to the front door.

The caller was a large, burly man with iron-gray hair. “Where's Fenton Hardy?” he demanded roughly.

“My father's not home,” said Frank. “May I—”

“Get out of my way!” The man shoved him aside and started into the house.

Frank reacted angrily. “Wait a minute!” he said, grabbing the man's arm. “Just who are you and what do you want?”

The man's jaw jutted. “You'll find out—and mighty soon!”

The two might have come to blows, if the sounds of their altercation had not reached the dining room. Joe came hurrying to see what was wrong, the captain limping after him.

At sight of the Navy man, the visitor stopped short. His threatening snarl changed to a sullen scowl. For a moment there was dead silence, then the stranger muttered to Frank:

“You tell Fenton Hardy that if Gus Bock ever finds him, he's in for trouble!”

Without another word, the visitor turned and stalked out the door.

 

 

 

 

 

B
OTH the Hardys and Captain Early were too taken aback to speak for a moment.

“What the dickens
was that
all about?” Joe said finally.

“This man wanted to see Dad about something and got sore when I said he wasn't home.” Frank turned to the captain. “The sight of you seemed to quiet him, sir. Do you know him?”

Captain Early shook his head slowly. “No. He did look a bit familiar, but I can't seem to place him—Wait a minute.”

Suddenly the Navy man snapped his fingers. “Gus Bock! Of course! He was a bos'n third on the last destroyer I commanded. Always did have an ugly temper. Had him up before the mast many times. Believe I heard later he was court-martialed for threatening an officer.”

“Any idea what he's doing now?” asked Joe.

“Hmm. Well, I know he put in for frogman training—he and another young chap who served under me on the
Svenson.
And much later I heard he was working as a commercial diver—but that was several years ago.”

“Wonder what he has against Dad,” Joe mused.

“Nothing serious, I hope,” said Captain Early. “That fellow's a bad customer.”

“Dad can take care of himself,” Frank said confidently. “Let's go finish our breakfast. Sorry for the interruption, Captain.”

Their aunt peered at the boys inquisitively as they returned to the table. When neither spoke, she said, “Sounded like some troublemaker. Who was he?”

Frank and Joe assumed blank, innocent expressions. Although their aunt would never admit it, she secretly followed the Hardys' mystery cases with avid interest, and both boys could see that she was consumed with curiosity over the caller.

“Just someone to see Dad,” Frank said casually.

“I assumed that. I asked who he was.”

“He said his name was Gus Bock.”

Miss Hardy fixed Frank with a gimlet stare, then turned to Joe. The boys' eyes were twinkling. Captain Early
ahem-ed
awkwardly.

“Oh, very well. The matter's of no real concern to me.” Gertrude Hardy sniffed. “But if anything serious happens as a result of that fellow's call, don't come to me later for advice or sympathy!”

The boys choked with laughter, and Frank hastened to explain all to his offended aunt. When he had finished, she commented, “Humph! So Bock is a diver. That probably means your father is on the trail of some sunken treasure, and Bock is trying to scare him off. This modern underwater craze is entirely too dangerous, anyhow. If Fenton is wise, he'll have nothing to do with the case.”

With a slight smile, the boys' mother gently changed the subject. After breakfast Joe suggested to his brother that they check outside for footprints of the person they had seen in front of the window the night before. As they expected, however, the few faint traces had been all but obliterated by the rain.

“Tough luck,” Frank said. “Well, at least the storm's over and the sun's out. Hey, here comes the mail!”

The postman was just ambling up the walk with his leather pouch. He greeted the boys with a cheery hello and handed over a sheaf of letters. Joe thumbed through them.

“Anything for me?” Frank asked.

“No. Just ads, mostly, and business stuff for Dad.” Suddenly Joe stopped to stare at one envelope. “Say, here's a queer one—Leapin' lizards! Look at the sender's name on this, Frank!”

The older boy examined the envelope. It was addressed to Fenton Hardy in crudely printed, red-inked letters. Far more startling was the sender's name and address in the upper left-hand corner:

“Good night!” Frank gasped. “The same name as the pirate Captain Early told us about!”