“Count me in!” Chet exclaimed. “I can always catch up on lost sleep later.”
Ted and Chief Whitestone helped the Hardys in their preparations. Ted wanted to go on the search, but his father forbade this because of his exhausted condition.
Finally, equipped with hooks, picks, shovels, rope, and flashlights, the boys started off for the clearing where the teepee stood. When they arrived, Frank surveyed the area in the moonlight.
“The crisscross shadow has to be around here somewhere,” he stated firmly. “If it wasn’t made by teepee poles, then there must be another object which casts a shadow of the same type.”
Joe pointed to the sheer side of the mountain that rose out of the clearing.
“Let’s climb up there and have a look,” he suggested. “We’ll be able to see over a wider expanse from that height, and we may catch something we haven’t noticed before.”
Picking their way carefully up the steep slope, they finally reached the top of the mountain. The boys paused to catch their breath as they surveyed the whole panorama.
Their eyes swept back and forth across the scenic view below them. Intently they took in every detail, seeking the sign of the buried treasure.
“Nothing here,” Frank said. “Let’s look on the other side.”
They walked across the level summit which was barely a hundred feet wide. The far side dropped off in a sheer cliff. Across a narrow ravine rose another steep rocky slope.
Suddenly Joe clutched the other boys’ arms.
“Look!” he cried, his voice rising in excitementment. “Down by that crevice in that cliff over there!”
CHAPTER XVII
A Parted Rope
“THE crisscross shadow!”
“We’ve found it at last!”
“Hurrah!”
The three boys stared at a perfect crossed shadow just above a cleft in the rock wall of the mountainside facing them. It was made by two overhanging slender pinnacles of rock.
“Wait a minute,” Frank said. “We’ve found the shadow, but it would be suicide to try climbing down to it.”
“One misstep and we’d be goners.” Chet shivered.
“We’ve got to get down there somehow!” Joe said with determination. “The future of the Ramapan tribe depends on the deed to their property! There’s a narrow ledge just below us. If we could only—”
“Let’s try a rope,” Frank suggested, uncoiling one he was carrying over his shoulder.
He flung the end far out over the edge of the cliff. It wriggled down the stone face. The tossed coil apparently swung to the floor of the ledge, although from where they were standing the end of it was not visible.
“Quick! Tie the rope around a tree,” Frank called out. “I’ll go down first.”
“Say, whose idea was this treasure hunt?” Chet objected. But as he gave a look downward, he added, “On the other hand, I’d hate to be selfish.”
The Hardys grinned as Joe securely tied one end of the rope to a large tree trunk. Frank tested it to be sure it would hold; then, clutching it firmly, he let himself over the edge of the cliff and hand over hand started his descent.
Reaching the place where he thought the ledge continued under a sharply jutting overhang, he was doomed to disappointment. Instead of a flat surface, there was a pinnacle upon which it would be impossible to land.
“It’s no use,” he called up.
The climb back was more difficult. The rope creaked and Joe and Chet feared it might fray apart from the constant rubbing against the rocks and toss Frank into space. But he finally made it and was hauled up the last few feet.
“Chet,” Frank said, “how about your going back and telling Chief Whitestone what we’ve found out? He’ll certainly want to throw a guard around this place until proper equipment can be brought to get down there. Meanwhile, Joe and I’ll keep watch.”
Chet immediately crossed to the wooded side of the mountain and began to climb down. Hindered by his bulky figure and heavy clothes, he slipped and slid, making a great deal of noise.
Rising, Chet started the trek through the woods. Suddenly he halted. He had heard a sound in the brush. The palms of his hands turned clammy as he listened intently. But he did not hear the rustling again.
Shrugging his shoulders, though his heart was hammering, Chet walked on, trying to tread as noiselessly as possible. In a moment he heard the sound once more. This time it was directly behind him!
As he swung around he was grasped roughly and thrown to the ground. A hand was clapped over his mouth. He struggled violently, but in vain.
His masked captors bound and gagged him, then carried him to a large tree.
“Okay,” one of the attackers said gruffly. “You know what to do with this pest!”
“Yeah, but he weighs a ton,” another protested as Chet was hoisted up to the first limb.
In a few minutes he was tied to the upper part of the tree trunk, out of sight of the ground.
“Next we’ll take care of those meddling Hardy boys!” the leader declared.
When Chet heard the ominous words, he was terror-stricken. As the men moved off, he struggled to free himself, but he could not budge an inch. His heart sank as he realized that he was powerless to warn his friends.
In the meantime, Frank and Joe found a spot some fifty feet farther along the mountain where they thought they could get down to the ledge.
“Let’s try it!” Joe urged. “Maybe we can hop across from there to the side where the shadow is.”
They tied the rope around a tree.
“My turn this time,” Joe declared.
He went down carefully, landed on the narrow ledge, and calculated the distance to the other side.
“Okay, I’ll start down,” Frank called.
When he was within eight feet of the ledge, he felt the rope quiver. He looked up. His blood froze.
High above him, silhouetted against the moonlit sky, a masked face peered down at him. Alongside it was a hand holding a knife.
“Frank!” Joe cried in horror. “Somebody’s going to cut you off!”
Frank reached out desperately to save himself, but it was too late. With a single swipe of the knife, the strands were severed.
Frank went tumbling through the air!
With superhuman effort Joe braced himself and caught Frank as he came hurtling down the cliffside.
But for several moments it was nip and tuck between life and death as they swayed and teetered near the rim of the ledge. Then Frank was able to regain his own balance.
Near exhaustion, Frank and Joe sat down, oblivious even of the taunts being called down by the man at the top of the cliff. But finally his raucous voice broke in on their thoughts.
“Now what are you going to do?” he snarled.
Another joined him and jeered at the boys, “You can’t go down. You can’t go up. You’re trapped!”
“That’s Breck!” Frank whispered excitedly.
“And York!” Joe added.
“Well, that definitely ties Dad’s and our cases together!”
“Guess we’ll just have to sit it out until help comes,” Joe said. “Chet ought to be back soon.”
But as the minutes passed and none of their friends arrived, the Hardys began to grow uneasy.
“Maybe Chet was captured,” Joe remarked apprehensively.
The thought sobered them still more. Waiting made them nervous and fidgety. Finally Frank stood up.
“As long as we’re here, let’s cross over to the other ledge and look for the hidden papers and the dagger,” he suggested.
By inching along the narrow strip they came to a place where the leap across was not too hazardous. In a few moments they were on the other side and hurrying to the spot where they had seen the crisscross shadow.
Frank chuckled. “Those men on the top of the cliff may think we’ve escaped.”
“Let ’em think so! We’ll be well screened!”
Reaching the place where the
two rock pinnacles were casting their shadow in the moonlight against the cliffside, the boys could now see a narrow opening just below it.
“The papers are probably hidden in here somewhere,” Frank remarked.
They took out their flashlights. Shielding the beams from any prying eyes above them, they began to search.
The two young detectives went over every inch of the rocky surface. For several minutes there was only the sound of their boots scraping the floor of the narrow opening. Then suddenly Joe gave a low cry!
CHAPTER XVIII
A Perilous Ruse
FRANK pulled a small rusty chest from a miniature cave hidden among the rocks. He turned his flashlight on it.
After trying unsuccessfully to open the lock, Joe finally pried off the lid. From inside gleamed a million beams of light.
“The jeweled dagger!” he cried excitedly, picking up the fabulous weapon. The handle was studded with rubies, diamonds, and emeralds.
“A regular pirate’s treasure!” Frank exclaimed.
“The papers are here too,” Joe said, digging down for a yellowed bundle.
“See if the deed is there,” Frank told him.
Joe opened a legal-looking document. He scanned it rapidly.
“This is it, Frank. The deed to the Ramapans’ land!”
Just then they heard voices.
“We’d better hide this again,” Frank advised.
Joe reached up and replaced the chest. Then quickly the boys scrambled out to the ledge. As they hurried along toward where they had leaped, the voices grew louder.
“Frank! Look over there! They’re coming down!”
Breck and York were dangling on a long rope almost across from where the boys were standing.
The Hardys’ first thought was to jump across and try to overpower their enemies, but they realized that a fight on the ledge would mean destruction for all of them. Frank and Joe decided to wait and see what the men’s intentions were.
The pair had removed their masks and were cautiously making their way down the face of the cliff. The boys waited tensely.
“Maybe they’re going to bargain with us,” Joe said hopefully.
Frank did not agree, but replied, “We’ve got to outwit them. Let’s try stalling them off until help comes.”
“How?”
“I’m thinking,” his brother answered. “We might—”
He had no chance to finish his sentence, for at that moment Breck dropped onto the ledge, and his companion followed a moment later. They jumped the span and faced the Hardys menacingly.
“Keep your distance, Breck!” Frank warned.
The boys had their shoulders to the wall of the ledge, alert for any move their enemies might make.
“Don’t worry. We’re not going to touch you. We’ll let starvation take care of that.”
“What we want to know,” the other man spoke up, “is where the treasure’s buried.” He guffawed. “You found the crisscross shadow for us.”
“What treasure?” Frank asked in a surprised tone of voice.
“Don’t give us that innocent stuff,” Breck growled. “You know where it is and you’re going to tell us!”
“How about a little exchange of information?” Frank countered. “You give us some, we’ll give you some in return.”
Joe clutched his brother’s arm. “You’re not going to tell them, are you?” he whispered anxiously.
Frank pressed Joe’s fingers in a negative signal.
“A deal, eh?” Breck sneered. “You want to make a deal when you’re cornered? What’s the game?” He turned to his companion. “What do you think?”
“Sure,” the other replied. “What have we got to lose?”
“Okay. Shoot,” Breck said to the boys.
“Tell us, then,” Frank asked, “what are you really after?”
“Very simple,” Breck replied. “I’m only helping Mr. York here regain his rightful inheritance.”
“What inheritance do you mean?” Joe spoke up.
“This land belongs to him.”
“And what’s more, we don’t intend to let Chief Whitestone produce any papers to disprove it,” York chimed in.
“We were getting along fine until you young meddlers came into the picture,” Breck went on. “You almost ruined things for us, but now we’ve got you and your fat friend too.”
“Chet Morton’s been captured?” Frank cried.
“Yeah.”
Joe moved forward. He wanted to choke this ruthless scoundrel. But Frank held him back.
“We warned you to lay off,” Breck sneered. “But you didn’t pay any attention. Thought you were smart detectives, but look where it got you.”
The boys remained silent, seething as Breck recounted the story of the plot to deprive the Ramapans of their land.
“Now, you’ve come to the end of the line,” Breck said, his voice becoming cold as steel. “You and your father.”
“Where’s Dad?” Frank cried.
“That you won’t find out. And now how about your end of the bargain? Where’s the treasure hidden?”
When the boys did not answer at once, he cried, “Come on! It’s almost daybreak and we’ve got to clear out of here before it gets light!”
Joe looked at Frank, who was clenching his fists.
“You want the treasure, eh?” the older boy parried.
“Hurry up!”
“Walk along this ledge. You’ll find a slab of rock sticking out. Turn in there and keep going. Feel around for more sharp-pointed rocks and start counting. When you get to the twelfth one, reach up.”
Joe could hardly keep his face straight. How plausible Frank’s story sounded!
The two men in their eagerness forgot to be cautious. While they followed directions, arguing all the way, the boys waited till they were out of earshot before speaking.
In a moment they were far enough away. Frank whispered to Joe, “The rope! Let’s use it now!”
Swiftly and silently the boys jumped to the other ledge. They grasped the rope, and reeling it as they climbed, worked their way to the top of the cliff.
Suddenly there came a shout of anger from below. “Hey, you double-crossers, come back!”
As the boys scrambled to the top, Breck and York yelled curses from below.
“We’ve made it!” Joe exclaimed, throwing his leg over the top of the cliff and dragging himself up. Frank quickly followed.
“You have, eh?” a voice cried out.
They looked up. Three strange men, obviously armed, had them ambushed!
“If you value your lives, don’t run!” one yelled.
The unequal struggle lasted only a minute. The boys were once more prisoners. Getting a close look at one of the trio, Joe whispered to Frank:
“Look at the one in the Indian suit! He’s the man I shadowed that day I was attacked by Smirkis!”
“Shut up!” the man ordered.
A second one said, “You guys have given us a lot of trouble. We ought to drop you over the cliff. What say, gang?”
Meanwhile, the rope which was tied around a tree had been let down. At that moment Breck and York appeared at the rim. It was daybreak now and in the light the boys could see their angry faces plainly.
“You lied about the treasure!” Breck yelled. “We don’t go for things like that! Come on, York! We’ll show them!”
He grasped Frank by the shoulder while York grabbed Joe. With the others helping, the boys were slowly but surely pushed toward the edge of the cliff!
CHAPTER XIX
Mousetrapped
WHEN Frank and Joe were only twenty feet from the edge, struggling with all their might against the men who were shoving them backward toward certain death, Frank suddenly shouted:
“Time out!”
He had caught sight of two figures racing toward them. Chet and Ted!
Chet had escaped from his enemies, they thought thankfully. But now in his desire to rescue the Hardys, he was runn
ing straight into danger.
At Frank’s outcry Chet stopped short and grabbed Ted. He was not exactly sure what Frank had meant by his signal call, but he interpreted it to mean that he should wait. Anxiously he and Ted slipped behind a boulder to await further instructions.
The assailants, surprised at Frank’s strange words, halted also.
“What’s the idea?” Breck demanded.
Frank looked him squarely in the eye. “If you still want that treasure, for Pete’s sake don’t push us over the cliff. You don’t know where it is and we do.”
“That’s right, boss,” one of the men said.
“They double-crossed us once. They’ll do it again,” Breck replied.
“We didn’t double-cross you before,” Frank said. “We just didn’t tell you to go far enough. Listen. You have nothing to lose. We’re still your prisoners.”
Breck thought this over a moment. “What are you driving at?” he asked finally.
“We want to live,” Frank answered.
“I say give them a chance,” York spoke up. “We want those papers.”
“Okay.” Turning to his henchmen, Breck said, “You stay here with them. If they give you any trouble, you know what to do! York and I will go down the cliff again.” He glared at the boys. “You’d better be telling us the truth this time! Where’s the treasure?”
Frank had a desperate plan in mind.
“Continue from where you were before. A few yards to your left you’ll see a narrow opening in the rocks. Walk five feet in there, reach up above your head, and you’ll find a box.”
The eyes of Breck and York gleamed with excitement. Quickly they began to descend the rope to the ledge below. The three men who stayed behind took positions in a triangular formation to guard the Hardys.
All this time Joe had been listening dumbfounded to Frank. Like the other two boys, however, he had realized that Frank had some plan. Watching closely and waiting with every muscle tense for a signal, Joe was rewarded a moment later.
“34—86X!” Frank yelled.
The secret play! Chet’s number was 34. The center poised for action!
“Hey, what’s the—?” the guard on Frank’s left started to say.
He got no further. The four boys rushed at their enemies. Frank, veering to the left, tackled one guard, throwing him to the ground. Joe mowed down the man on his right in a flying leap.
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