033-The Yellow Feather Mystery by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-08-07T14:26:43+00:00

"They're certainly different," Greg observed.

He was eager to try Kurt's copy on the library books. Frank was agreeable but suggested that Joe go to bed.

"You've had a brutal day," he said.

"Guess I could use some shut-eye," Joe admitted.

Chet yawned. "How about me? Breakfast, lunch, and dinner for a pack of hungry wolves."

"Okay." Frank grinned. "I'll have breakfast in bed-sausage, cakes, plenty of syrup."

"And coffee with a yellow feather," Chet said. He turned his back on the others and pretended to be snoring.

Frank and Greg, armed with a flashlight, tiptoed down the deserted corridor carrying Kurt's copy of the cutouts. They entered the library and closed the door behind them. There was not a sound but the ticking of the old-fashioned clock on the wall. Its hands stood at midnight.

The two settled themselves at a large table. With the aid of the flashlight they re-examined many of the books they had checked earlier that evening. For more than an hour they tried to obtain a combination of words that made sense.

"I guess it's hopeless," Frank conceded finally. "I'm beginning to think that your grandfather may have given Kurt a copy of the cutout sheet but not a true one."

A Mysterious Envelope 109

"You mean he didn't dare give him an exact copy because he didn't trust him?" Greg asked.

"Yes. Mr. Woodson may have felt it wise to have Kurt think he was in his favor. Who knows? Being ill and maybe at Kurt's mercy, your grandfather had no choice."

"It sounds reasonable," Greg agreed. "My grandfather was a very clever man."

"If my guess is right," said Frank, "there's no use continuing our search."

"Let's head for bed," Greg proposed, and Frank followed his companion out of the library.

Their eyes accustomed to the darkness, the boys moved silently through the wing. Just before they reached the main part of the building, Frank suddenly stopped short.

"Sss-s-t! Greg-wait-"

Frank was staring upward at the frosted-glass transom of one of the classrooms.

"What's up?" Greg whispered.

"I'm sure I saw a light flickering in there," Frank answered. "There it is again!"

Frank gripped the knob and flung open the door. Almost with the same motion, his other hand found the switch for the overhead light. Illumination flooded the room.

A man in a dressing gown, his back to them, stood in the middle of two rows of desks.

He was holding a small flashlight and seemed frozen into immobility. But in a second he turned.

110 The Yellow Feather Mystery "Mr. Kurt!" Greg and Frank cried.

The man blinked and for an instant a look of terror crossed his face. Then, recognizing his discoverers, he glared at them balefully.

"Why are you wandering about at this hour?" he thundered.

"We saw a light in here," Frank explained, "and came to see who the burglar was."

"I'm just inspecting the classrooms. I do it every once in a while," Kurt explained testily, walking toward them. "You needn't trouble yourselves by snooping."

On a hunch Frank moved quickly toward the spot where Kurt had been standing.

Casually he glanced down at the nearest desk.

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