“Didn't the lawyers know about him?” Joe wanted to know.
“Philip York claims his father knew nothing about the deal. If that's true, then the sale of the property was illegal and the transaction has to be made all over again.”
“Whew!” Joe whistled. “And you'd have to pay anything extra they might ask?”
“Yes,” the chief said, frowning. “York claims he has half brothers and sisters to be paid in addition. They could insist we give them a small fortune to sign off. And we just haven't got the money.”
There was silence for a few moments, then Chief Whitestone continued. “The second thing I'm worried about is a little closer to home.”
“What is it?” Frank asked anxiously.
“Someone has been digging around the spot where we were looking for the buried treasure!”
“When did you discover it?” Joe questioned.
“I found bootmarks and freshly turned earth this morning, which means someone must have been there last night.”
The boys gasped. “I wonder if the digger found anything!” Ted exclaimed.
Chief Whitestone tapped his pipe on the table, then replied, “It's hard to tell, Ted. Whoever it was dug quite deep, though.”
“Father, we must find out whether he was successful!”
“But how?” Chief Whitestone asked.
Almost immediately Frank came up with a plan. “We'll fool him and use a decoy.”
“What kind?” Ted asked.
“The best decoy in the world,” he told them. “The whole Ramapan tribe! They can put on their hunter's moon ceremonial dance this evening instead of waiting.”
“I see,” said Joe. “If the digger didn't find the treasure, he'll be back.”
“Exactly. While everyone is watching the dance, he'll count on being alone. But you and I, Joe, will keep watch by the teepee.”
“Great idea, Frank,” Chief Whitestone responded, slapping the youth on the back. “I'll get the preparations for the ceremonial dance started right away.”
“Say,” Chet remarked eagerly, “that's really a corker of a plan after all, Frank!”
The Hardys became restless as they waited, but finally darkness fell and the brilliant hunter's moon rose like a flaming ball. Under its bright, glowing light the weird ceremony started.
First came the beat of the drums, beginning slowly, but growing more insistent. Then the dancers, dressed in war paint and feathers, started their elaborate rhythmical movements. They chanted, leaped, and twisted, as they circled the soaring flames of the great bonfire.
The dance soon got into full swing, with Indian faces reflecting the blaze of the fire and the drums pounding wildly. Although the boys found the strange ritual fascinating, Frank finally whispered to his brother:
“We'd better go. We have work to do.”
Walking stealthily they went straight to the place of the crisscross shadow. No one was around. They slipped inside the teepee and waited.
Presently Joe peeked out of the opening. For a moment all he could see was the frozen ground and the dark forest trees, still in the silver moonlight. Then he gave a sudden start.
“Someone's coming!” he reported excitedly. “Let's grab him!”
As the man came nearer, the boys rushed outside. At that moment something whizzed over their heads. A second later a large knife struck the side of the teepee.
Frank seized Joe by the shoulders and jerked him to the ground.
“That guy is trying to kill us!”
Terrified, the boys waited, their faces pressed into the cold earth. Then they heard the sound of running footsteps.
Joe stood up. “I guess the knife thrower's gone. Whew! That was a close shave! Well, at least we know the gang hasn't found the treasure yet!”
They walked back to the ceremonial dance, but found that the rite had been completed and the members of the tribe were returning home. The chief was talking soberly with a group of elderly men. Joe caught his eye and he came over in a few minutes.
Briefly, the boys recounted the experience with the knife thrower.
“I'll keep guards posted here day and night,” the chief said gravely.
He beckoned to a couple of sturdy young men. After a few short commands from their leader, they stationed themselves near the teepee.
“I can use a good night's sleep,” said Chet, coming up to them. He yawned.
The Hardys grinned. “All worn out from dancing” Joe teased. “You should have been dodging daggers as we were.”
“Wh-wh-what!” Hearing the story, Chet said, “Wow! We'd better cut out this night work.”
“We will,” Frank agreed. “I'm going to phone Sam Radley to find out if he's heard anything from Dad and then hit the hay.”
He picked up the phone, which had been repaired earlier.
“Mr. Sam Radley, please,” he said to the hospital operator. “What! He's disappeared! With a broken leg!”
Frank hung up and turned around. “Sam vanished from the hospital very mysteriously this morning. Left a check on the bureau for his bill. No one saw him leave.”
The boys looked at one another in amazement. Then Joe said, “Try his hotel. Maybe he's there.”
But Sam was not at the hotel and the clerk had not heard from him.
“Maybe he's gone after the saboteurs,” Chet suggested.
“More likely the gang has taken him captive,” Joe said worriedly.
The three sat lost in thought for several minutes, then Frank said, “I know somebody who might throw some light on his whereabouts.”
“Who?”
“Jack Wayne. Maybe Jack took Sam on a secret plane flight!”
“You're right. Let's phone him.”
Jack Wayne was a close friend of the Hardys. He owned a plane, and often piloted the boys, their father, or Sam on errands when speed and secrecy were needed to crack a case.
In a short time Frank was talking to Jack.
“W-e-l-l,” Jack began, as if reluctant to reply. “I have seen Sam. Flew him on a secret mission to Chicago this afternoon.”
“Did he give any details?” Frank wanted to know.
“He didn't volunteer much information, and he swore me to secrecy. All I can tell you is this: continue your investigations at the Ramapan village, and don't worry about a thing!”
Frank repeated the conversation to his brother and Chet.
“Continue our work, eh?” Joe said.
“But where?” Chet asked. “We've dug at the site of the crisscross shadow for the buried treasure, and all we have to show for it is a big pile of earth!”
“We've sure gone deep enough,” Joe declared. “You know what I think? That we haven't been digging at the right shadow!”
“You've hit the nail on the head.” Frank thumped the arm of his chair. “There's only one thing to do. Find the real crisscross shadow. We must do it tonight. If we wait until tomorrow, it may be cloudy. With the moon blotted out, we'll really be stuck.”
“Count me in!” Chet exclaimed. “I can always catch up on lost sleep later.”
Ted and Chief Whitestone helped the Hardys in their preparations. Ted wanted to go on the search, but his father forbade this because of his exhausted condition.
Finally, equipped with hooks, picks, shovels, rope, and flashlights, the boys started off for the clearing where the teepee stood. When they arrived, Frank surveyed the area in the moonlight.
“The crisscross shadow has to be around here somewhere,” he stated firmly. “If it wasn't made by teepee poles, then there must be another object which casts a shadow of the same type.”
Joe pointed to the sheer side of the mountain that rose out of the clearing.
“Let's climb up there and have a look,” he suggested. “We'll be able to see over a wider expanse from that height, and we may catch something we haven't noticed before.”
Picking their way carefully up the steep slope, they finally reached the top of the mountain. The boys paused to catch their breath as they surveyed the whole panorama.
Their eyes swept back and forth across the scenic view below them. Intently they took in every detail, seeking the sign of the buried treasure.
“Nothing here,” Frank said. “Let's look on the other side.”
They walked across the level summit which was barely a hundred feet wide. The far side dropped off in a sheer cliff. Across a narrow ravine rose another steep rocky slope.
Suddenly Joe clutched the other boys' arms.
“Look!” he cried, his voice rising in excitementment. “Down by that crevice in that cliff over there!”
CHAPTER XVII
A Parted Rope
“THE crisscross shadow!”
“We've found it at last!”
“Hurrah!”
The three boys stared at a perfect crossed shadow just above a cleft in the rock wall of the mountainside facing them. It was made by two overhanging slender pinnacles of rock.
“Wait a minute,” Frank said. “We've found the shadow, but it would be suicide to try climbing down to it.”
“One misstep and we'd be goners.” Chet shivered.
“We've got to get down there somehow!” Joe said with determination. “The future of the Ramapan tribe depends on the deed to their property! There's a narrow ledge just below us. If we could onlyâ”
“Let's try a rope,” Frank suggested, uncoiling one he was carrying over his shoulder.
He flung the end far out over the edge of the cliff. It wriggled down the stone face. The tossed coil apparently swung to the floor of the ledge, although from where they were standing the end of it was not visible.
“Quick! Tie the rope around a tree,” Frank called out. “I'll go down first.”
“Say, whose idea was this treasure hunt?” Chet objected. But as he gave a look downward, he added, “On the other hand, I'd hate to be selfish.”
The Hardys grinned as Joe securely tied one end of the rope to a large tree trunk. Frank tested it to be sure it would hold; then, clutching it firmly, he let himself over the edge of the cliff and hand over hand started his descent.
Reaching the place where he thought the ledge continued under a sharply jutting overhang, he was doomed to disappointment. Instead of a flat surface, there was a pinnacle upon which it would be impossible to land.
“It's no use,” he called up.
The climb back was more difficult. The rope creaked and Joe and Chet feared it might fray apart from the constant rubbing against the rocks and toss Frank into space. But he finally made it and was hauled up the last few feet.
“Chet,” Frank said, “how about your going back and telling Chief Whitestone what we've found out? He'll certainly want to throw a guard around this place until proper equipment can be brought to get down there. Meanwhile, Joe and I'll keep watch.”
Chet immediately crossed to the wooded side of the mountain and began to climb down. Hindered by his bulky figure and heavy clothes, he slipped and slid, making a great deal of noise.
Rising, Chet started the trek through the woods. Suddenly he halted. He had heard a sound in the brush. The palms of his hands turned clammy as he listened intently. But he did not hear the rustling again.
Shrugging his shoulders, though his heart was hammering, Chet walked on, trying to tread as noiselessly as possible. In a moment he heard the sound once more. This time it was directly behind him!
As he swung around he was grasped roughly and thrown to the ground. A hand was clapped over his mouth. He struggled violently, but in vain.
His masked captors bound and gagged him, then carried him to a large tree.
“Okay,” one of the attackers said gruffly. “You know what to do with this pest!”
“Yeah, but he weighs a ton,” another protested as Chet was hoisted up to the first limb.
In a few minutes he was tied to the upper part of the tree trunk, out of sight of the ground.
“Next we'll take care of those meddling Hardy boys!” the leader declared.
When Chet heard the ominous words, he was terror-stricken. As the men moved off, he struggled to free himself, but he could not budge an inch. His heart sank as he realized that he was powerless to warn his friends.
In the meantime, Frank and Joe found a spot some fifty feet farther along the mountain where they thought they could get down to the ledge.
“Let's try it!” Joe urged. “Maybe we can hop across from there to the side where the shadow is.”
They tied the rope around a tree.
“My turn this time,” Joe declared.
He went down carefully, landed on the narrow ledge, and calculated the distance to the other side.
“Okay, I'll start down,” Frank called.
When he was within eight feet of the ledge, he felt the rope quiver. He looked up. His blood froze.
High above him, silhouetted against the moonlit sky, a masked face peered down at him. Alongside it was a hand holding a knife.
“Frank!” Joe cried in horror. “Somebody's going to cut you off!”
Frank reached out desperately to save himself, but it was too late. With a single swipe of the knife, the strands were severed.
Frank went tumbling through the air!
With superhuman effort Joe braced himself and caught Frank as he came hurtling down the cliffside.
But for several moments it was nip and tuck between life and death as they swayed and teetered near the rim of the ledge. Then Frank was able to regain his own balance.
Near exhaustion, Frank and Joe sat down, oblivious even of the taunts being called down by the man at the top of the cliff. But finally his raucous voice broke in on their thoughts.