Frank and Joe kissed her good night and drove to the dock.
“Let's look up Mike the watchman and tell him our plan,” Frank said.
They hunted around but could not find Mike. Frank, indicating a nearby warehouse, remarked, “Doesn't he guard that too? Maybe he's inside. Let's look.”
They found the great sliding door to the pitch-black building part way open. Frank snapped on his light and entered, then stepped back in con. sternation.
Mike lay on the floor unconscious, bleeding from a deep gash in his head!
Frank leaned over and began counting the pulse beat in Mike's wrist. “Pretty feeble,” he announced.
Seeing a wall telephone, Joe put in a call to police headquarters. Meanwhile, Frank was using thumb pressure to stop the bleeding. A few minutes later a police car and an ambulance arrived. Mike was lifted onto a stretcher and carried away as the two officers, Hanley and Darkle, began to question the Hardys.
Frank was busy giving them full details when Joe, who had gone outside, exclaimed suddenly, “Frank, I just spotted two guys sneaking around the cabin of the junk! Let's see what they're up to!”
As he spoke, the shadowy figures reappeared, scrambling to the dock.
“There they are!” Joe cried out.
His voice must have carried. With a glance in the boys' direction, the intruders raced off along the wharf. The Hardys and the two policemen sped after them. The fugitives darted past parked cars and piled-up freight cartons, and disappeared into an old warehouse.
“We have 'em trapped!” Joe exulted.
“Maybe!” Frank muttered.
When the four pursuers reached the warehouse, Hanley tried a small door, which yielded to his push. A faint scuffle of footfalls reached the ears of the four as they entered.
“I'll use my pocket flash,” Joe whispered, reaching for it.
Frank grabbed his arm. “No sense making targets of ourselves.”
Hanley was groping along the wall. Finding a light switch, he clicked it on. Dim illumination flared from bulbs on the rafters overhead. The warehouse was stacked with bales and crated goods.
“Now what?” Joe murmured.
“Stay behind Darkle and me,” Hanley ordered, as the officers began a search among the piled-up merchandise.
The next moment a faint bang came from the farthest corner of the warehouse. The Hardys and the police converged toward the source of the sound.
“A trap door!” Frank exclaimed, pointing to the floor. “And no ring to pull it open.”
Hanley pried it up and Joe pointed his flashlight down the hole. A slime-covered ladder led downward to dark, oily water. Evidently this part of the warehouse jutted out on pilings. The next moment the group heard a splash of oars dwindling in the distance.
“What a break!” Joe groaned. “Those men must have had a rowboat hidden under here!”
The boys rushed out of the warehouse with the police and down to the waterfront. They peered out, straining their eyes for a glimpse of the rowboat, but it had disappeared.
“We've lost 'em!” Frank muttered. “And I'll bet they're the ones who slugged Mike.”
“I'll ask the harbor patrol to look for them,” Hanley said.
“In the meantime, Joe and I will go aboard the
Hai Hau
and see what those fellows were up to.”
A fresh shock awaited the Hardys when they went aboard. The cabin was in wild disorder, with bunk cushions pulled out and accessories strewn about the deck.
“Those men must have been searching for something!” Frank said worriedly.
A brief check indicated that no serious damage had been done to the junk and nothing was missing. Relieved but baffled, the boys restored order, all the while speculating on what the intruders had been looking for.
“Probably contraband,” Frank guessed. “Wonder if they found any.”
“I doubt it,” said Joe. “Every place they tore up we'd already examined.”
Hanley and Darkle came aboard. They too were puzzled by the mysterious search.
“You fellows may as well go home,” Hanley told them. “The police will look after your junk from now on.”
“Swell,” said Frank.
He and Joe went to their car and at once turned on the short-wave radio. In a moment they were talking to Aunt Gertrude.
When she heard that they planned to return home, she remarked, “Good! You'll be much safer in your own beds! I'll watch out the window for you.”
As soon as they reached the house, the brothers used the second-floor extension to call first one, then another, of the co-owners of the
Hai Hau
to tell them what had happened. Tony was angry, Biff annoyed, Chet a little scared.
Only Jim Foy seemed genuinely alarmed. “I do not like this,” he said. “The junk must be most carefully guarded. Some evil influence is at work.”
“I sure agree,” said Joe, who was talking to him. “Well, see you in the morning.”
The Chinese boy had just said good-by when the alarm buzzer sounded throughout the house.
“Ohâoh!” Joe exclaimed. “The prowler again?” He and Frank dashed downstairs to nab him. When the doorbell rang almost instantly, the boys relaxed. Evidently the caller was friendly.
Aunt Gertrude was already answering the ring. She gasped as a huge Chinese towered in the doorway.
“Chin Gok!” Frank murmured, as he and Joe came down the steps.
“Well, what is it you want?” Miss Hardy demanded, a trifle shakily.
The Chinese bowed low. “I wish to speak to the young men,” he answered.
“Aunt Gertrude, this is Mr. Chin Gok,” Frank spoke up. Miss Hardy nodded.
“I would not trouble you at this time, but it is a matter of the utmost importance,” Chin Gok went on. His voice was polite but insistent.
“All right. Step inside.” Frank held the door open and Chin Gok entered, ducking his melon-shaped head. The Hardys ushered him into the living room and they all sat down.
“What have you come to see us about?” Joe opened the conversation.
“About the junk which you purchased in New York. Once again I beg you most earnestly to sell it to my humble self. Name your own price!”
The boys glanced at each other but remained silent. Chin Gok went on, “I will admit to you certain interests in Hong Kong are most anxious to obtain the
Hai Hau.”
“What interests?” Frank challenged.
“A group of religious worshipers,” the huge Chinese replied. “You see, the
Hai Hau
is a sacred boat to my people. Once it was used to transport a large statue of Buddha from Singapore to Hong Kong. I repeatâwe will pay any price you ask, within reason!”
The Hardys were more mystified than ever. Also, they were tempted by the chance to realize a large profit. In view of all the difficulties they were having, it might be wiser to sell the junk. On the other hand, Frank and Joe hated the thought of giving up an unsolved mystery, and besides, they would have no summer job.
Just then the telephone rang and Frank went to the instrument in the hall. A moment later he gasped. Putting down the phone, he beckoned Joe to join him.
“Wow! Wait till you hear this!” he whispered.
CHAPTER X
Shore Pirates!
“WHAT'S up?” Joe asked his brother excitedly.
Frank shot a quick glance toward the living room from which Chin Gok was eying the boys with intense curiosity, then replied in a low voice:
“That was a telegram from Ti-Ming. It said, âDon't sell the
Hai Hau
at any price or the curse it carries will descend on you!' ”
Joe was startled, but was careful to show no outward sign of this, since Chin Gok's eyes were still fastened on the Hardys.
“Looks as if Ti-Ming's trying to throw a scare into us,” Joe murmured.
“Could be,” Frank replied. “But why? Anyway, let's not give Chin Gok any encouragement about buying the
Hai Hau.”
“Check.”
The brothers rejoined Aunt Gertrude and the Chinese caller. Frank addressed Chin Gok. “We'll think over your offer, but we don't plan to sell.”
Chin Gok dropped his air of exaggerated polite-ness. A look of rage twisted his features. Losing his temper completely, he stood up and shrilled, “Youâyou foolsâ” and burst into a torrent of Chinese.
Aunt Gertrude drew herself up. “You cannot talk to my nephews that way!” she said icily. “You will leave immediately.” She gestured toward the front door.
Chin Gok, although still muttering angrily, retreated slowly. The instant he was on the front porch, Miss Hardy shut the door firmly.
Joe looked at his aunt admiringly. “Wow! You really convinced him you meant business!”
Aunt Gertrude frowned. “Yes. But I almost wish you boys had sold him that junk. I have a feeling it will only bring more trouble.”
Frank spoke up. “Joe and I can't give up work on this mystery now.” Joe nodded vigorously.
The next morning the Hardys and their partners assembled at the Chinese junk. Although only four passengers bought tickets for the trip to Rocky Isle, the boys refused to let their spirits be dampened.
“Heave ho!” Tony sang out as he cast off.
Several people on the dock made sarcastic comments as the
Hai Hau
pulled away from the pier.
“You got plenty of life rafts aboard?” called one man derisively.
“Don't need 'em,” Biff called back, unruffled. “We just had a swell repair job on the hull.”
His confident manner and words allayed any qualms the junk's passengers might have had. Everyone relaxed, and soon were laughing and singing as the Hai
Hau
glided across the bay.
Once on Rocky Isle, the four travelers enjoyed a refreshing swim and leisurely picnic. The boys returned for a second group. This time there were five.
When the
Hai Hau
returned to its pier on the last trip back, the owners felt that it had been a most successful day, even though there had not been a capacity number of passengers on either excursion.
“Simply thrilling!” a pleasant-faced woman exclaimed as she disembarked. “I've always wanted to sail in one of these Chinese ships and I enjoyed every minute of it!”
The other passengers added their delighted comments, which could be clearly heard by the group of spectators on the dock.
“We're over the hump!” Tony chuckled, and his companions grinned happily.
After the onlookers had dispersed, Frank said to his partners, “What say we give the junk another going-over tonight and hunt for hidden smugglers' loot?”
“You don't have to ask me twice,” Tony answered.
“Same here,” the others spoke up. Biff added, “But let's not make our search at the dock.”
The boys arranged to meet after supper and sail to some secluded spot up the bay where they could conduct their investigation undetected.
When the Hardy group, including Chet, gathered on the pier at the appointed time, Biff remarked wryly, “Boy, we sure could have picked a better evening!”
Tony glanced at the overcast sky. “You said it ! We'd better keep a weather eye out for a storm.”
The humidity had risen steadily since late afternoon, making the air hot and muggy. Not a breath of wind stirred.
Frank started the outboard and they set off. As the
Hai Hau
pulled away from the dock, lightning flecked the horizon.
“Ohâoh! Hope that's just heat lightning,” Chet muttered.
The boys cruised offshore and finally picked a hidden cove several miles from Bayport to drop anchor. The Shore Road ran close to the beach at this point, but a row of large willows partially screened the junk from anyone using the road.
For over an hour the Hardys and their chums searched the
Hai Hau
from stem to stern. But no hidden cache was revealed. By now the stormy-looking sky had become very dark.
Frank lighted a pair of lanterns, quipping, “Okay, team. Night shift coming up.”
Chet wiped his perspiring forehead. “Say, boss, don't we get time out for a snack? I'm hungry.”
The plump youth's eyes had fallen on a bag of cookies which Jim Foy had brought along. Jim chuckled and passed the bag around. “Thought these would come in handy.”
Biff bit into one of the crisp cookies. The next moment he said, “Hey! What's this little paper inside?”
“Pull it out and learn your future.” Jim grinned. “These are Chinese fortune cookies.”
Biff extracted the tiny strip of paper. He read aloud:
“GREAT WEALTH Is IN STORE!”
“We'd better keep looking for that smugglers' loot!” Biff exclaimed in glee. “Maybe it's pirate gold!”
Laughing, the other boys examined their own fortunes. Frank's warned, “YOUR BEAUTIFUL EYES SPELL TROUBLE,” and the others roared with laughter. Joe's advised him not to trust a certain red-haired girl he would meet.
“Good advice,” Biff remarked. “Iola wouldn't like her, anyway.”
Tony's fortune told of an impending discussion with a stocky, dark man. “My dad probably,” Tony joked. “He'll have a few things to say if I get home late!”
Chet was looking indignantly at his paper. “Huh! Mine says, BEWARE! You EAT TOO MUCH!”
His friends burst out laughing. “Better not finish that cooky,” Frank said with mock gravity.
“You guys don't understand,” the stout boy asserted. “I just need lots of food energy for all the work I do!”
His words were greeted with fresh merriment. “Listen! I'll bet you're too out of condition to balance on the rail of this junk!” Joe dared him.