020 Mystery of the Flying Express by Franklin W. Dixon

020 Mystery of the Flying Express by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER XI

An Unequal Match

FRANK waded out of the tank, with lobsters clinging to the legs of his pants.

Joe laughed uproariously.

“Go ahead, make fun of me!” Frank said, shaking them off. “I’m lucky I escaped those crawly creatures alive!” Then he grinned. “I guess we had the wrong boathouse, all right.”

Frank took off his shoes and poured water out of them. He set them aside while he removed his socks, then squeezed water from the bottom of his pants legs.

“Listen, Frank,” Joe urged, “we’d better get out of here. If someone sees us, we might have trouble explaining why you went swimming with the lobsters.”

“Right.” Frank grabbed his shoes and they returned to Callie’s car.

Next they scoured the shoreline farther down the coast. Spelling each other at the wheel, they passed several red neon signs and plenty of boat-houses, but not one looked familiar.

“We certainly weren’t this far down when we had our encounter with Zigurski!” Frank observed glumly. “We’re nearly at Shark Harbor.”

Joe agreed. “But since we’ve come this far, how about paying Dad a visit?”

“Good idea. It’s only a short run to the bridge.”

Fenton Hardy was staying at a small motel on Shark Island, a narrow spit of sand paralleling the mainland for about ten miles. He was not in his room. The desk clerk said he was at the State Police barracks nearby.

The boys found their father in the crime lab, where members of the felony squad were inspecting about fifty pieces of marine equipment. Mr. Hardy made the introductions.

“Quite a lot of goodies you collected,” Joe remarked.

“But only a small part of what was stolen,” a detective said. “This loot was found in an abandoned house.”

Fenton Hardy pointed to a foghorn. “That will interest you.”

Frank held it up. Someone had marked it in rough letters with the one-word notation: Hardy.

Joe exclaimed, “This must be the foghorn I ordered from Skee the other day!”

“Skee?” said another detective. “We know a Skee, too. Let’s hear about yours first.”

Frank described the youth who had offered to sell them used maritime equipment cheap. “Joe ordered a foghorn, and that’s the last we’ve seen of Skee.”

“Your description fits Skee very well,” the detective stated. “He’s the leader of a gang of young thieves who run in a wolf pack along the coast.”

“Dad, that may be the cue for us!” Frank exclaimed. “Skee doesn’t know we’re on to him, and he’ll probably turn up with another foghorn. As far as he knows, Joe is still his customer.”

“If we nab him red-handed,” Joe added, “we should be able to break up the wolf pack! And if by any chance Skee’s tied in with that gang you’re after, we may hit a double jackpot.”

“And possibly find Henry Chassen,” Frank said.

One of the policemen nodded. “That seems to be the ticket, Fenton. Your boys have developed a sound strategy. Attack the problem at both ends —Shark Harbor and Cape Cutlass—and see if the two lines of investigation converge on a single solution to all the robberies.”

Frank



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