047 Mystery of the Whale Tattoo by Franklin W. Dixon

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

Instantly Frank hurled himself backward

“He ran up that gangway,” Chet cried. “Right after he shoved the backbone at you.”

“After him!” Frank commanded.

The boys dashed up the steps to the upper deck. The area was jammed with tourists and also the wharf below.

“Too late,” Joe said angrily. “We’d never find him in this crowd.”

The boys leaned against a rail. “We know his full name at least,” Joe said.

Frank looked surprised. “How so?”

“From Captain Flint,” Joe explained. “It’s Tim Varney.”

Frank nodded approvingly. “Nice work, Joe.” He told them about Varney’s whale tattoo, and suggested they talk to Captain Flint again.

Flint was outraged that such a thing had happened on his ship, and apologized to Frank. “I wish I could tell you more about Varney,” he said, “but I can’t. Nobody around here knows anything about him, except that he’s a drifter.”

“Captain,” Joe asked, “are you familiar with stuffed whales?”

The captain pursed his lips. “Well, there’s only one that I’ve ever heard of. It’s in a museum of natural history. Wait a minute. There’s somebody who knows more about this than I do.”

He walked to the prow of the ship and hailed an old man seated on one of the benches, sunning himself.

“Oh, Murphy!” Captain Flint called out. “Will you come over here, please.”

The man, gray and toothless, waved in reply and walked up to the whaler. “You want something, Captain?”

Flint cupped his hands and asked the question about stuffed whales.

“Sure, I know another one,” Murphy replied. “It was washed ashore on Montauk in the 1920’s. Some carnival guy stuffed it.”

“You know his name or where I can find him?” Frank asked. But the old man shook his head, and shuffled back to his bench.

“That’s a great help, Captain,” Frank said. “Another question. Have you ever heard of a man named Whitey Meldrum?”

“Whitey Meldrum? Sure. He’s an old merchant marine seaman. I don’t know the specifics, but he was mixed up in a couple of shady deals several years back.”

“You have any idea where he is now?”

Captain Flint removed his hat and scratched his head. “I’m not sure, but I seem to remember someone mentioning that he was living in New York. That was about two months ago.”

“Captain,” Frank said, “you’ve been a tremendous help to us and I want to thank you very much.”

“Not at all. My pleasure. Oh, there’s one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“I just recalled. Strange thing, you looking for Meldrum. There was another fellow up here just a couple of days ago. He was looking for old Meldrum, too.”

“Who was he?” Joe asked.

“Marlin. Called himself Spike Marlin.”

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