“Is that so? Just watch!” Chet boasted.
Before anyone could advise caution, the chunky lad climbed up on the gunwale. He teetered precariously, arms outstretched. The next moment Chet gave a wild yell and toppled overboard. Feet first, he hit the water with a mighty splash and disappeared beneath the surface. His friends held their sides and quaked with merriment.
“For Pete's sake!” Joe said. “I didn't think he'd really try that stunt.”
Chet bobbed to the surface. Sputtering, he pulled himself up, grabbed the
Hai Hau'
s bowline, then to his comrades' complete astonishment, swam rapidly to shore. Dashing up onto the beach, Chet hitched the line around a gnarled old tree stump.
“Okay, this'll show you guys!” he shouted. “If you want to get back to Bayport, you'll either have to untie this end of the rope or leave it behind.”
“That rope's valuable,” Frank commented, and added, grinning, “Looks as if the joke's on us!”
Joe started to doff his T shirt and slacks in order to swim ashore. Just then a car's headlight beams swept off the road and blazed between the trees. It was a jeep which plunged across the sandy beach. A moment later it ground to a halt and four masked men leaped out!
“Hey, what's going on?” Tony exclaimed, utterly astounded.
The crew of the
Hai Hau
stared dumfounded for a moment as the men raced toward Chet.
“They must be after the junk!” Frank gasped. “If they're armedâgood night! Chet!” he shouted. “Run!”
The stout boy did not run away, but he suddenly spun into action and untied the bowline.
“Don't wait for me!” he yelled, and hurled the line out into the water.
As the four assailants closed in on Chet, Joe declared he was going to jump overboard and help Chet.
Biff deterred him. “Those men are after the boat. If they don't get it, they'll let Chet go.”
Although the Hardys were skeptical, they listened to their friend's advice. Frank immediately began issuing orders.
“We'll leave, then sneak back and pick up Chet.”
While the other boys hauled in the anchor and the dripping bowline, he ran aft and gunned the outboard into life. Two of the masked men plunged into the water and swam swiftly toward the junk. But the Hai Hau was already backing speedily out of the cove, beyond their reach. An unintelligible snarl echoed across the water, and the two swimmers returned to shore.
“Put out the lanterns!” Frank directed Tony.
Once clear of the cove, he rounded a spit of land, cut the motor gradually, and let the junk drift through the darkness toward a concealing clump of trees and shrubbery.
“Now what?” Jim Foy asked in a whisper.
“You stay aboard and guard the junk!” said Frank, grabbing a waterproof flashlight. “The rest of us will go over the side and rescue Chet!”
Swiftly but silently the Hardys, Biff, and Tony lowered themselves into the water. A few quick strokes brought them to shore. Then they plunged through the trees like darting shadows, hoping to circle around and take the masked assailants from the rear, if they were still there.
As the boys emerged in sight of the beach, they saw the four men dragging Chet, still kicking and squirming, toward their car.
“They're kidnaping him to hold as a hostage!” Joe exclaimed.
“Make plenty of noise,” Frank whispered to his companions. Out loud he shouted,
“Take 'em, gang!”
Yelling like Indians on the warpath, the boys burst from cover. Chet's captors whirled around. The stout lad seized his chance, pulled himself free, and unleashed a flurry of blows.
A second later Frank, Joe, Biff, and Tony waded in, fists swinging! A brief but wild melee followed. Confused and taken off guard, the masked men turned and fled toward the jeep.
Biff made a flying tackle and grabbed one by the ankle, but the fellow kicked himself free and went tearing after his companions.
“Stop 'em!” Joe yelled as the jeep's engine roared.
At that moment a vivid bolt of lightning arced across the cove. Simultaneously a deafening crack split the air. The boys halted in their chase as a single thought struck their mind.
Had the
Hai Hau
been struck by lightning?
CHAPTER XI
A Peculiar Theft
“COME on!” Frank urged the others. “Let's check on the
Hai Hau!”
The boys darted back across the beach. They were about to take a short cut through the grove of trees when Frank suddenly halted. He grabbed Joe's arm and pointed to the water's edge.
“Look! There's what was hit!”
By his flashlight he showed the others where a tree had been split apart by the bolt of lightning.
Tony shuddered. “Whew! If the lightning had hit just the other side of the coveâno more
Hai Hau!”
Relieved, the five companions made their way across the narrow spit of land enclosing the cove. When they emerged through the cluster of trees and brush, they saw the junk lying safely offshore.
“Oh, you beauteous doll!” Tony gave a mimicking hugging gesture.
Jim Foy hailed the boys as they swam back and climbed aboard. “Nice going, fellows! You were a real hero, Chet!” he added, slapping the stout youth on the back.
“He sure was,” Frank agreed. “Untying that line gave us a chance to save the
Hai Hau.
”
“Shucks, it was nothing,” Chet said, beaming modestly but enjoying the praise. “Any of you fellows would have done the same.”
“Except that we wouldn't have tied the junk up in the first place.” Biff grinned.
Frank asked seriously, “How do you suppose those men knew where we had taken the
Hai Hau?”
No one ventured an answer but Joe. “They may be part of a gang and have spies dotted here and there along the shore to help them.”
Chet whistled. “You mean smugglers?”
“Could be. Or boat thieves.”
Tony spoke up. “Fellows, let's get back to Bayport and then talk this over. The sky's going to fall in any second.”
Frank started the motor. A stiff breeze had sprung up suddenly and to increase speed Biff and Tony hoisted sail.
“Wow! We're in for a real blow, mates!” Joe cried, as the junk raced before the wind.
The boys shivered in their wet clothes. Suddenly a jagged streak of lightning illumined the heavens. It was followed by a crashing boom of thunder. A second later the rain poured down in gusty sheets.
A heavy swell was running. As the waves increased in height, Frank shouted, “Douse the sail!”
The crew hastened to comply. Soon the junk was rolling and pitching wildly amid mountainous breakers. One moment the bow would shoot up as the craft raced toward the crest of a wave; the next moment it would plunge into the trough with the stern lifted and the propeller racing out of water.
“O-o-oh! IâI feel sick!” Chet groaned, bracing himself against the cabin.
“Don't think about it. Help us get this centerboard down!” Tony commanded.
Frank clung to the tiller while the other boys made their way forward. The centerboard had swelled and jammed. Biff tried to force it clear with a boat hook.
Suddenly a wave smacked the junk on her port quarter. The boat yawed and started to broach to! A second later the
Hai Hau
was heeling far over in the trough as water poured across the deck.
Just in time the centerboard dropped. Tony immediately plunged aft to Frank's assistance. Between them, they righted the tiller and brought the junk back on course.
“Th-anks, pall” Frank gasped, blinking the water out of his eyes.
The boys were drenched to the skin. They huddled in the stern, hearts pounding, as the junk plowed forward through the storm. When the lights of Bayport came into view, the weary sailors gave a grateful shout.
“Home, sweet home!” Biff exclaimed.
The storm had slackened considerably, and the
Hai Hau
was moored at the pier without difficulty.
“Boy, what a night!” Chet heaved a sigh as he climbed onto the dock. “We didn't find any pirate goldâbut we sure found plenty of trouble!”
“How about you fellows coming up to the house and drying off?” Frank suggested. “You can call your folks from there.”
“Let's do it,” Chet urged the others and they agreed.
Fortunately, Frank had raised the top of the brothers' convertible after parking, so the interior was dry. Biff and Tony got in. Jim Foy said he would ride with Chet in his jalopy.
Aunt Gertrude greeted the sodden group at the door. “Gracious!” she gasped. “Where
have
you boys been? You didn't go sailing in that junk on a night like this?”
“I'm afraid we did,” Joe confessed.
Without waiting for further explanation, Miss Hardy said, “Go upstairs and put on dry clothes. Frank and Joe have enough extra for all of you,” Aunt Gertrude added, although she eyed Chet's stout form askance. “I'll make some hot cocoa right away.”
Later, after cups of steaming hot chocolate and chicken sandwiches, the boys felt revived. The four visitors had called their homes, and Aunt Gertrude had heard the story of the evening's adventures.
“Masked kidnapers!” she gasped. “Oh, what next. Did you call the police?”
Frank sprang up. “Good night! I forgot all about it! Should've done that first thing. My brain must be waterlogged.”
Chief Collig was astounded at Frank's report, and said he would put men immediately on the assailants' trail. “It looks as if they might be henchmen of one of those Chinese who's determined to get the
Hai Hau,”
he stated.
Frank returned to his friends and relayed this idea. “Jim, how about keeping your eyes open for any Oriental strangers in town?”
“I'll do that,” the Chinese-American agreed.
“But those men tonight didn't have Oriental accents,” Chet spoke up. He suddenly snapped his fingers. “Say, they sounded like the guys that Callie and Iola and I heard talking in the cave,” Chet declared.
Tony groaned. “This gets more complicated all the time! I sure hope you Hardys can dope it all out. I can't!”
Before the boys said good night, they made plans for the following day. It was decided that Tony, Biff, and Jim would sail the
Hai Hau
to Rocky Isle. The Hardys would join Chet in exploring the right-hand fork of the cave tunnel.
“They may even have left other clues in the cave that will help us crack this whole mystery!”
The next morning the sky was clear and the sun shone brightly. Frank and Joe had offered to pick up Chet at the Morton farm. They found their chum fully equipped with his spelunking gear, in spite of the summer heat. Joe teased him about it as they headed out the West Road.
“Never mind,” Chet retorted. “This stuff may come in handy if we get in any tight spots.”
“Tight spots are just what I'm worried about,” Joe said with a grin. “We'll probably need a shoe-horn to pry you out in that getup!”
Frank pulled the convertible off the dirt road, and the boys climbed the hillside to the cave. Entering, they made their way to the fork in the tunnel.
“A tight squeeze, all right,” Frank muttered, eying the tiny crawlway. “Well, here goes!”
Dropping to his hands and knees, he squirmed into the opening.
“You next.” Joe grinned wryly at Chet. “I'll go last, so I can pull you out by the feet if you get stuck!”
One by one, the boys wriggled through the cramped, pitch-black passageway. The trio emerged finally into a sizable cavern. Here the glow of their flashlights and the illumination from Chet's helmet lamp enabled them to take in the whole chamber. From its roof hung stalactites, giving a fairyland appearance to the setting.
Suddenly Joe gave a cry. “Look! Someone's been here recently.”
His eye had fallen on something lying on the floor of the cave. He snatched it upâa partially burned white envelope. Evidently the dampness had put out the flames.
“Frank!” Joe exclaimed, straightening the envelope and staring at it. “It's one from our house with a return name and address!”
His brother took one glance, and said tensely, “It must be the envelope you put the two hundred dollars in!”
“You mean this is that thief's hide-out?” Chet asked nervously. “Maybe he's one of the smugglers?”
Frank and Joe did not reply. Instead, they began a frantic search, thinking the two one-hundred-dollar bills might be cached away in the cave. They did not find them, but under a fallen stalactite Chet pounced on another scrap of paper.
“Hey! Here's something else, fellows!”
It was part of a half-burned letter typed on business stationery. The torn-off fragment bore the following lines:
would advise you to get in on the ground floor while
the
stock shares can still be purchased cheaply. The mining deposit is a rich one and the company is bound to realize tremendous profits during the next few
“I'll bet that thief uses his stolen money to buy stock,” Chet guessed.
“Could be,” Frank commented. “Chet, this is a real find. It could be our best clue so far to that burglar.”
Joe mused aloud, “Typewriters all have distinguishing characteristics. If we can trace the machine this was written on, it may give us a real lead!”
“Do you think the burglar is part of some gang interested in the
Hai Hau?”
Chet asked.
“I wonder,” Frank replied. “If so, they know this cave well. The sooner we get busy on this stock-letter clue the better. Let's go.”