"And now that Aunt Gertrude is coming, you won't be afraid to stay here alone," Joe pointed out.
Mrs. Hardy smiled. "And you'll leave me here all alone to the mercies of that managing woman?"
"There's not much use having usallhere. Aunt Gertrude will run things anyway, whether there's three of us or a hundred."
"Yes, I suppose so. Well, I shan't be afraid to stay here as long as Aunt Gertrude is in the house. I imagine any burglar would rather deal with a vicious bulldog. Go ahead on your trip. When do you intend to start?"
"As soon as we can see Tony Prito and the rest of the boys. We want to make a real searching party of it. By the way, when will Aunt Gertrude arrive?"
"On the four o'clock train, I expect."
"Then we'll leave at about three o'clock," declared Frank, with a grin, for the boys' dislike of their tyrannical aunt was no secret in the Hardy household.
Mrs. Hardy smiled reprovingly, and the lads hustled away in search of Tony and the other boys.
Tony Prito was afire with enthusiasm when they broached the subject to him. A few words with Mr. Prito, and he obtained permission to have the use of theNapolifor as long as would be necessary.
"We'll start out as soon as we can get ready," Frank told him. "See if you can get Jerry and Phil to go with you, and we'll go and look up Perry Robinson. Perhaps he'll come along with us. We don't want to lose any time."
Perry Robinson, more familiarly known as "Slim," readily agreed to accompany the boys on the search.
"You bet I'll go," he declared. "When do we start?"
"Three o'clock, if we can be ready by then. Meet us at the boathouse and bring along some grub."
"I'll be there," promised Slim.
The Hardy boys carried blankets and a small tent down to the boat and stowed them away. Then came cooking utensils and a supply of food sufficient to last them for several days. They would, of course, be able to get supplies at the fishing villages along the coast, but as they had no idea where their search would lead them they were determined to take no chances.
"Thank goodness we'll be away from here before Aunt Gertrude arrives," chuckled Frank, as the boys were putting on their outing clothes at two o'clock that afternoon.
"She'll be madder than a wet hen when she finds we've escaped her. If there's anything she likes better than bossing us around and showing us our faults, I don't know what it is."
Alas for the best laid plans! Aunt Gertrude must have had some premonition of the truth. She advanced the time of her arrival by a good two hours. The two o'clock train brought her to Bayport, bags, baggage, and Lavinia, the cat. The boys were first apprised of her advent when they heard a taxicab pull up in front of the house. Joe peeped out the window of their room.
"Sweet spirits of nitre! Aunt Gertrude herself!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"Let me see!"
Frank rushed to the window in time to see Aunt Gertrude, attired in voluminous garments of a fashion dating back at least a decade, laboriously emerging from the taxicab. She was a large woman with a strident voice, and the Hardy boys could hear her vigorously disputing the amount of the fare. This was a matter of principle with Aunt Gertrude, who always argued with taxi drivers as a matter of course, it being her firm conviction that they were unanimously in a conspiracy to overcharge her and defraud her at all times.
With Lavinia under one arm and a huge umbrella under the other, Aunt Gertrude withered the taxicab driver with a fiery denunciation and, when he helplessly pointed to the meter and declared that figures did not lie, she dropped both cat and umbrella, rummaged about in the manifold recesses of her clothing for a very small purse, produced the exact amount of the fare in silver, counted it out and handed it to the man with the air of one giving alms.
"And, just for your impudence, you shan't have a tip!" she announced. "Carry my bags up to the house."
The driver gazed sadly at the silver in his hand, pocketed it and clambered back into the car.
"Carry 'em up yourself!" he advised, slamming the door. The taxi roared away down the street.
Frank chuckled.
"That's one on Aunt Gertrude!"
But Aunt Gertrude had no intention of carrying the bags up to the house. Suddenly she glared up at the window from which the two boys had been watching the scene.
"You two boys up there!" she shouted. "I see you. Don't think I can't see you! Come down here and carry up my bags. Hustle now!"
They hustled.
Wreckage
"Good night! We'll be lucky if we get away on the trip at all!" exclaimed Frank, as he and Joe hastened down the stairs.
Mrs. Hardy was already at the front door welcoming Aunt Gertrude, who was expatiating on the wickedness of taxi drivers in general.
"So!" she ejaculated, as the boys appeared. "Standing up at a front window laughing at your great-aunt instead of coming down and helping carry up her bags like little gentlemen! I'm surprised at you!"
"We were just getting dressed, Aunt Gertrude," explained Frank meekly.
"Getting dressed, eh!" snorted Aunt Gertrude, taking in their attire. "Getting dressed! What kind of an outfit do you call that?" She poked Joe in the ribs with her umbrella, indicating the faded khaki shirt he was wearing. "Speak up, boy! What kind of an outfit is that? No necktie. Holes in your trousers. Shoes not shined."
"We were just getting ready to go on a boat trip, Aunt Gertrude," Joe explained.
"Boat trip! Boat trip! No! That settles it!" declared Aunt Gertrude, coming into the house and banging the umbrella decisively on the floor by way of emphasis. "I shan't allow it. The very idea! Laura," she said, turning to Mrs. Hardy, "I'm surprised at you. Ab-so-lute-ly astonished! The very idea of letting these children go out in a boat! Don't you remember what happened to my Cousin Peter? He went out in a boat, didn't he? And what happened? The boat upset. He might have been drowned if the water had been deep enough. Thank goodness he was only a few feet from shore. But it only goes to show whatcanhappen. If these boys go out in a boat they'll be drowned. I can't permit them to be drowned. They shan't go on any boat trip. That settles it!" She strode into the living room. "Boys—bring in my bags!" she commanded.
Mrs. Hardy smiled, for she was quite accustomed to the eccentricities of Aunt Gertrude, and the Hardy boys scuttled down the front steps for the baggage.
"Do you think she means it?" whispered Joe.
"Sure, she means it. But we'll get out somehow. She'll rave for a while, but she'll forget all about it when she starts to show mother how to run the house."
The boys deposited Aunt Gertrude's luggage in the guest room, then went downstairs for inspection. By this time the old lady had taken off her coat and hat and was seated in the most comfortable chair, fanning herself with a newspaper.
"Boat trip!" she was snorting, as they entered the room. "Never heard of such a thing. Letting little boys like that go out in a boat alone. If they weremyboys I wouldn't let them out of my sight. Up to some mischief, I'll be bound."
"They are going out to look for two chums of theirs who have been lost for three days," Mrs. Hardy explained.
"And serve them right! I suppose they were out on a boat trip, too. I knew it! And now they're lost. That's what happens when you let children go out in boats. They get lost. Or drowned. And now you would let these two youngsters go out in a boat, too. And I suppose in a few days some of their chums would have to go out in a boat to look forthem. They'd get lost, too. And then some more little boys would go out to look forthem. And they'd get lost. By the end of the summer there wouldn't be a boy left in Bayport. Not that it would be much of a loss," sniffed Aunt Gertrude; "but I hate to see people making fools of themselves."
"Did you have a pleasant journey?" asked Mrs. Hardy, anxious to change the subject.
"Did Ieverhave a pleasant journey?" countered Aunt Gertrude. "What with the rudeness of conductors and ticket-sellers and baggage-men and taxi drivers there's no enjoyment in traveling nowadays. ButIput 'em in their place. I know my rights and I insist on them!"
She glared ferociously about the room as though confronting a multitude of conductors, baggage-men and taxi drivers awaiting judgment.
"Now, boys! what are you staring at? Don't you know it's rude to be staring at people? Run away and play. I want to talk to your mother. Run away and play! Shoo!" She brandished the umbrella at them and the Hardy boys left the room precipitately. Their mother excused herself for a moment and followed them into the hall.
"Run!" she said, smiling. "I'll take care of Aunt Gertrude. Run along while you have the chance."
They kissed their mother good-bye and hastily departed, wondering how she was to explain their flight to the terrible Aunt Gertrude, in view of that lady's melancholy predictions concerning their fate should they venture out in the boat.
They found Slim Robinson waiting for them at the boathouse, and with many chuckles the boys told him of their escape from the tyrant who would have prevented their departure.
"We'd better hurry or she'll be down here after us if she finds we've got away from her," declared Joe.
"Tony and the other fellows are over in the other boathouse," Slim told them. "I think they're ready now."
"All right. Let's be going."
Frank started the engine of theSleuthand the motorboat moved slowly out into the open bay. He steered a course for the entrance to Prito's boathouse, where Tony and the others were waiting. As soon as Tony saw him he started his own craft, and theNapolinosed its way out abreast of them.
"All set?" shouted Frank.
"All set."
"Away we go."
The two boats drummed their way out into Barmet Bay and headed out toward the sea, side by side, picking up speed when they had threaded their way through the shipping near the docks.
It was evening before they reached the first village on the coast, after leaving the bay, and although they made numerous inquiries they failed to find any trace of their chums. No one in the village had seen or heard a motorboat during the storm, although they readily admitted that the craft might have passed without being noticed, owing to the gloom and the violence of the gale. The chums spent the night at this village and resumed their journey the next morning, going farther up the coast.
Their progress was necessarily slow because there were numerous small villages and they stopped at them all to make inquiries.
But in every case the answer was the same.
No motorboat answering to the description of theEnvoyhad been seen. None of the fishermen had heard of the craft.
"It's ten chances to one that they was wrecked in that storm," an old fisherman at one of the villages declared when they told him their story. "Unless they were mighty lucky they wouldn't get past Ragged Reef. They might get this far up the coast, but they'd never get past the Reef."
"Where is that?"
"Not far from here. Up past the next point. Seems to me I heard one of the boys sayin' this mornin' that there was some wreckage on the reef yesterday. There's none of our boats missin' from hereabouts, so mebby it's them young fellers."
The two motorboats thereupon started for Ragged Reef. The lads were downhearted. They had little hope that they would ever find their two companions alive. The words of the old fisherman struck terror into their hearts.
When they rounded the point they saw the black and ominous line of Ragged Reef before them. A jagged and irregular series of rocks jutting above the surface of the water in the form of a huge semicircle—this was the reef on which theEnvoymight have come to grief.
Fortunately, the day was calm so that the searchers were able to venture more closely to the reef than they might have otherwise dared. Frank edged theSleuthin toward the rocks as closely as possible. Suddenly he gave an exclamation:
"The fisherman was right! Thereiswreckage there!"
He pointed to a few broken fragments of wood that could be discerned against the rocks. Joe picked up the marine glasses and peered at the fragments for some time.
"It's wreckage of a boat of some kind," he declared gravely, lowering the glasses at last. "But whether it's from theEnvoyor not, I couldn't say."
Slim also looked through the glasses. He was able to see more fragments of wreckage farther along the reef.
"Some boat has been battered to pieces along here. There isn't enough wreckage left to tell whether it was a motorboat or a sailing vessel." He scrutinized the mainland. "Nothing there," he announced finally. "Not a sign of life—nor wreckage either. It's all on the reef."
So interested had the boys been in the fragments of broken wood on the jagged rocks that they had not noticed that the motorboat was edging in closer to the reef. There was a strong current at this point and, unnoticed by the boys, the boat was being carried irresistibly forward.
A warning shout from the lads in theNapolitold them of their danger.
Frank had throttled down the engine so that theSleuthhad been almost drifting. Now he sprang for the helm, conscious of the peril that had crept so insidiously upon them.
The great black rocks of the reef loomed closer. The motorboat seemed to be dragged mercilessly toward its doom. The powerful current had the craft firmly in its grasp!
The Strange Letter
The engine roared as Frank Hardy opened the throttle and bore down on the helm of theSleuth.
The grip of the current about the reef was so strong that, for a moment, it seemed that the motorboat could not fight against it. Then, slowly, the craft swung about, seemed to remain motionless for a moment, and then began to forge ahead, away from the reef.
Fighting against the force of the current, the motorboat made slow progress. Still, it was gaining ground. The boys waited tensely, as the craft struggled out of danger. Gradually, theSleuthdrew away from the reef, gradually the grip of the current relaxed. Frank cautiously nosed the boat over to the left and managed to get out of the current altogether.
The whole affair had occurred in a few seconds, but it had seemed an eternity to the boys in the boat and their chums in the other craft. It would only have been a matter of moments before they might have been swept swiftly down onto the treacherous reef.
"That'll teach me to watch where I'm going," said Frank, as he sat back and mopped his brow.
"There was mighty near a lot more wreckage on that reef," remarked Slim soberly. "The boat wouldn't have lasted long if we'd piled up on those rocks."
"I'll say it wouldn't! I think we'd better get away from here. We'll never be able to get close enough to identify that wreckage. Might as well go on up the coast."
They drew up alongside theNapoliand, after discussing the narrow escape they had just had from being cast up on the reef, acquainted the other boys with their decision to continue the search.
"There's no use trying to get closer to that wreckage," declared Frank. "It's all in small pieces and we probably wouldn't be able to say whether it was from theEnvoyor not, if we did reach it. We may as well go on up the coast and keep making inquiries at the other villages."
This plan they followed, but to no avail.
Their inquiries were fruitless. TheEnvoy, with Chet and Biff, seemed to have vanished into thin air. At none of the fishing villages were they able to find any one who had seen or heard of the missing motorboat. As for the wreckage on the reef, no one was found who could enlighten them. Two or three fishing boats had been wrecked during the storm, but they had met their fate farther up the coast and in each case the scene of the wreck was known to the fishermen.
"It might have been your friend's boat, and it might have been only some old wreckage washed down the coast by the storm," said one keen-eyed salt. "You'd best give up the search. If they're drowned, they're drowned, and that's all there is to it. If they were wrecked and managed to save themselves they'll make their way to the nearest village and they'll get home from there without any trouble. If you haven't found any trace of them by now there isn't much use going any further, for they would never have got this far up the coast having been seen by some of the fishermen."
The boys reluctantly agreed that his advice was sound. They turned back for Bayport.
When they returned to the city and reported that their quest had been unsuccessful they were scarcely prepared for the sensation that the news aroused. The Hoopers were frantic with anxiety, as their last hopes were dashed. The Mortons were almost stunned. They had hoped against hope that the search would bring them at least some news of the missing boys.
The local papers featured the story and the city was aroused. In every village and town along the coast, to north and south, people were discussing the mysterious disappearance of the motorboat and its human freight. Fishermen were on the lookout for any trace of the craft. The coast guards promised to do all in their power to clear up the mystery.
But, when three days more went by and there was still not the slightest solution in sight, the opinion became general that the boat had been wrecked in the storm and had gone to the bottom. The two boys were given up for lost. The Hardy boys and their chums were gradually forced to the belief that Chet and Biff had perished.
Then came an incident that temporarily drove the tragic affair from the minds of Frank and Joe, because it concerned their own home more intimately.
Aunt Gertrude had greeted them on their return with a barrage of scathing comment on their disobedience in leaving on the trip in spite of her avowed disapproval, and she expressed the greatest amazement because they had returned alive after all.
"You may thank Providence that you got back," she declared in her characteristically brusque fashion. "It was through no skill of your own, I'll be bound. Your poor mother and me were worried to death all the time you were away—gallivanting over the ocean."
Aunt Gertrude did not add that Mrs. Hardy's worries had been chiefly occasioned by her aunt's dire predictions of the certain death that awaited the boys on the search. However, her tone was modified somewhat when she realized that they had indeed been hunting for the missing chums and she made it her business to call on the Hoopers and the Mortons to condole with them, for she was a good-hearted soul in her own way—although it is to be feared that her condolences did more to add to the certainty that the boys were drowned than they served to cheer up the sorrowing parents.
The third day after the Hardy boys returned she was sorting over the morning mail, having duly taken charge of every department of the household.
"Ha!" she exclaimed, holding a letter up to the light. "Here's a letter addressed to Fenton Hardy. Bad news in it, I'll be bound."
Aunt Gertrude could smell bad news a mile away, Frank often said.
"Bad news in it. I can tell. I dreamed about haystacks last night. Haystacks! Whenever I dream about haystacks it means bad news. I never knew it to fail. Open the letter, Laura."
"But it isn't addressed to me," objected Mrs. Hardy.
"Fiddlesticks! It's addressed to your husband, isn't it? You have as much right to open it as he has. More. It's a wife's duty to help her husband as much as she can and look after his affairs for him. Man and wife are one, aren't they? Open the letter."
Mrs. Hardy, with some misgivings, slit open the envelope and Aunt Gertrude, who was possessed of an insatiable curiosity, immediately seized the letter.
"I'll read it for you!" she offered.
"'Fenton Hardy—Bayport,'" she began. "'Dear Sir: We wish to inform you that we have—' My goodness! What's this? What's this? Gracious me!" She lapsed into unintelligible mutterings as she read the rest of the letter to herself, frequently giving vent to exclamations of surprise while her eyes widened with astonishment.
Mrs. Hardy and the boys could hardly contain their impatience until at last Aunt Gertrude laid down the letter and peered triumphantly at them over her spectacles.
"Didn't I say so?" she demanded stridently. "Didn't I say there was bad news in this letter? Didn't I tell you I dreamed of haystacks last night? Haystacks always mean bad news." She looked at the letter again. "Although for the life of me I can't imagine what the man means. Hum! Kidnapped!" She looked up suddenly at the Hardy boys and glared at them.
"You boys haven't been kidnapped lately? No. Of course not. What nonsense! Has any one tried to kidnap you?"
"No, Aunt Gertrude," said Frank, utterly mystified.
"Then," demanded Aunt Gertrude, pushing the letter across to Mrs. Hardy and folding her arms as though prepared to wait until doomsday for a satisfactory answer, "what does this letter mean?"
Mrs. Hardy picked up the letter and read it aloud, while an expression of amazement crossed her face.
"Fenton Hardy—Bayport," ran the letter. "Dear Sir: We wish to inform you that we are holding your two sons in a safe place and that we will not return them to you unless you agree to the following conditions: You must pay us the sum of $5000 as ransom, you must agree to refuse to give evidence in the Asbury Park bank robbery case, and you must further agree to give up your pursuit of our leader, Baldy Turk. These are our conditions. It will do you no good to attempt to find your sons, for we will not hesitate to put them out of the way if you attempt to discover our hiding place. Furthermore, unless you agree to what we ask, it will go hard with them. You may signify your agreement to the terms of this letter by dropping a package containing the money and a signed statement to the effect that you will drop your pursuit of Baldy Turk and that you will not give evidence against our associates in the robbery case from the 5:15 express from Bayport next Thursday afternoon as it passes the grade crossing at the North Road."
"Fenton Hardy—Bayport," ran the letter. "Dear Sir: We wish to inform you that we are holding your two sons in a safe place and that we will not return them to you unless you agree to the following conditions: You must pay us the sum of $5000 as ransom, you must agree to refuse to give evidence in the Asbury Park bank robbery case, and you must further agree to give up your pursuit of our leader, Baldy Turk. These are our conditions. It will do you no good to attempt to find your sons, for we will not hesitate to put them out of the way if you attempt to discover our hiding place. Furthermore, unless you agree to what we ask, it will go hard with them. You may signify your agreement to the terms of this letter by dropping a package containing the money and a signed statement to the effect that you will drop your pursuit of Baldy Turk and that you will not give evidence against our associates in the robbery case from the 5:15 express from Bayport next Thursday afternoon as it passes the grade crossing at the North Road."
The letter was unsigned.
"What on earth does it mean?" asked Mrs. Hardy.
Frank and Joe looked at one another in astonishment. Frank reached over for the letter and examined it. The strange document was typewritten on an ordinary quality of white paper. The envelope bore the Bayport post-mark, indicating that it had been mailed from the city post-office early that morning.
"It must be a practical joke of some kind," said Mrs. Hardy, in perplexity.
"Practical joke, nothing!" scoffed Aunt Gertrude shrewdly. "Did Fenton Hardy go to Chicago after some criminal?"
"He went to arrest Baldy Turk," replied Frank.
"There!" Aunt Gertrude pounded the table. "That explains the whole thing. The companions of this Baldy person sent that letter in the hope that it would bring Fenton Hardy back from Chicago by the next train."
"But the letter is addressed to Bayport."
"Certainly! Why not? They wouldn't know where to reach him in Chicago, so they sent the letter here and trusted that it would be forwarded to him. And ifIhadn't been here," said Aunt Gertrude, "it very probablywouldhave been forwarded to him. Am I right?"
"I usually forward his personal mail," admitted Mrs. Hardy.
"There! Didn't I know it? And look what would have happened. Fenton Hardy would have fallen right into the trap. He would have come back home, thinking his precious sons were kidnapped, and that would have given this Turk person time to get away. It's a blessing I was here, I tell you. I hope this will be a lesson to you, Laura Hardy.Always open your husband's mail!Always!"
Blacksnake Island
In spite of Aunt Gertrude's ingenious explanation of the letter, the Hardy boys were not quite satisfied. When they left the house they walked downtown, discussing the matter.
"Aunt Gertrude may be right, but somehow I think those fellows sent the letter to the house, believing dad was still there," declared Joe.
"But if they knew he was at the house, or thought he was at the house, he would know we weren't kidnapped."
"Yes, that's right," Joe admitted, puzzled. "I'm hanged if I can figure it out, but I still think there is more to that letter than Aunt Gertrude imagines."
"I have that idea myself. You noticed that they were very particular to tell how the ransom money was to be delivered. That was quite an elaborate stunt, to have the money thrown off the train at a grade crossing. That would mean that the crooks could come along in a car, snatch up the package and be away without much risk of capture. They'd hardly go to the trouble of outlining all that if they didn't mean something by it."
"Yes, if the letter was only sent as a blind to bring dad back to Bayport you'd hardly think they'd go into all that detail."
"Still," Frank pointed out, "here we are, safe and sound. Haven't been kidnapped yet, and nobody has tried to kidnap us. If that letter had been sent to Chet's people, for instance, or to the Hoopers, they would have something to worry about." Suddenly he stopped and looked at Joe. "Say!" he exclaimed. "There'san idea!"
"What?"
"Chet and Biff!" declared Frank excitedly. "Don't you see? This may have something to do with them. Chet and Biff are missing. Perhapstheyhave been kidnapped."
"But why should any one kidnap them?" Joe looked wonderingly at his brother.
"In mistake for us. Don't you see it? Perhaps this gang mistook Chet and Biff for you and me and kidnapped them! Then they wrote the letter to dad."
"Gee, I never thought of that!" Joe exclaimed. "I'll bet dollars to doughnuts that you're right."
"Don't you remember the day we were all out in the boat and the three men came so close to us? Remember how closely they looked at Chet and Biff? Perhaps those fellows had been tipped off that you and I were in the boat and wanted to get a look at us so they could identify us when they got a chance to kidnap us. And instead of looking at us, they picked on Chet and Biff. They knew we owned a boat, but they wouldn't know that Biff had one. Therefore they'd think that the chap at the wheel would be either you or me."
"It hangs together, all right. And then, remember when we saw those same three men hanging around the Morton farm? They must have trailed Chet home to see where he lived. And all the time they thought he was either you or me!"
"I think we're getting at the truth of it, Joe. When Chet and Biff started on their trip, those fellows followed them or lay in wait for them some place and captured them."
Just then the Hardy boys met Phil Cohen and Tony Prito in front of the fruit stand of their friend, Nick the Greek, each with a bottle of pop.
"Hello," was Tony's greeting. "Have one?" he invited, indicating the pop.
"Don't mind if we do, even if it is just after breakfast."
Nick the Greek dexterously opened two bottles of pop and slapped them down on the counter. "Hot day, eh?" he said, as the boys reached for straws.
"You bet it's hot." After a satisfying gurgle of the ice-cold pop, the Hardy boys turned to their chums. "We have a clue," declared Frank.
"About what?"
"About Chet and Biff."
"Yes?" Tony and Phil were immediately interested. "What's up?"
Frank then told them of the incident of the letter and, often prompted by his brother, explained how they had connected it with the disappearance of their chums.
"And so," he concluded, "we've figured that Chet and Biff may have been kidnapped in mistake for us."
"There's something in that, too," agreed Phil. "And here's something else that may help. I forgot about it when we were searching for the fellows the other day. Just a little while before they went on their trip I was talking to Chet and Biff and I remember that Biff said he had always wanted to visit Blacksnake Island."
"Blacksnake Island!" exclaimed Frank. "That's the place that is overrun with big blacksnakes, isn't it? Nobody ever goes there."
"That's the place, and that's why it's called Blacksnake Island. And you can't blame people for staying away from it—with a name like that. But Biff had read about it and said he wanted to see what the place was like."
"That's Biff all over," agreed Tony. "But did they decide to go?"
"Chet didn't want to go. Blacksnake Island is down the coast, and Chet wanted to go up the coast."
"Sure! That's why we searched up the coast—because Chet said that was where they were going!" Frank declared.
"Well, Biff kept on saying that he wanted to see Blacksnake Island anyway, and while Chet wasn't very much struck with the idea hemighthave gone there."
"Perhaps they went that way after all. I wish we'd known that when we made our first search. They might have started for Blacksnake Island and got captured on the way." Frank drained the last of his bottle of pop. "Say, I'd like to start another search for them, and go down the coast in that direction. What do you say?"
"I guess I can get away all right," said Tony. "How about you, Phil?"
"It's O.K. with me."
"We'll probably find it hard to get away," said Frank doubtfully. "We'll go home and ask mother, anyway. You see, we're supposed to stay around the house now that dad's away. But Aunt Gertrude is there and if we can make a get-away without her seeing us I guess it'll be all right."
"Look us up if you can make it."
"You bet we will! Let's go home now, Joe, and see if we can go."
The boys separated and Frank and Joe returned home. They found their mother and Aunt Gertrude still discussing the letter.
"It's absolute foolishness, Laura Hardy, that's all it is!" Aunt Gertrude declared. "You'll just scare the man out of his wits and he'll be back here on the first train."
"Well, I've sent the message, and at least I'll know where he is. I haven't had any word from Fenton since he left and it's been making me nervous."
"Fiddlesticks! The man is too busy to write."
"It isn't like him not to drop a line every two or three days. He is usually very particular about it. He always sends me a note at least twice a week while he's away."
"Well," sighed Aunt Gertrude, as though giving it up as a bad job, "I suppose you know your own affairs best; but I'm telling you I wouldnothave sent that telegram. There!" and she picked up her knitting, the needles flashing furiously.
"What's the matter?" asked Frank.
"Little boys should be seen and not heard," grunted Aunt Gertrude, glaring at him over the tops of her spectacles.
"I sent a telegram to your father, telling him about the letter," their mother explained. "I think he should know about it. And, besides, I've been worrying because he hasn't written."
"Where did you address the telegram?"
"He gave me two addresses where I would be sure to find him in Chicago," said Mrs. Hardy. "He gave me the name of the hotel he would be staying at and he also said that Police Headquarters would reach him. I sent the same telegram to each place so I'd be sure to get him."
"Waste of money," sniffed Aunt Gertrude.
At that moment the telephone rang. Mrs. Hardy answered it. The 'phone was in the hallway and the boys could not hear their mother's words, but when she returned to the room a few minutes later they saw that she was pale with apprehension.
"The telegraph company tells me that there is no Fenton Hardy registered at the hotel and that Police Headquarters say he hasn't shown up there either," she announced gravely.
The boys looked at each other in surprise.
"That's strange," said Frank. "And he hasn't written. There's something mighty queer about this!"
Aunt Gertrude, for once, was at a loss for words. The knitting needles remained suspended in mid-air. Behind the spectacles, her eyes were wide and her mouth remained open in astonishment.
"This affair gets more puzzling every minute," remarked Frank, at last. "Of course dad might have been delayed, or he might have picked up a clue that took him away from Chicago after all. But I think he would have written."
"Perhaps he didn't report at Police Headquarters in Chicago because he was afraid Baldy Turk's gang might find out he was in the city," Joe suggested.
"There's something in that."
"But why wouldn't he be at the hotel?" asked Mrs. Hardy.
"He might be there under an assumed name. If Baldy Turk's gang are on the lookout for him he wouldn't register under his real name. They would be checking up on all the hotels to find him if they thought he was in Chicago," said Frank eagerly. "Perhaps that's why your message didn't reach him."
"Of course, that's why!" sniffed Aunt Gertrude, returning to her knitting, much relieved. "Any one might have known that. It was a waste of time to try to reach him with a telegram, and I said that from the start." The needles clashed.
"Oh, I guess we needn't worry about dad very much. He can look after himself," said Frank, with a warning glance at his brother. Nevertheless, he was deeply worried over the fact that the telegraph company had failed to locate his father. However, he was trying to make light of the matter so as to relieve his mother of worry.
Joe saw his motive.
"Sure, dad can look after himself. There's nothing to be alarmed about. He's probably keeping out of sight in Chicago for fear Baldy Turk's gang will find out he is there. If they ever knew he was on their trail they wouldn't stop at trying to kill him. He said so himself. If he tried to communicate with us it might give them just the clue they are waiting for."
"I suppose you're right," Mrs. Hardy agreed, brightening up. "Well, we won't worry about it."
"Of course we won't worry about it!" declared Aunt Gertrude. "Worry is unhealthy. Worry has sent more people to their graves than anything else. Look at me. I never worry. That's why I'm so healthy. I'll live to be a hundred."
"Yes, it would take quite a lot to kill you, Aunt Gertrude," agreed Frank innocently.
Aunt Gertrude looked up at him suspiciously.
"I don't know just what you mean by that, young man, but I'll warrant there's something behind it! What are you two rascals waiting around here for, anyway? What do you want?"
"We were just wanting to talk to mother."
"Well, go ahead. Who's stopping you?Iwon't listen, I'm sure. If it's none of my business you needn't be afraid thatI'lllisten. Not at all. Not at all. Go right ahead. Talk to your mother if you wish. Of course, if you want to leave your poor old aunt out of everything I'm sureIdon't mind. I'm not interested, anyway."
Whereupon Aunt Gertrude indignantly hitched her chair around toward the window and knitted vigorously.
"Go ahead! I'm not listening. Talk away. I won't listen to a word of it," she shrilled.
Mrs. Hardy smiled.
"What is it, boys?"
"I'm not listening," declared Aunt Gertrude.
"We think we've found a new clue about Chet and Biff," said Frank. "We wanted to go on another search for them!"
"What!" shrieked Aunt Gertrude, quite forgetting that she had not been listening. She wheeled about in her chair. "Go on another search for those two boys! Of all the idiotic ideas! Laura Hardy, if you let these two children go gallivanting out into the ocean again it will be against my advice."
"Where are you planning to look for them?" asked Mrs. Hardy.
"Blacksnake Island!"
Aunt Gertrude gasped. In her astonishment she dropped her knitting needles. "Blacksnake Island! Frank Hardy, have you gone completely off your head?"
The Boy on the Deck
Perhaps it was because Mrs. Hardy was determined to show that she was mistress in her own home. At any rate, she gave her consent to the proposed expedition. This was in spite of all Aunt Gertrude's protests and predictions of disaster. The terrible woman raved for an hour when it was definitely decided that the Hardy boys should go on the trip, but Mrs. Hardy was firm. If there was any chance that they might be able to rescue Chet and Biff she meant that they should avail themselves of it.
They explained their theory regarding the letter, and although Aunt Gertrude derided it as nonsense, Mrs. Hardy was disposed to believe that their deductions might be correct.
"You may go," she said. "But take care of yourselves and don't take any foolish chances. I'm worrying enough about your father, as it is."
So the boys left the house before Aunt Gertrude would have an opportunity to change their mother's mind and joyfully acquainted Phil and Tony with the news.
"We're going to start right away," they told their chums. "Better get ready."
"I was speaking to Slim Robinson and Jerry Gilroy," Tony told them. "They want to come along too."
"There isn't room for all of us in the one boat."
"I was thinking of that. What's the matter with the rest of us making the trip in theNapoli? I'll get up another expedition and we'll follow you."
"Good idea. One of the boys can come with us and the rest of you can go in theNapoli. Joe and I are starting right away."
But when it came time to check up on the various members of the searching party they discovered that Tony was the only one who could leave that day. Slim Robinson had to work that afternoon, as also had Jerry Gilroy, while Phil Cohen had an engagement for the evening that he was unable to break.
"We'll all leave in theNapolifirst thing to-morrow morning, then," decided Tony. "You and Joe go ahead in your boat now and head toward Blacksnake Island. We'll be along in the morning."
This was the plan agreed upon, and the Hardy boys lost no time in making ready for the trip. They had the forethought to stock up with provisions for several days, although the run to Blacksnake Island would not take them many hours, because they realized that the search might keep them away from home longer than they expected.
It was afternoon before they were able to get away, and all through the lunch hour they were in a constant state of apprehension lest Aunt Gertrude prevail upon their mother to withdraw her permission for the journey.
"They'll never come back alive, mark my words!" declared their aunt. "They'll be bitten by those snakes on Blacksnake Island, as sure as fate. Why, even grown-up men won't go on that island. It's a terrible place. I've read all about it."
"We're not planning to explore the island, Aunt Gertrude," Frank explained. "We're going to cruise around it and see if we can find any sign of the fellows."
"Cruise around it!" their aunt sniffed. "As if I don't know boys! You'll not be satisfied until you've tramped from one end of the island to the other. But go ahead. Go ahead. I wash my hands of the affair. If you want to commit suicide, it's your own lookout," and she swept from the room in great indignation.
Mrs. Hardy did not share her fears. She knew her sons well enough to realize that they would not run into needless dangers, and when she kissed them good-bye her only request was that they would not stay away any longer than was necessary.
The bay was calm when they started out, and theSleuthwas running, as Joe expressed it, "like a watch."
It was a beautiful summer afternoon and the cool breeze out on the water was in welcome relief to the sweltering heat of the city streets. Spray flicked into their faces as the motorboat raced along toward the eastern gap. When they passed out of Barmet Bay and reached the open sea Frank headed the boat down the coast in the direction of Blacksnake Island.
"It isn't far from the coast. There's a channel of a little over a mile," he said to his brother. "We won't be able to make it to-night, but we'll stop over at Rock Harbor and go on again in the morning. By that time, Tony and the others shouldn't be far behind."
Toward the end of the afternoon they were in sight of Rock Harbor, a small port, where they spied a schooner at anchor in the distance. Rock Harbor was not a shipping point of great importance, but there were always a number of miscellaneous craft in evidence.
To enter the harbor they were obliged to pass within a short distance of the schooner, swinging about beneath the bows of the vessel. As theSleuthplunged through the water, in the very shadow of the ship, Joe suddenly gave an exclamation of surprise.
"Frank! Look up on deck—quick!"
Frank glanced hurriedly upward. He was just in time to see the figure of a boy moving away from the rail, but there was something familiar about the young fellow that made him look incredulously at his brother.
"Chet!"
"I'm sure it's him," returned Joe hurriedly. "I didn't get a very good look at his face, because he only looked over the rail and then he drew back—but I'm almost positive it was Chet!"
"But what on earth can he be doing on that schooner?"
"Probably he's a prisoner. Let's give him a hail."
They shouted the name of their chum half a dozen times, but their only response was from a villainous looking sailor who glared over the side at them and bade them get away from the ship.
"No use causing trouble," said Frank, in a low voice. "We'll go now, but we'll come back later."
He steered the motorboat away from the vicinity of the schooner, but instead of going on into the harbor he put out to sea again.
"It won't be long until it gets darker. Then we'll go back. If Chet is on that ship we'll get word to him somehow."
"Well, if it isn't Chet Morton it's his double," declared Joe. "Even if I didn't get a very good look at him, I know he was just about the same height and build and the same general appearance. What puzzles me is why he didn't call out to us. And why did he draw back from the rail in such a hurry?"
"He mightn't have had time to call to us. Perhaps he managed to escape just for a minute or so and they dragged him back before he could give a shout."
"There's something in that. And of course he mightn't have recognized us."
"He would have recognized the boat, I'm sure."
"There's something queer about it. If we come back later on we may be able to see him again. Did you notice the name of the schooner?"
"Yes," answered Frank. "I watched for it. ThePersis. I think what we'd better do is this: We'll go back down the coast and loaf around until it gets darker. Then we'll come back to the harbor and try to come up to the schooner quietly. If there's a rope ladder handy I'll go up over the side and see what I can find out."
"It looks like our only chance. You'll have to go easy. If Chet and Biff are held prisoners on that ship they'll be well guarded. You might be captured yourself."
"That's where you will come in. If you hear sounds of a struggle or if I don't come back, go right into the harbor and notify the police so they can have the schooner searched."
Joe nodded. "All right. I'll keep watch."
Frank steered the motorboat back along the coast again and for the next hour or more they cruised about, waiting for twilight. At length sunset came and gradually the shadows fell. Lights began to twinkle in the town. Lights glowed from the mysterious schooner, now but a rakish shadow at the entrance to the harbor. When the lads judged that it was sufficiently dark to cover their approach, they returned, then crept quietly up on the ship.
They drew up close to the schooner's stern without being noticed and to Frank's relief he saw that a rope was dangling over the side. From the boat he reached out and seized it. The rope held fast; it supported his weight.
There were vague sounds from the deck above. The shuffling of feet. A burst of laughter from forward. Most of the men, he judged, would be in port, but it behooved him to move with caution.
"All set," he whispered to Joe.
"Right."
Frank swung himself away from the motorboat and began to climb slowly to the deck. Water lapped against the schooner's hull. The night was very quiet. Complete darkness had fallen by now. In a few moments Joe could only distinguish his brother as an obscure shadow as he clambered slowly upward.
Anxiously, Joe Hardy watched. He saw his brother climb higher and higher until at last his head and shoulders were silhouetted above the side of the ship.
Then Frank scrambled quietly over onto the deck. He had removed his shoes so as to proceed with a minimum of sound, so that once he had disappeared over the side Joe could hear nothing. He crouched in the boat, waiting.
Finally he heard a low whistle from the deck above. He looked up. He could see Frank leaning over the side. His brother's face was only a grey blur. He motioned with his arm, indicating that Joe was to follow him.
The motorboat had been tied fast so, although Joe was somewhat puzzled, he was nothing loath to share the adventure. Seizing the rope, he swung himself free of the motorboat, then began to climb nimbly toward the deck.
The rope cut into his hands and the climb taxed his strength, but in a few minutes he was near the top. Frank had moved back from the side into the darkness again.
He scrambled over the side and dropped lightly onto the deck. Frank was crouched in the shadows waiting for him.
And at that moment a heavy hand fell on his shoulder and a gruff voice said in his ear:
"All right, young fellow. Now we've got you both!"
The Island
Joe Hardy started violently. Then, realizing that he had been trapped, he dropped flat on the deck, wriggling to one side, wresting himself free of the clutching hand. He heard the man who had seized him give an angry grunt, then he saw the man lunging at him from the shadows. He dodged the outstretched arm and rolled over and over on the deck.
"Grab him, Mike!" roared another voice from near by, and then Joe was dimly aware that another struggle had started near the rail. He leaped to his feet and raced along the deck, the sailor in pursuit.
"Over the side, Joe!" shouted a voice that he recognized as being that of his brother.
He fled, hearing the pounding of feet on the deck close behind him. A dark figure stepped out of the shadows immediately ahead.
"Collar him!" roared the man at his back. The dark figure advanced with outstretched arms. Joe stepped neatly aside, dodged as the man swooped at him and blundered to the left. The two men collided violently, and by the time they had disengaged themselves Joe was a good five yards away.
The schooner was in an uproar.
A revolver roared from the shadows and the darkness was cleft by a crimson splash.
"Harbor thieves!" yelled a voice from behind. "Catch 'em!"
Footsteps pounded on the deck. Shouts and muttered imprecations rang out. A light flared from somewhere ahead. Out of the shadows rose a man who lunged fiercely at Joe, grappled with him, and they fell to the deck together. Joe managed to wrench himself free and rolled to one side, scrambling to his feet.
He heard a splash near by and a shout. "Over the side!" he could hear Frank calling again. His brother's voice was far below and he knew that Frank must have dived from the rail.
He was not far from the side of the schooner, and he raced for the rail just as half a dozen figures came plunging out of the gloom, their heavy boots thudding tremendously on the deck. Again the revolver crashed out and again the tongue of crimson flame licked its way through the blackness. The bullet passed within a few inches of Joe's head, and he ducked instinctively.
He reached the rail. Desperately, he scrambled up. But just as he poised for the dive a great hand closed about his ankle and some one seized the back of his coat. He felt himself dragged back, but with his free foot he kicked out. The grasp of his pursuer relaxed and Joe heard him grunt from the impact. The man staggered back.
The moment he was free, Joe went over the side.
He struck the cold water of the bay with a splash and went far down into the depths. Then he found himself rising again and at last he bobbed up over the surface.
He did not know where the motorboat was, but he swam ahead, at the same time keeping a wary eye above. He could see dark figures silhouetted above the side of the vessel and he could hear voices.
"He's down there!" declared a gruff voice.
"I almost had him!" shouted another. "I grabbed him just as he was going over, but he kicked me in the jaw."
"How many were there?" asked another sailor.
"Two," declared the gruff voice. "Harbor thieves—both of 'em. Come sneakin' aboard, one at a time. I caught one of 'em peepin' down into the galley where the cabin boy was peelin' potatoes and I followed him till he went back to the side, so I figured he had the rest of his pals down below. I grabbed him and clapped my hand over his mouth and made him wave for 'em to come up. But there was only one come up and Bill here grabbed him, but he got away."
"Both of 'em get away?"
"Yeah! I hope they drown."
Then a thrill of fear ran through Joe as he heard one of the men say:
"Keep quiet! Listen! Don't you hear some one swimming down there?"
The voices died down. Joe could see the figures leaning over the side as the sailors intently peered down into the darkness. He ceased swimming to tread water quietly.
"Take a shot at him!" advised some one.
Joe let himself sink beneath the surface and hardly had he gone beneath the waves than he heard the muffled report of a revolver and a splash near by. He swam beneath the water until his lungs were almost bursting. Then, when he could stand it no longer, he came to the surface again. He was deep in the shadow of the ship and he had left the sailors behind, still watching the place where he had gone down.
"I don't believe there was any one there," muttered one of the men in a disappointed tone.
"No, I guess they both got away," agreed another. "We scared 'em off, anyway."
"Did they steal anything?"
"No. They didn't have time. I nailed the first one before he'd been on the ship long. I guess he just went on ahead to see if everything was clear."
"Aw, I'm goin' to bed. As long as we scared 'm off—"
The voices died away.
Relieved, Joe swam on. In a few minutes he caught sight of a dark shape ahead. It was the motorboat.
Silently, he swam toward it until he had reached the side. A voice whispered:
"Is that you, Joe?"
"Yes."
Frank had already gained the boat. He now leaned over the side and grasped Joe's hand, helping his brother on board. Dripping wet, they both crouched in the boat.
"Lucky they didn't see theSleuthtied down here," whispered Frank. "I've been waiting here for you. I thought sure they had you."
"It was a close call. They mistook us for harbor thieves, eh?"
"Yes."
"Did you see Chet?"
"It wasn't Chet after all."
"No?"
"It was the cabin boy. I peeped into the galley and there he was, peeling potatoes. But it was another fellow altogether. He looked like Chet. So I started back and I had just reached the side when a sailor grabbed me. He kept his hand over my mouth so I couldn't call out. Then he grabbed my arm and made me wave over the side."
"I thought you were motioning for me to come on up."
"It was a bad mess. Oh, well, we're out of it, if we can only get away from here quick enough. I think we'd better wait for a while until the excitement dies down."
The boys waited in the darkness. Gradually the schooner became silent once more. The sailors had evidently returned to the fore-castle. At length Frank judged that they could escape without trouble.
Fortunately, the engine of the motorboat responded immediately, and although the noise of their departure was sufficient to arouse the ship, theSleuthshot away into the gloom so swiftly that their escape was assured. When they were several hundred yards away they looked back and they could see the lights of lanterns moving about near the stern, but they knew that the sailors would not put out after them. Even if they had, the motorboat would not be overtaken.
They circled about in the bay for some time and eventually put back into the harbor for the night. At first they were afraid that the men on the schooner might have given word to the harbor police to be on the lookout for them but, as Frank said, their consciences were clear and they had no doubt of their ability to explain the situation satisfactorily.
However, they were not intercepted and, in Rock Harbor, they tied the motorboat up for the night, going to a near-by hotel, where a sleepy night clerk assigned them to a room.
Early next morning they were away again.
"Blacksnake Island isn't far away now," said Frank. "We should be there in a few hours at the most."
There was no sign of the other boys, but Frank and Joe decided that they would not wait, as the others would overtake them at the island or would meet them on their return. They had replenished their boat with oil and gasoline, they had again inspected their supply of provisions and were in every way in readiness for the last lap of their search.
It was mid-morning before they came within sight of Blacksnake Island. It lay not far from the coast, a low, lean, sinister stretch of swampy land, terminating in rocky bluffs on the seaward side. There was a dank, heavy growth of vegetation and the island seemed to steam in the summer heat.
"Ugly looking place, isn't it?" remarked Frank, as the motorboat sped on its way.
The craft drew closer to the island. There was no sign of life. As they came nearer the boys could distinguish the fetid swamp land facing the coast, the still, silent trees that seemed to droop beneath the scorching sun and they felt a qualm of repulsion. Blacksnake Island was not an inviting place. It lived up to its name. It was a fit abode for serpents—not for human beings.
When they were within half a mile of the island, they heard a vague but familiar sound.
"Motorboat!" exclaimed Frank.
They listened. They could hear the sound of a motorboat, apparently approaching from the far side of the island. Frank spun the wheel.
"We'll head down the channel. No use letting them think we're bound for the island," he said. "It's not likely to have anything to do with our search, but it's best to play safe."
TheSleuthchanged its course, so that Blacksnake Island was now to one side, and the motorboat appeared to be heading on down the coast. The Hardy boys scanned the dark bank of land intently.
The other boat appeared in view at last. It emerged slowly around the lower point, poking its nose inquisitively out into the channel as though to assure itself that the way was clear. Then it picked up speed and came surging out toward the mainland. At that distance, Frank and Joe could not readily distinguish the features of the men in the craft, but they saw that there were two of them. Frank's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the boat.
"Seems to me I've seen it before," he remarked, picking up the binoculars. He raised them to his eyes and gazed long and earnestly at the speeding craft. Finally he handed the glasses to Joe. "What do you think?" he asked.
"Why, of course we've seen it before!" Joe exclaimed, after a brief inspection. "We saw that boat in Barmet Bay!"
Frank nodded.
"It's the same motorboat that chased us the afternoon of the storm!"
Into the Cave
Frank Hardy bent over the wheel.
"I'm going closer," he said. "We'll make absolutely sure of this."
He altered the course of the boat so that it would intercept the other craft, at the speed they were going. Then he turned up his coat collar and drew his cap lower over his eyes.
"If it's the same boat and if the same men are in it, we should be safe enough as long as they don't recognize us. They saw us that day, but they've never seen theSleuth. We'll get as close to them as we can."
But the other craft had increased its speed. It was a powerful boat and a high curl of foam now rose from its bows as it plunged through the waves in a rapid flight toward the mainland in the distance. The roar of the engine was borne to the boys' ears on the breeze.
"We're going to lose them," muttered Frank. "They're too far ahead of us, unless we want to cut in and meet them right near the land."
"That will only make them suspicious."
"Yes, I guess we'd better let them go."
Still, he did not give up the attempt just then, opening the throttle so that theSleuthwas racing along at top speed. But the other boat had the advantage, and cut across their course with a quarter of a mile to spare. Joe gazed through the binoculars, striving to identify the two men.
"No use," he remarked, at last. "The fellow at the wheel is turned away from us, and the other man is bending down in the boat so I can't see his face."
"Is it the same boat?"
"I can't be positive. But I think so. It certainly looks very much like it."
"I'm almost sure. Of course, there might be lots of other motorboats just like it—but I've got a hunch that it's the same craft."
"What would it be doing at Blacksnake Island? There's no doubt that it came from there."
"That's for us to find out. We'll let them go on to the mainland. Then we'll circle back and go up the other side of the island."
In a short time the other craft disappeared from view, entering a small cove some distance down the coast, and Frank turned their boat about and headed toward Blacksnake Island again. They approached it from the seaward side and drew in as close to the island as they dared. The rocky bluffs were lonely and forbidding, seeming to offer no available landing place.
"We'll go right around it. If Chet and Biff are there we should be able to see their boat or a fire or some sign of them," said Frank, half questioningly, to his brother.
"After seeing that other motorboat, I'm pretty sure we won't see any sign of them at all. I'm pretty well satisfied that those men kidnapped them and brought them here. And if they did, you may be sure they'll be well hidden."
"We'll circle the island anyway, and if we don't see anything we'll land and make a search of the place."
But making a circuit of the island took longer than the boys expected. Blacksnake Island was bigger than it had first appeared. It was almost a mile in length, and correspondingly wide—a great, swampy tract of forbidding marsh at one end, rising to higher ground and desolate rocks at the other. On the swampy side there were sinister little creeks, dead bushes half inundated, logs floating about in the black water. Frank and Joe caught glimpses of triangular black heads forging slowly through the water here and there.
"The blacksnakes!" Frank exclaimed.
Once the motorboat passed within a few yards of one of these black reptiles. Fascinated, the boys watched the ugly black head that projected above the surface, and they could see the long, sinuous body writhing beneath the water as the snake swam toward the fetid marsh.
"There must be hundreds of them on that island."
"They're dangerous, too. I've read about them. A bite from one of them means your finish."
There were fewer snakes on the rocky side of the island and, after they had made the circuit without seeing any sign of human life, the boys decided to make a landing.
"Seeing that motorboat leaving here makes me believe some one is around," declared Frank. "I won't be satisfied until I find out for sure."
"We won't stay here all night?"
"It all depends. If we're satisfied that the island is deserted, we'll leave; but if we think we haven't searched thoroughly enough, we'll stay and hunt around again to-morrow. It'll take a few hours to give the place a thorough going-over."
"How about the snakes? Won't it be dangerous staying here all night?"
"Oh, we'll find some place where they can't get at us. If the worst comes to the worst we can anchor the boat and stay in it."
This decided, after some search they discovered a small cove, well protected from the sea, that appeared to offer a good landing place. The cove had a narrow entrance between the rocks, but widened out into a small lagoon, with water deep enough to enable the boys to bring their boat up close to a wide shelf of rock. They anchored theSleuththen clambered up onto the rock.
"Feels good to stand on solid footing again," Joe commented.
"I'll say it does. Well, let's be starting. Which way shall we go? Is it to be north or south?"
"It doesn't matter much. To start with, we'll nose around among these rocks for a while."
The sun blazed on the bare crags as the boys picked their way over the rocks and boulders. Away in the interior they could see the waving tops of trees in the steaming marsh, but for the time being they contented themselves with exploring the rocky end of the island. It was quite barren and it appeared that no human being had ever set foot upon the place.
"You can't blame them, either," said Frank, when Joe had remarked on this fact. "It's certainly not a place where I'd care to build my happy home."
After about an hour of desultory search they came upon something that proved conclusively that human beings had indeed been there before them—and not long previously, at that. Charred embers and a crude fireplace built of rocks in a little hollow told the boys that someone had preceded them.
"We're on the track of something," declared Frank, as he examined the remains of the fire. "This blaze was built here not long ago. Some one has camped here." He circled the rock, which dipped toward a patch of undergrowth and luxuriant grass. "And here's a trail!" he exclaimed.
It was merely a faint depression in the deep grass, but it proved that more than one person had passed that way before. The trail wound along through the verdure, away from the shore, leading toward the interior of the island.
"Well, if some one else has gone this way, we can follow the path, too," Joe remarked. "Got your gun?"
"Yes." Frank patted his hip. Both boys had provided themselves with revolvers before leaving home. They were not adept with fire-arms, but the nature of their mission had prompted them to come prepared for any emergency. Fenton Hardy had a collection of weapons in his study, all trophies of his various cases, and the Hardy boys had each taken a small and efficient-looking automatic pistol for protection.
They struck out along the faint trail, the grass rustling about their feet. The green thicket loomed ominously before them and the heat became more intense.
Frank was striding along in advance, gazing at the thicket ahead, when he suddenly came aware of a disturbance in the grass almost at his feet. Some sixth sense warned him of danger. That strange tickling of the spine, man's instinctive reaction to the presence of a hidden peril, made him look down.
Immediately in front of him lay a huge blacksnake!
The reptile was easily five feet in length, and as the boy leaped back he could hear a prolonged hissing. The snake writhed and twisted, and its head came into view from amid the grass, the red tongue flickering wickedly.
Frank saw that the snake was coming directly at him. He leaped to one side, at the same time snatching his automatic from his hip pocket. He had not time to aim, but he pressed the trigger and pumped two shots in the direction of the reptile.
The snake stopped dead, then swiftly began to coil itself up in readiness to strike.
Not a word had been spoken. Frank had blundered back against Joe, who was unaware of the cause of his brother's sudden alarm. He quickly grasped the situation, however, and looked about him.
Close at hand, almost hidden by the grass, was a heavy stick. He bent and quickly snatched it up.
"Quick!" said Frank, taking it from him.
He brandished the stick and brought it down with terrific force upon the snake. The first blow did not kill the reptile, although it rendered it helpless. The hissing continued, the scarlet tongue flickered like flame. Then the boy brought the stick down again. It crushed in the evil black head. A few spasmodic wriggles, and the snake lay still.