“If you help us turn the tables on those thieves, we’ll do everything we can to clear you with the police.”
“But if you stick with them,” Frank said, “the way things are going, they’re bound to wind up in prison for life.”
Charlie was silent, looking first at the Hardys and then off into the distance, as he thought the proposition over.
“You’re right,” he said at last. “Now’s my chance. Maybe you won’t believe me, but I just hooked up with Flint. Lure of easy money. I ain’t done anythin’ yet to get me a sentence.” He paused a few seconds. “I got two kid brothers your age. If I get caught now—well, I guess I’ll have to trust you about helpin’ me out. But first, what can I do?”
Elated over this unexpected source of assistance, the boys helped Charlie to his feet and discussed the situation.
“Somebody’s got to find out about our dad,” Frank said. “Flint radioed that fellow back at the diner that Dad needed a doctor. He must be hurt! Where’s Flint?”
“He’s goin’ to the diner,” Charlie answered. “We’re all supposed to meet there later.”
“How about you going back there and finding out about my father?” Frank asked. “Then you can notify the police.”
“And the driver? Can you take care of him?” Joe asked.
“I’ll send somebody out to bring him in,” Charlie promised. “Don’t worry. You can count on me. I don’t want to end up in the chair!”
It was decided that the boys would drive on to the swamp, while Charlie would walk to the main highway and hitch a ride back to the diner. As proof of the boys’ confidence in him, Frank gave the man his gun.
Charlie set off down the rough trail and the boys climbed into the cab of the truck.
“How close do you think we ought to get to that gang?” Joe asked.
“Not too close. We’ll sneak up on foot and find out where they’re taking this equipment.”
“Then we’ll head for the cave to help Cap and Chet,” Joe added as the truck bumped and jounced along.
After that, the boys rode in silence until they saw lights ahead. Frank slowed the truck to a crawl.
“They’re unloading the stuff,” he said. “I would guess they are at the top of the slope above Wildcat Swamp, just opposite where we were digging.”
Several men were busy carrying lengths of pipe and heavy boxes which they were piling behind some bushes. Fortunately no one turned around when Frank braked to a complete stop.
“Now’s our chance to get away!” Joe urged. They quickly climbed out and hurried into the shadows.
By this time streaks of gray were showing in the eastern sky. With the breaking dawn to help them, the boys picked their way toward the swamp. Knowing that the thieves would be camping somewhere near it, they gave the area a wide berth as they made their way toward the sloping bank where they had been digging.
They were skirting the swamp when Joe suddenly stopped to listen. In the distance there was a low hum and rumble.
“The trucks, Frank! They must have finished unloading. They’re leaving.”
“I hope Charlie gets to the diner before they do. That gang’s surely discovered by this time that he and the driver are missing. They’re probably searching for them right now.”
The boys pushed on around the swamp, finally completing a tortuous half circle that brought them to the bottom of the sandy slope in which the camel fossil was buried.
“Say,” said Joe as he reached the entrance to the cave, “what have they done to this place? It’s choked with sand and rocks!”
“The gang must have done it to hide the entrance from strangers,” Frank replied. “I wonder if the other entrance—”
They rushed around to the other end of the slope. The entrance there had been blocked in exactly the same way.
“This is worse,” Joe announced. “I think the other entrance will be easier to negotiate.”
They returned to it, scrambling over the pile of sand and gravel to reach the cave opening. Before entering, Frank played the strong beam of his flashlight as far into the cave as it would carry.
“Cap! Chet!” Joe called.
There was no answer.
“Come on, Frank!”
After a breath-taking slide, they landed in the mouth of the deep cavern, and flashed their lights around. There was no sign of Cap and Chet.
Dismayed and filled with apprehension, Frank began a search of the inner area. “There may be a deeper section to this cave than we thought.”
Seconds later Joe heard his cry of joy. “They’re here!”
Lying in a crevice beneath the far wall, bound and gagged, were their friends. In no time, the Hardys had Cap and Chet out in the central portion of the cave.
“I’ll get the gags off,” Joe said excitedly. “You untie their hands.”
With his pocketknife he sliced the tight kerchiefs with which the captives had been gagged. Even when the gags were removed, Cap and Chet could barely whisper. They were very weak, saying they had had no food since being captured.
After all their bonds were removed, the two found that because of their long inactivity, they could not stand up. Frank and Joe massaged their numbed arms and legs to restore circulation, and in a little while the released prisoners were able to hobble painfully.
“Eat some of these food tablets,” Frank said. “They’ll help until we can get some solid food.”
A few minutes later Cap and Chet were able to give a halting, whispered account of their capture by the phony rangers.
The Hardys burned with anger when they were told that the outlaws had come back a second time to gag their captives and bind them even more securely.
“It was then,” Cap continued with parched lips, “that they tried to seal off the entrances to the cave. They said nobody, not even the Hardys, would see us alive again.”
“I’d like to get my hand on that Willie just once more,” Chet muttered.
“Easy does it,” Joe advised. “Come on now. We have to get out of here.”
It took a long time for Frank and Joe to get their friends out of the sand-choked passageway, but eventually all four stood on the ledge at the slope. Cap and Chet, accustomed for so long to the darkness of the cave, were almost blinded by the early-morning light.
“Listen, Frank,” said Joe, “they’re in no condition to walk. I’ll get their horses, while you stay here with them.”
Cap laid a hand on Frank’s arm.
“No use!” he said in a discouraged, tired voice.
“The men took our horses. We’re stranded!”
CHAPTER XVIII
Trapped!
FRANK shot a startled glance at Joe. The Hardys knew the seriousness of the situation and Cap sensed it too.
“You boys go ahead to Red Butte,” he told them. “Chet and I will take it easy and get there when we can.”
“But the horses,” Chet spoke up. “You can’t go far in this country without horses.”
“Our pack mule,” Joe cried. “He was well hidden. If the thieves didn’t take him, Frank and I will ride to Red Butte and send horses back.”
“Our nearest point to contact the law,” Cap suggested, “is Sheriff Paul.”
“We never did find out what happened at his home,” Frank reminded his brother. “Suppose we see if he’s returned. On their way back to Red Butte, Cap and Chet can stop at the Sanderson ranch to see if everything is all right there.”
Leaving Cap and Chet, the Hardys made for the campsite to look for the pack animal. It was grazing in a little natural corral. The boys threw a blanket across the mule’s back and mounted.
For a moment the mule stood still; then, at a signal from Frank’s heel, it plodded up the slope. Reaching the trail, the animal ignored a signal to turn right and doggedly trudged toward Wildcat Swamp. No amount of coaxing could change its mind.
“Now what are we going to do?” Joe asked impatiently.
“It’s just possible,” Frank reflec
ted, “that our mule has been used by someone else and is taking the route he’s become accustomed to. He may lead us to a new clue.”
The boys rode along without attempting to guide the animal. It headed straight for the defile, went through it, and stopped just above the spot where Cap and the boys had been digging.
“Well, what do you make of this?” Joe asked, perplexed.
Frank jumped off and started down the slope, waving to Joe to follow.
“Somebody else has been digging here—they even put up a sign!” he cried.
“ ‘Danger,’ ” he read aloud. “ ‘Explosives buried. Keep out.’ ”
“I wonder if that’s a trick to scare people away from here,” Joe pondered.
“We’d better not stop to find out,” Frank replied. “But I think we should warn Chet and Cap in case it’s true.”
This time the mule willingly carried the boys in the opposite direction. Reaching camp, he turned in.
“Somebody sure has been using this mule recently,” Frank said. “I wonder if it was to carry dynamite.”
“Sure looks like it—if the sign means anything,” Joe answered.
At that moment Cap and Chet wearily arrived at the camp.
“What’s up now? I see you found the mule, but why did you come back?” Chet asked.
Quickly the Hardys explained and urged their friends to stay away from the pit.
When Cap agreed, Frank and Joe started off again. Reaching the trail, their mule once more turned left.
“Oh, no, not again,” Joe cried, trying his best to guide the animal to the right.
“Now what?” Frank pondered. “It’s a long walk to Sheriff Paul’s.”
Joe broke a leafy twig from a sapling and remounted. “Frank, you walk ahead the way we want to go. I’ll see what I can do from here.”
His brother took the lead rope and started. The mule walked four steps, then stopped. Joe tickled its ear with the twig. As the mule’s attention was distracted, Frank coaxed it a few feet farther.
The boys continued this maneuver until the animal seemed to lose interest in going back. There was no more trouble and Frank climbed up behind his brother.
Meanwhile, Cap and Chet were at a loss. Without horses they certainly would not be able to go far.
Sitting before their tent, Cap’s far-roving eye spotted a movement on the hillside.
“What are you looking at?” Chet asked.
“I’m not sure, but I’m beginning to work up a hunch,” Cap said. “Come with me.”
As they scrambled down the incline, Cap let out a cry. “I was right! Our horses!”
The two mounts were tethered in a grove of pine trees.
“So this is where those phony rangers hid them!” Chet exclaimed.
“Now we can do a little traveling of our own!” Cap cheered. “Let’s get started for the Sanderson ranch.”
Stiffly they swung into the saddles, and a minute later were loping along the trail.
While all this was happening, Frank and Joe were still swaying from side to side on the back of the mule. Without a horse to follow, the mule ambled along at a pace of his own choosing.
After three hours of stumbling over sand-covered rocks and sliding along bare shale, the mule brought the boys in sight of the sheriff’s ranch.
“I hope somebody’s here,” Joe said, “to give me a tall glass of water.”
Dismounting, the boys tied the mule behind the barn and went to the door of the ranch house.
“Hello!” they called. No answer.
“Looks exactly as it was before,” Frank said, pushing the door open.
Seeing their note lying on the table, the boys went through to the kitchen. The unwashed dishes still rested in the sink and the basket of clothes remained untouched.
“It’s obvious that Mrs. Paul hasn’t been back here,” Joe said. “Shall we start for Red Butte?”
“Yes, but through open country. I don’t want to be trapped again.”
As the two boys crossed the living room, Joe noticed something strange. “Say, the radiotelephone’s gone,” he said.
“That means somebody has been here since we left,” Frank stated.
Before the Hardys could ponder the riddle further, a distant clatter of hoofs caused them to glance out the window. Three riders in green uniforms were galloping up to the house.
“The fake rangers!” Frank warned. “We’d better get out of here.”
The boys hurried through the kitchen, closing the back door quietly behind them, then crossed the yard rapidly and hid inside the stone-and-rail corral attached to the barn.
No sooner had they concealed themselves than the men galloped up and dismounted. Through a crack in the corral fence, the boys could see that one of the men was short, wiry, beady-eyed Willie the Penman! The flat-nosed, fierce-looking man with the craggy brows obviously was Snide.
Willie gave a laugh of satisfaction. “This is a snap with the sheriff out of the way, Snide,” he said. “He sure bit on that ‘missing rangers’ gag.”
“Willie,” Snide said, “I have to hand it to you. The sheriff walked right into that one. Nobody’d ever look for him in the tower.”
Nudging his brother, Joe whispered, “I wonder where this tower is they’re talking about.”
Willie’s whining voice continued. “We can’t stick around here long. I’ll get those seals I’ll need to make the papers look legal. Somebody might—in fact, somebody is coming. It’s that Sanderson kid. Quick! Take off those uniforms. Pretend you’re waiting for the sheriff. I’ll hide in the barn.”
Frank and Joe watched Willie’s companions strip off the rangers’ uniforms, revealing cowboy outfits underneath. Willie carried the discarded clothes through the open barn door.
Harry rode up to the men, who greeted him in a friendly manner.
“I’m looking for the sheriff,” the boy said. “I need his help.”
“We’re waiting for Paul ourselves,” Snide answered. “What’s your trouble?”
Frank and Joe clenched their fists, hoping the boy would say no more. But Harry continued earnestly:
“Well, a couple of days ago two boys promised me they’d help Mom find a way to keep her land. They had a campsite near Devil’s Swamp and have disappeared. I want Sheriff Paul to help me find them.”
“No use,” Snide said. “Those boys named Frank and Joe told me they were going back to their home in a place called Bayport. You might as well go home yourself. Just wasting your time here.”
Harry looked surprised when he heard the Hardys mentioned, but still seemed undecided. “I’ve got to see the sheriff,” he insisted.
“I’ll give him your message, kid.”
“Well, okay.” The boy wheeled his horse and rode slowly past the corral on his way out.
“Now’s my chance,” Joe whispered to Frank.
Crouching low and running as quietly as possible he came to the far corner just as Harry did and peered through the bars.
“Pretend you don’t see me, Harry,” he said in a loud whisper. The boy stiffened. “This is Joe Hardy. Get off your horse and act as if you’re tightening the cinch.”
Without looking toward Joe’s hiding place, the boy dismounted and began adjusting his saddle.
“You’ve got to get to Red Butte for help,” Joe continued. “These men are in with the gang that’s after your land! They’re holding Sheriff Paul in a tower. Hurry!”
Harry played his part well. He nodded slightly, mounted his horse, and trotted away. Leaving the ranch, he spurred the animal into a gallop. Harry rode at breakneck speed for a mile, then slowed down to rest his horse.
About to resume his fast pace, Harry saw two riders approaching. They guided their horses on either side of him and one man grabbed his reins.
“Whoa, there, kid!” the larger of the two husky riders said. “Where are you going in such a rush?”
“To town,” Harry blurted out. “There’s a gang of crooks trying to steal Mom
’s land and they’re holding Sheriff Paul a prisoner!”
“How’d you find all this out?” the other man asked.
“Joe Hardy told me. He and his brother Frank are hiding at the ranch right now. You’ve got to help us!”
“Oh, we’ll give you a hand, all right.” He turned to his big companion. “Give him both hands!”
The man seized Harry’s wrists and tied them behind his back. He lashed the boy around the waist to the pommel of his saddle and hobbled his horse with a length of rope. The animal would be able to move only a few inches with each stop.
Harry’s eyes were wide with fright. “What’s the idea? You must be—”
“That’s right, kid,” the big man said. “You talk too much to the wrong people.”
Leaving Harry helpless, the men then whipped their horses and galloped on toward the Paul ranch.
Back in the corral, Frank and Joe were still crouching behind the fence. Willie the Penman had gone into the ranch house, but the others remained outside.
There was the clatter of hoofbeats.
“Two men!” Joe whispered, peering between the bars at a pair of riders cantering toward the house. “They can’t be reinforcements sent by Harry. It’s too soon for that.”
When Willie and his henchmen recognized the newcomers, they stepped out to meet them. The men spoke in low tones that did not carry to the corral fence.
“This doesn’t look good!” Joe warned. “Look! They’re fanning out all over the place as if to cut off our escape.”
“Snide is coming this way!” Frank exclaimed, crouching lower.
Stalking cautiously around the corner of the fence where Joe had talked to Harry, Snide turned along its near side. As he reached the end, the boys quietly retreated toward the barn. A few yards more and they could make a run for it.
Suddenly there was a shout from behind them.
“There they are!”
Whirling, the boys found two big cowboys between them and the barn.
Snide ran toward them from the other side.
Frank and Joe were trapped!
CHAPTER XIX
To the Rescue
SNIDE, seeing the Hardys, twisted his mouth to one side and called:
“Come on, Willie!”
The Secret of Wildcat Swamp Page 10
