022-The Flickering Torch Mystery by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-08-07T14:27:05+00:00

CHAPTER XIII

PLICKEBING TORCHES

"You two get out of here!" rasped the voice in the darkness of Barmet Bay. "It's a dangerous place!"

"Y-yas, sir," said Chet hastily. "We're g-going. Eight away, sir. Hurry up, Frank St-start the engine."

But Frank was in no hurry to leave. "Why \s it dangerous?" he asked.

"Get moving!" ordered another man in the boat. "Don't ask questions."

"G-g-gosh, Frank, don't argue with them," stammered Chet, "1-let's leave."

"There'll be trouble for you if you don't," 6 aid the first man angrily.

"Are you from the Police Department?" Frank asked, trying to distinguish who was in the other boat.

The strangers were not answering questions. They repeated their order. Their voices had a threatening tone.

"Oh, all right," said Frank. "I guess we'd better go back to Bayport. Pull up the anchor,"

he ordered Chet.

The stout boy whipped the anchor up into the boat in such frantic haste he almost tumbled no

Flickering Torches 111

overboard. Frank started the engine. The Sleuth chugged away slowly. The Hardy boy

swung the wheel around and headed for the bay.

"And don't come back!" shouted one of the men from the darkness.

The motorboat gathered speed. Chet heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the welcome lights of Bayport in the distance.

"Oh, boy! Am I glad to get away from there!"

"I hope we don't run into that pair next time," said Frank.

"Next time!'' yelped Chet. '«There isn't going to be any next time!''

'' Sure there is. And pretty soon, too. We 're going back."

Frank swung the steering wheel. He knew every foot of the Barmet Bay shore line. Even in the dark he could find his way into the little cove toward which he was now returning. Chet protested. Enough was enough, he said. He could not believe his chum was in earnest about going back.

"You heard what they said," he reminded Frank. "They said it was dangerous there. And they ought to know, if they're police."

"If they were, they would have told us," declared Frank.

"I guess you're right."

"Do you want me to leave you on shore?" asked Frank.

"I should say not," replied Chet firmly.

112 The Flickering Torch Mystery "I'm in this to the hitter end. I wasn't really frightened," he insisted. "Maybe I was for a few seconds, but then I thought it might be a good idea to pretend to those men I was."

"Chet Morton, you surprise me more every time I see you," grinned Frank. "But you're a swell friend, just the same."

In the shelter of an inlet of the bay, he cast anchor again, untied the tow rope of the canoe, and drew the light craft alongside the Sleuth.

"Get in, Chet."

The canoe wobbled perilously under the boy's weight. He sat down gingerly and picked up a paddle. Frank followed, climbing into the stern. They steered the craft along the base of the cliffs, heading back toward the cove. When they reached it, Frank whispered to paddle slowly. The canoe slipped forward without a sound.

The cliffs loomed black and menacing above. The little cove was darkly sinister ahead.

The boys heard voices.

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