“You’re all under arrest. Do you want to talk here or down at headquarters?”
Chin Gok and his two henchmen sullenly made it plain they would talk neither place. But Ti-Ming said he welcomed the chance to clear himself.
“I am not guilty of any lawbreaking,” he began. “I am a private detective. I go from place to place to get evidence on smuggling.”
Frank and Joe were thunderstruck. A detective! And he solved smuggling cases!
Would Ti-Ming’s story clear up the mystery of the Chinese junk?
CHAPTER XVIII
Legend of Treasure
To VERIFY his story, Ti-Ming produced a New York private detective’s license and several letters from Hong Kong. They identified not only him without a doubt, but the friends with him as well.
“Why didn’t you tell the police all this when you came here?” Chief Collig demanded.
“Because I was not yet sure whether the Hai Hau was the stolen junk I was looking for; whether Chin Gok’s gang or someone else had smuggled goods into this country on it; and whether he had learned of a certain secret hidden aboard the junk. Until I was, I thought it wiser to keep my true identity under cover.”
Ti-Ming explained that six junks similar to the Hai Hau had been stolen in Hong Kong, probably by Chin Gok, painted, and given new figure-heads and names. It was thought they had been shipped to various ports of the world, all with smuggled goods aboard. One of these boats belonged to a friend of Ti-Ming’s.
“In Hong Kong,” the Chinese detective went on, “a story was told by a workman that on one of the junks an ancient clue to a great fortune could be found. This workman was injured and before dying told this much but could never finish the story. So far as known, no one has learned the secret.”
Ti-Ming smiled. “Naturally my friend hoped the secret was hidden in his boat.”
“What is the fortune?” Joe asked eagerly.
Ti-Ming did not reply.
“You needn’t answer that question now,” Collig said. “Go on with your story.”
The detective bowed slightly. “My friend heard that a shipment of boats had gone from Hong Kong to New York and asked me to investigate. The Hai Hau was the only used junk among them, and I am sure from certain features and other marks that it is my friend’s boat. To avoid confusion and publicity, I offered to buy it. When these honorable boys refused to sell, I followed them to Bayport and tried to continue my search without their suspecting me. But they are very wise young men.”
Despite the compliment to them, the Hardys and their friends exchanged worried glances. “Then it is true we bought stolen property!” Frank remarked solemnly.
“I am afraid so,” Ti-Ming replied. But smiling, he added, “The rightful owner authorized me, after I notified him of my find, to say that you may keep the Hai Hau until fall, but in the meantime I am to be permitted to continue my hunt for the clue to the fortune.”
The Hardys looked toward Chief Collig, who gave the Chinese a quick answer. “You may search only with a police escort, Mr. Ti-Ming, and anything you find will be kept by me until we have further proof of ownership.”
Ti-Ming nodded. “That is very fair. And now, if you will excuse me, my friends and I will say good evening to you gentlemen. I will return in the morning, when I will search for the valuable clue to the fortune.”
Chin Gok and his two henchmen glared in hate after the departing Chinese. Still refusing to admit anything, they were led off to the Bayport jail. Chief Collig asked Frank and Joe to follow. Surprised and wondering, they said good night to their friends and followed in the convertible.
At police headquarters Chief Collig attempted once more to make his prisoners talk. But he was unable to extract any information from the three men.
“Empty their pockets,” he ordered a guard.
Aside from knives carried by two of the men, nothing incriminating was found until they searched Chin Gok. A turnout of his pockets revealed a blue amber tiger gem!
Joe pounced on it. “Chief! This is like the jewels in the cuff links!”
Collig’s eyes narrowed. “So you were the man who threw Frank Hardy down the clothes chute! All right, speak up! What have you got to say for yourself?”
Chin Gok’s long face twisted into a sneer, but he said nothing.
“Okay, if they won’t talk, lock ’em all up!” Collig growled. “Chin Gok, we’ll hold you for assault on Frank Hardy. The others will be charged with disturbing the peace while we make a further investigation.”
After the three Chinese had been led away, Chief Collig took the brothers into his office. “Get ready for a bombshell,” he said. “Dr. Montrose has disappeared!”
“What!”
“After you gave us the tip on him, my men went to call on him. When they found his office locked, we became suspicious and broke in. Everything but the heavy furniture was gone.”
Joe whistled, and Frank said, “Yes, go on. Then you went to his house?”
“Right away. Same thing there.” Collig smiled. “I guess you boys broke the case of a fake-doctor thief.”
“You mean there weren’t two men working together?” Joe exclaimed.
Chief Collig rubbed his chin. “On that score I’m not sure. Montrose may have returned to the victim’s houses himself and stolen their securities, or he may have had a pal take them.”
“Chin Gok, perhaps?” Frank suggested.
The chief shrugged. “I hadn’t thought of that until the cuff-link angle came up. The point now is to find Dr. Montrose. Well, boys, thanks for your help. And if you get any leads, let me know.”
“We sure will,” Frank promised and with a grin added, “If Chin Gok talks, call us, please.”
“I’ll do that. By the way, I never did get in touch with your father. He was always out.”
The Hardys left for home, conversing on the way about each detail of the mystery. “I’m beginning to reconstruct things this way,” said Frank. “When Dr. Montrose left our house, after Aunt Gertrude was getting sleepy, he slipped the lock on the front door. He took Mrs. Witherspoon home and returned to open Dad’s safe. Something frightened him and he ran off in a hurry, leaving the front door open. Then Chet came along.”
“Sounds good,” Joe remarked. “But if he steals securities whenever he gets a chance, why didn’t he take the ones in our safe?”
“He didn’t want that particular job to look like a robbery,” Frank answered. “All he wanted was Dad’s file on the Chameleon.”
Joe’s eyes opened wide. “Are you trying to tell me you think Montrose is the Chameleon?”
“I am.” Frank gave a loud sigh. “And we let him slip right through our fingers. The Chameleon is sure a perfect name for that guy! He managed to fool other doctors in town evidently.”
Joe said he thought they should phone their father at once, so as soon as the boys reached home, Frank put in the call. His brother, meanwhile, gave Aunt Gertrude an account of the evening’s adventures.
“Dr. Montrose!” she cried out. “And he seemed like such a gentleman! So he’s not, eh? Then he ought to be tarred and feathered when they catch him. The idea of giving people sleeping pills and then robbing them!”
“Take it easy, Aunty,” Joe advised. “Remember, we haven’t proved a thing yet.”
By this time Frank had made the connection to California and in a moment his father came on the phone. Mr. Hardy listened in amazement to the story and his sons’ deductions. Then he said:
“One of my secret findings contained in the Chameleon’s files was that he had read a great deal about medicine and learned enough to pose as a doctor. But the last place I’d expect to find him practicing would be Bayport ! At the time the file on Balarat was taken from my safe, I had just received a good lead that he was out here, and I figured some cohort of his had opened the safe.”
Mr. Hardy went on to say that the ex-convict might remain in hiding for some time, now that he knew his latest role as a doctor had been detect
ed. “But keep your eyes open, Frank, and Joe too,” the ace sleuth advised. “I will fly home tomorrow with Mother to take up the hunt.”
After Frank put the phone down, Aunt Gertrude looked hard at him, then said crisply, “Not one more bit of mystery tonight for either of you boys. You both look as white and tired as if you’d been through an epidemic!”
“An epidemic of clues,” Joe quipped, but he and Frank were glad to climb into bed and were asleep in a few minutes.
The following morning was bright and warm and the Hardys looked forward to a full passenger list for the Hai Hau. They found Aunt Gertrude busy in the kitchen taking muffins from the oven.
“Wow! What a breakfast!” said Joe. “Here’s a kiss for the cook.” He planted one on her cheek.
“Good morning, Aunty,” Frank added, putting an arm around her.
The wall phone in the kitchen rang. Joe picked it up and listened a moment, then burst out:
“What! Chin Gok and the other two prisoners have escaped, you say, Chief?”
CHAPTER XIX
Sleuths in Danger
FRANK, Joe, and Aunt Gertrude were stunned by Chief Collig’s report that the three Chinese prisoners had broken out of jail.
“Somebody helped them,” Aunt Gertrude declared firmly.
“He sure did,” Joe agreed. “The chief said someone slugged the jailer and opened the cell they were in. The fellow was masked and as slick as they come. Nobody saw him sneak in.”
Frank gazed into space. “I wonder where the bunch of escapees went. They must be in hiding. Maybe—”
“Maybe what?” Aunt Gertrude asked.
Her nephew merely smiled and she knew his idea was still in a nebulous state. He would tell her later when it was fully formulated. As the brothers drove down to the Hai Hau to help with the day’s run, Frank said:
“Joe, I was thinking of that cave on Rocky Isle and those blinking lights. It’s just possible Dr. Montrose is hiding out there.”
“And perhaps Chin Gok and his pals?” Joe queried.
“Yes. Let’s take a look and if we see any of them we’ll radio the police.”
At the pier Frank and Joe found Chet with his spelunking gear, ready to explore the cave. But when the stout boy heard of the jail break and Frank’s supposition that the wanted men might be hiding there, he looked worried.
“I don’t know that I’ll explore, fellows. You can’t move fast in this gear and I sure couldn’t run if I had to.”
“Well, suit yourself,” said Joe.
Several picnickers had already gathered. Among them were Callie Shaw and Iola Morton. The girls had brought a basket of food, a portable record player, and a beach bag containing towels and bathing suits.
“Hey! Look who’s here!” Joe cried out.
“Be our guests!” Frank invited. “We’ll reserve deluxe seats right here with the crew—no charge!”
The two girls dimpled into pleased smiles but insisted upon paying their own fares.
Laughter and banter continued as the junk cruised out of the harbor. Then Iola turned on a new hit record.
“Too bad there’s not enough room to dance.” she sighed. “Let’s all sing instead!”
Everyone joined in the chorus, drowning out the crooning voice on the record. Biff sang slightly off key.
“Hey! Those pipes of yours are rusty!” Tony joked and held up an oilcan. “Try some.”
Presently the radio connected with the Hardy home signaled and Aunt Gertrude’s voice came on. Frank put it down to low volume so only the young sleuths and their friends could hear her.
“A phone message just came from Ardvor College,” she said. “Dr. Montrose was never a student there and the president is very upset by his claims. I’ve notified Chief Collig. Anything else you want me to do?”
“Not now. And thanks a million, Aunty,” said Frank. “Over and out.” Turning to his friends he added, “If we need extra proof about that phony, we have it now!”
As soon as the junk tied up at the wharf, its passengers trooped ashore and headed for the beach. Frank told the girls that he and Joe were going to the cave, but did not give the reason. Chet decided to don his spelunking helmet and accompany them. Tony, Biff, and Jim would go back to Bayport for the second load of passengers.
The Hardys and their stout chum tramped across the island. Reaching the park guard’s house, they stopped to ask Dave Roberts if he had seen any blinking lights or cliff climbers on the northern end of Rocky Isle.
“No,” he replied, and the boys went on.
The trio skirted the rocks along the shore and half an hour later started up the cliffside. Twenty minutes of scaling brought them to the mouth of the cave.
“If those jailbirds climbed up these rocks, they sure made it hard for themselves,” said Chet, puffing. “I don’t believe they’re here.”
“Just the same, we’d better talk in whispers,” Frank recommended.
The three boys pressed forward into the gloomy cave. They had barely entered when several rocks near the opening went clattering down the hillside. The vibration loosened a massive chunk of limestone hanging from the cave ceiling.
It plunged straight toward Joe’s head!
“Look out!” Chet yelled.
Joe dived clear in the nick of time, aided by a lightning grab from Frank. The huge chunk of limestone smashed on the spot where Joe had just been standing! All three boys were showered with whitish dust and rock fragments.
“Whew! It—it was almost curtains that time!” Joe’s voice came in a weak whisper. He lay sprawled full length on the cave floor.
Frank helped him to his feet. “Are you all right?”
The massive chunk of limestone plunged
toward Joe
“I guess so—thanks to you two!” Joe gulped. “Boy, if you hadn’t yelled, Chet—”
“Now you know why I wear this miner’s hat!” Chet replied.
Suddenly Frank said, “We certainly made a noisy entrance. If anyone’s hiding, we probably alerted him.”
Joe nodded. “That gives him the advantage. We’d better proceed with the utmost caution and not get trapped.”
As they advanced, the boys beamed their flashlights in every direction. Presently they found themselves in an enormous room.
Pearly terraces rimmed the walls, extending far back into the cliff. Glittering calcite icicles hung from the ceiling.
“This is a living cave,” Chet whispered. “That means there’s always water seepage going on. It builds these queer, shiny formations. When the seepage dries up, the rock gets dull and crumbly, and the cave becomes dead.”
Chet now lighted his helmet lamp and the boys proceeded deeper into the cave. The floor became more rugged, forcing them to pick their way along cautiously.
The path they were taking gradually sloped upward. Another branch of the cavern, opening on their right, seemed to lead down toward the base of the cliff. The boys hesitated, uncertain which way to go.
“In the daytime those men would be more likely to hide down below the top of the cliff,” Frank suggested.
The others nodded, and the boys pushed on into the right-hand cavern. Here, the “icicles” increased in size to huge spearlike stalactites. Here and there similar-shaped stalagmites reared upward from the floor. Sometimes the twin formations joined in glistening pillars or columns.
“Just think! This was all done by water dripping slowly for hundreds of years,” Chet marveled.
“What a spectacle!” Frank whispered. “This place ought to be opened up to the public.”
Most eye-stopping of all was a frozen cascade that had formed over a ledge, like a miniature Niagara of stone. It glistened with a fairylike brilliance in the glow of the flashlights and lamp.
“Chet, this is super. I’ll never make fun of your spelunking again!” Joe declared in a low, awed voice.
To add to the beauty, some of the deposits were tinted orange, red, and brown. Chet explained that this was due to iron
oxide and other minerals in the dripping water.
As the boys continued downward into the cliff, their body heat caused wispy fog to form in the cool, damp air. Suddenly Frank halted and listened.
“I thought I heard a voice.”
The boys tiptoed ahead and presently the twisting passageway opened into a larger cavern. In the middle lay a huge pool, its surface covered with a thick scum of green algae and slime. A slight movement of the water indicated that the pool was being fed from some underground source. The ocean?
“Look!” Frank whispered excitedly, pointing across the pool.
Joe and Chet swung their lights toward the spot. Revealed was a typewriter with the name Zeus on it. No doubt the stolen one! Next to it was a low table on which stood stacks of what looked like bonds or other financial certificates. On top of these was a foot-square bamboo box with Oriental characters on it.
“We’ve found it!” Joe gasped. “This is the thieves’ and smugglers’ hi—”
His words ended in a groan as a hard object crashed against his skull! Before Frank and Chet could turn around, they too were struck down from behind. All three sank into blackness.
When the Hardys and Chet regained consciousness, it was like waking to a flickering nightmare. The boys could feel ropes biting into their wrists and ankles. They were bound and propped against one wall of the cavern, now lighted by carbide lamps. Frank’s watch revealed that three hours had gone by since the boys had left the dock.
Frank was first to collect his wits fully. Then Joe and Chet slowly brought their eyes to a focus on four figures leering down at them; Dr. Montrose, Chin Gok, and two rough-looking men in seamen’s dungarees.
“The phony coastguardmen!” Frank said grimly.
“Yes,” one of them replied, “but you’ll never live to report where we are.” He laughed scornfully.
Frank took a deep breath. “In that case, you won’t mind clearing up the mystery first,” he said, sparring for time. “Dr. Montrose, we know you’re Balarat, the Chameleon. You’re wanted on various charges, including the display of a fake diploma. But what is your connection with Chin Gok?”
The Mystery of the Chinese Junk Page 11
