Danger on Vampire Trail (14 page)

“You're the ones who'll run away,” Farkus barked.

“Nobody's going to run away,” the ranger said. “You all are coming with me to Snowcap.”

Mungo and Farkus seemed willing enough. Farkus was to drive their car. The ranger told Mungo to get into the forest service car. Biff set his bike beside the camper and joined Frank, Joe, and Chet in the convertible.

Chet fumed at the thought of how the pair had duped the officer. “What liars! It's a wonder they didn't say they were Smokey the Bear and his brother!”

As they entered the town, Frank exclaimed, “Hey, we're in luck! There's a State Police car!”

The ranger pulled up behind it, stepped out, and spoke to the trooper. The Hardys joined him and told their side of the story.

“Those men are mixed up with a ring of credit-card counterfeiters,” Frank said. “And we can prove it!”

“You mean you know someone who can identify them as swindlers?” the trooper asked.

“Yes.” Frank told about Burn, the jeweler who had been bilked. The State Police officer agreed to take Farkus and Mungo to the store.

The suspects were silent as the group walked toward Burn's shop. While Biff, Chet, and the ranger waited outside, Frank and Joe accompanied the officer into the store with Farkus and Mungo. Burn looked up in surprise from a gem he was examining. A young woman assistant disappeared into the back of the store.

The trooper said, “I understand, Mr. Burn, you accepted a fake Magnacard recently.”

“That's right.”

“Did either of these men present it to you?”

Farkus and Mungo stood before the counter, looking tense.

The jeweler studied them carefully. Then he said, “No. I've never seen these men before!”

 

 

 

 

DISMAYED by the reply, the Hardys faced the eler. “But—but you told us about John Minks and—” Joe began.

“I told you nothing!” Burn's mouth turned down and a look of defiance came into his slitted eyes. “Now why don't you go away and stop bothering me!”

The police officer put a hand on the boy's shoulder. ‘As you can see, it's a case of mistaken identity. We all make a boo-boo now and then.”

“But I tell you,” Joe persisted, “it's not a mistake!”

Frank nudged his brother. “We can't get anywhere without Burn's help. Protesting won't do any good. Let's go!”

“And let these guys go scot-free?” Joe demanded.

“Listen to your brother,” the officer advised. “You haven't got a case here.”

Joe realized that the officer was right. Without proof, there was no way to take the criminals into custody.

Frank and Joe joined their friends outside. Chet and Biff were amazed to see Mungo and Farkus walk out and amble down the street.

“What happened?” Biff asked. “You had those crooks dead to rights!”

“The jeweler copped out on us,” Frank said. “There's something real fishy behind all this, and we're going to find out what it is.”

Biff said, “Of course it's possible that Farkus was not the man who used the Minks Magnacard.”

“Theoretically, yes,” Frank replied. “But I've watched the jeweler and he acted funny. I'm sure it was Farkus.” He asked Chet and Biff to follow the two men.

“Joe and I will keep an eye on the jewelry shop,” he said. “I think Burn will react fairly soon. We'll meet you later at the campsite.”

Biff and Chet hastened to the Hardys' convertible and drove slowly after the suspects. The men hopped into their own car, accelerated quickly, and headed in the direction of Denver.

“Come on, Biff. Can't you get this heap to go any faster?” Chet complained.

Biff had the pedal down to the floor as they ascended the steep mountain road. It curved sharply and the suspects' car disappeared from sight.

Rounding the curve, the boys saw a road repair-man waving a red flag. Biff hit the brakes. Up ahead a power roller was repairing one side of the highway and traffic was alternating, a dozen cars at a time in each direction.

Biff and Chet chafed at the delay. Vehicles came from the opposite side in single file. A large trailer was proceeding extra-cautiously.

“Why doesn't he step on it?” Biff fumed.

Finally the last car had passed and the boys were given the go signal. Biff eased slowly past the roller. Once in the clear, he tromped on the gas. But no matter how fast he went, they could not get a glimpse of the other car.

Chet observed. “They must be miles ahead of us by now. We'll never catch 'em, Biff.”

“You're right. We might as well go back.”

Meanwhile, Frank and Joe were carefully concealed in a doorway, watching the jewelry store in Snowcap.

Finally their vigil was rewarded. The jeweler stepped out and looked up and down the street. Then he set off at a rapid gait and crossed the road. The boys followed.

“He's really got something on his mind!” Frank thought.

Turning a corner, the man headed toward the second house on the left. After opening the front door with a key he disappeared inside.

Joe and Frank crept around to the back yard. The young sleuths worked their way to the rear porch. Through an open window they heard a chair scuff against the floor as Burn sat down.

Then came the dialing of the telephone. After a few seconds, Burn said, “Pick? ... Listen. Those big-money fakers are still around, but I couldn't get my hands on them!”

There was silence for a few seconds.

Then the jeweler continued, “I could have grabbed two of them, but the fuzz interfered. I think they skipped town.”

Again only silence, then an exclamation, “What? ... You've got them? ... Up the trail tonight? ... But those Hardys are still poking around ... Where? ... The Vampire Cave? ... Okay.”

The phone clicked in its cradle. Moments later the front door slammed.

Peering around the side of the house, the Hardys saw Burn striding up the street. Apparently he was returning to his shop.

“What did you make of all that?” Joe asked excitedly.

“Maybe the credit-card thieves were caught!”

“By Pick's gang?”

“I'm beginning to think so.”

The boys pondered the new turn of events. Were two gangs battling each other?

“This mystery is turning out in reverse!” said Joe. “The other gang—the guys who are after the Magnacard crooks—must be up on Vampire Trail!”

“And tonight's the showdown!” said Frank.

“The moment of truth is at hand.” Joe grinned.

As the Hardys walked back to the main street, trying to get a lift to their campsite, Chet and Biff rode by and stopped. They were chagrined by their failure to keep on the trail of the Magnacard fakers. But when Frank and Joe told them the result of the stakeout, they regained their optimism.

“Boy, that'll be a great show!” Biff said.

“Maybe they'll knock each other off,” Chet chortled. “Then we won't have so much work to do.”

They decided to return to their trailer tent and lay a plan of action. As they neared Blackfoot Meadow campground, Chet said, “Let's visit Prince Cuthbert and see if he's had any news from the police about those sapphire thieves.”

The boys were surprised to find that Cuthbert's psychedelic trailer was not in its place. They got out of the car and queried the neighbors.

“Oh, the prince?” said one. “He left.”

“Did he say where he was going?” Frank asked.

“No. He just hitched up the trailer to his old jalopy and chugged off.”

“He seemed mighty disturbed, that's all I can say,” someone else added.

“Gosh,” Chet said, “he didn't even say good-by to us.”

“You kind of liked that old eccentric, didn't you?” Biff asked.

“He wasn't so bad.”

Joe, however, still felt that Cuthbert was suspect. “I don't think we've seen the last of him,” he stated as they returned to their car.

After an early supper the boys formulated plans for their hike up Vampire Trail. Sherlock would be tied to the camper with enough food and water to last at least twenty-four hours.

“Silence is essential,” Frank declared. “We don't know how many of those crooks might be lurking along the trail. Use your flashlight sparingly, and if it's necessary to say anything, whisper it.”

As soon as darkness fell, Frank and Joe took one side of the path, Chet and Biff the other. The stony, tortuous trail tested both their strength and agility. Clouds obscured the moon and the resulting jet-black darkness made the climb even more difficult. They pressed ahead, giving a winking signal now and then to mark their positions.

About halfway to the top of the mountain they halted and had a whispered conference.

“Let's lie in wait for a while,” Joe suggested. “If anyone comes up the trail tonight, he'll have to go right past here and we can grab him.”

Frank interposed, “Only let's not grab anybody. The idea is to follow him to his gang's headquarters.”

They returned to their positions and waited. Suddenly Chet gave a cry of alarm. Almost at the same instant something fluttered close to the Hardys' heads.

“For Pete's sake!” Joe hissed. “Keep quiet!” He and Frank hastened to Chet's side.

“The bats!” Chet moaned. “One of them almost brushed against my ear. Sorry, fellows.”

“Sh,”
Frank warned. “I hear something.”

Far down the path came the sound of footsteps, then a mélange of angry voices.

“You shut up,” one said harshly.

“I'll take this case to the Supreme Court!”

“That's Farkus,” Joe said.

Another voice, which the Hardys identified as Burn's the jeweler, sneered, “Supreme Court? You'll see your supreme creator first!”

“You can't do this to us. It's illegal!” It was Mungo speaking.

“Look who's talking about legality,” someone said with a laugh.

The boys crouched low alongside the trail as the men passed them. Frank could have reached out and touched one who said in a whining tone, “We'll give you anything. Anything you want, but let us go!”

“Lasher, you've had it. The end of the trail will be the end of your crooked career.”

The voices trailed off. When they became inaudible, the boys whispered again.

“Just as we thought,” Frank said. “It's gang against gang. The guys who hold Vampire Trail have caught the Magnacard crooks!”

They walked up the center of the trail with Joe as lead man. When they came to a steep defile, they stopped for a moment and listened. The mountain was ominously still.

“Okay,” Joe said. “The road's clear.”

They pressed on single file through the narrow passage which opened onto ground less steep.

“We must be right near the top,” Frank said.

Again they heard voices. Crawling on their stomachs, the boys made their way to the edge of a small amphitheater which nature had cut into the mountaintop.

“A great hiding place!” Joe whispered.

“Right,” Frank said. “Completely hidden from below.”

They crept closer for a better look. In the middle of the amphitheater a small fire was burning. A knot of men were gathered around it. Pick was doing the talking. His voice came through deep and booming.

“Nobody's going to cheat us and get away with it! You swindled Burn!”

“But we'll give you anything,” Lasher pleaded. “All the dough we made in the credit-card racket. I've got it hidden. It's all yours. Just let us go!”

“You had your chance to pay when you bought the sapphire,” Pick said. “Now you're going to pay—in a different way!”

The Hardys strained their eyes trying to identify the others standing in the flickering firelight. They could make out the terrified faces of Mungo and Farkus, whose jowls were quivering with fear.

Suddenly one of Pick's henchmen whispered something to him and he stopped censuring his captives. With a gesture toward the inky black night he said in a voice dripping with mock kindness:

You kids can come out of hiding now. All of you are my prisoners!”

 

 

 

 

PICK'S words hit the boys like a bucket of ice water! Was this a bluff meant to dislodge then from their hiding place? How had they been discovered on their trek up Vampire Trail? They crouched, every muscle tense.

There was a rustling in the bushes behind them. Frank, Chet, and Biff spun around to look. But Joe, falling flat to the ground, slithered off in an effort to escape.

Just then a powerful beam of light flashed into the eyes of the trio. Two men carrying rifles appeared. “Okay, you guys. On your feet. Reach for the stars!”

There was nothing to do but obey.

It was only when they stood up that Frank became aware of Joe's absence. “Good boy,” he thought. Joe's escape was the only hope for rescue!

The three were escorted to the fire, gun muzzles prodding them in the back. As they approached, they got a better look at Pick.

His high forehead was crowned by disheveled blond hair. His eyes looked green in the flickering firelight, which threw sinister shadows on his pocked face. His stubbly chin was thrust out defiantly.