The Masked Monkey by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781101657294
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 1972-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI

Dangerous Stranger

JOE casually turned around for a look. The doorway was empty!

“Whoever it was, he’s gone,” Joe said.

“Well, he sure gave you fellows the once-over,” Chet stated. “Kept staring at you as if you were his long-lost cousins.”

A sudden thought caused Joe to sit bolt upright. “What if this character followed us from Belem, Frank! Maybe it was San Marten!”

“What did the man in the Panama hat look like?” Frank asked.

“Small, scrawny. Has blond sideburns. Wears steel-rimmed spectacles.”

Joe breathed a sigh of relief. “It wasn’t San Marten, thank goodness.”

“Could be one of his gang,” Frank stated. “On the other hand, maybe the man thought we were somebody else and realized his mistake.”

“Well, I watched him for a while to make sure,” Chet said. “He never took his eyes off this booth till Joe turned around.”

“Listen, they’re announcing Dad’s plane,” Frank said.

Joe nodded. “Let’s go outside and meet him.”

The boys quickly paid their check and went to the gate. The detective came through shortly and shook hands with all of them.

“How much time do we have before our flight leaves for Bayport?” he asked.

“An hour, Dad,” Joe replied.

“Then let’s park ourselves somewhere and compare notes about our investigations.”

“Okay, Dad,” Frank said.

They went to the airline waiting room, where they settled themselves in easy chairs around a low table. Mr. Hardy kept a firm grip on his black briefcase.

“This is loaded with vital documents,” he said in an undertone. “I’d be in big trouble if a thief grabbed it and got away.”

“Have you had any breaks in your investigation of the passport gang?” Joe asked.

“Yes. A man carrying one of the stolen and doctored passports was apprehended at Kennedy Airport.”

Chet looked glum. “Then there’s nothing for us to do, Mr. Hardy. You solved the case without us.”

The Bayport detective smiled. “Not quite, Chet. Our suspect clammed up. I’ll have to run down more clues before I collar the ringleader. You fellows and your pals may come in handy before we round up the gang. By the way,” he continued, “how’s your own case progressing? Have you found Graham Retson?”

Frank described their fruitless quest for Graham in Brazil and Joe told about San Marten’s attempts to eliminate them, including an account of the hideous Diabo.

Mr. Hardy frowned. “I didn’t think the Retson case was going to be that dangerous,” he said, sounding worried.

“That isn’t all, Dad,” Joe went on. “We haven’t found Graham, and now Mrs. Retson is missing.”

“Come again?”

“Chet can explain. He was there.”

Chet repeated the story of how Mrs. Retson had vanished from her room.

“As I understand it, Chet, you, Phil and Tony were supposed to keep Whisperwood under surveillance,” Mr. Hardy said mildly.

“Correct, sir,” Chet said. “But we were out golf ball scavenging when Mrs. Retson got away.”

A voice over the loudspeaker announced that the plane for Bayport was ready to board. Gripping his briefcase firmly under his left arm, Mr. Hardy led the way to the ramp. Once on board, he retired to the back of the lightly loaded plane to examine some papers.

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