“Wait a second!” Joe exclaimed. “We’re forgetting about Dad’s transceiver! Maybe we can call some ham in this area for help!”
Frank hesitated, then shook his head. “Too risky. Don’t forget, Lachine’s on the air every night. If he heard our call, he and René might come back and hunt us down.”
Joe paced back and forth, swinging his arms to keep warm. “What about the life raft? Think we could make it downriver on that?”
Frank weighed the odds. “The river’s freezing fast. If we hit any ice, we’d be goners.”
On the other hand, the boys thought any move seemed preferable to staying where they were. If they returned to Lake Okemow, they might be able to filch supplies from the lodge until some form of help arrived from the outside.
“Okay. Let’s try it!” Frank said.
Joe inflated the raft with a CO2 cartridge while Frank cut tree boughs to use as sweeps. Taking only blankets, a flashlight, and the transceiver, they pushed off downriver.
Almost at once the raft was seized in the fast current. The Hardys worked frantically, fending off jagged ice and trying to control their frail bark. The wind stung their faces as they steered into the swirling blizzard. At times the curving river put the wind cross-stream, threatening to beach or capsize the raft.
The snow-filled darkness increased their danger, making it hard to see obstructions or changes in course. Numb with cold, Frank and Joe continued on doggedly.
Hours went by, and the boys had lost all track of time, when at last the wilderness seemed to open and they found themselves approaching the river mouth. Poling their craft ashore, the Hardys flopped exhausted on the riverbank.
Not far away lay the lodge, its windows aglow with light. After hiding their raft, the boys crept up to the building and peered inside.
Lachine, René, and three other men were seated comfortably around the fireplace. They were talking and laughing as they drank mugs of steaming coffee. Frank and Joe identified Lachine’s “guests” almost at once. The biggest one, blond and pug-nosed, was undoubtedly Afron. The other two were the auction thieves!
“Those dirty rats!” Joe mumbled. “And they think we’re freezing to death out in the woods!”
The lodge’s radio gear was in plain view.
“Keep watch and tell me if Lachine goes on the air!” Frank hissed. He squatted down in the snow and hoisted the transceiver antenna.
Within minutes he succeeded in contacting a ham at Moose Factory. He hastily explained the situation. The ham, who was outraged to hear of Lachine’s treachery, soon reported back that a plane would take off from the island post as soon as the weather abated.
“Looks as if this blizzard could keep up till morning,” Joe muttered.
“We’ll be lucky if it stops then,” Frank said.
A lean-to storage shed adjoined the lodge. To evade the bone-chilling wind, the boys decided to take shelter inside until daybreak. Wrapped in their blankets, they settled down against a pile of logs. Soon both were nodding.
Frank awoke with a start hours later. Daylight was showing through chinks in the shed. Steps came crunching closer in the snow outside.
Frank jerked wide awake. He shook his brother. A hand fumbled at the latch outside, then the door creaked open. The dark face of René, the guide, gaped in astonishment at the two boys.
Frank sprang at the man before he could cry out. Joe seized his leg and the burly guide flopped backward into the snow. But there was no chance to clap a hand over his mouth. René bellowed like a wounded ox.
The man was tremendously powerful. He shook off the two youths easily. One swipe of his huge fist sent Frank spinning into a snowbank. By this time, Lachine and the two auction thieves were running from the lodge. René stunned Joe with a blow, then grabbed him in a crushing bear hug. The others overpowered Frank.
“So, mes enfants!” Lachine leered at the two boys. “You prefer us to deal with you here, instead of dying in the wilderness, eh?”
The men were dragging Frank and Joe toward the lodge entrance when Nils Afron came striding out. He grinned in vicious satisfaction.
“So the brats got back alive. Now we’ll make ’em pay for causing us so much trouble!”
“You’re the ones in trouble!” Joe flared back. “Soapy Moran’s in jail and Zetter soon will be. We know all about your racket!”
Afron sneered. “That won’t help you boys.”
The baldheaded thug muttered angrily, “I knew it was a mistake hiring Moran to spy on them. That cheap con artist had to put us all in danger for a measly ten-buck swindle!”
“It wasn’t Moran who blew the whistle on us,” his fat partner said. “We’d still be tuning in on Lektrex if these kids hadn’t traced the bug!”
“Forget it!” Afron snapped. “Our Philly crew and the West Coast crew haven’t been nabbed yet. We’ll all be back in business before long.”
At the droning sound of an approaching plane, Afron and his henchmen turned their heads skyward. An amphibian was swooping down toward the lake! Lachine gasped.
“Sacrebleu! M’sieu Ardmore arrive, I think!”
Frank and Joe took advantage of the distraction. They jerked free from their captors and dashed into the woods. Afron and his men pursued them as the Hardys dodged through the trees, toward the lake.
Meanwhile, the plane landed and taxied to the pier. A tall, broad-shouldered man leaped out, followed by two Mounties in parkas.
Glancing back, Frank saw Lachine’s face go ashen with fear. His panic-stricken pals scattered, but the loud crack of revolver shots brought them to a frightened halt.
In minutes Afron, Lachine, René, and the two gangsters were lined up in front of the lodge, their hands raised in surrender.
“Dad!” Joe gasped as the tall man embraced his two sons. “Don’t tell me you were Ardmore?”
The grinning detective nodded. “I thought you two might need some help in smoking out Afron, but it seems you’ve already done it alone.”
Mr. Hardy explained that the blizzard had threatened to delay his arrival Nevertheless, he had contacted the Mounties on landing at Timmins. After hearing of his sons’ call for help, he had managed to find a bush pilot willing to fly him to Moose Factory.
All five prisoners were taken to the Mountie post. Lachine and René were charged with plotting the Hardy boys’ deaths. Afron and his two men were held for extradition to the United States.
Not until Sunday afternoon were the Hardys able to take off from Moose Factory. A Mounted Police officer told them Afron had seized a jailer’s gun and tried to escape, but had been unsuccessful.
“Dangerous as a snake, that fellow,” the Mountie commented. “He boasted he’d been in too many tight spots to be taken by any backwoods cops. But this is one spot he won’t leave without wearing handcuffs.”
Frank was thoughtful on the flight to Timmins.
“What’s on your mind?” Joe asked, curious.
“I’m just thinking about what that Mountie told us, and what Jimmy’s uncle told him.”
Joe stared at his brother. Suddenly his eyes lit up. “Wow! If you’re right, Frank, Batter’s treasure was right under our noses!”
Mr. Hardy listened keenly as the boys explained. “It’s a clever hunch,” he agreed.
Early Monday afternoon they arrived in Bayport. Frank made two quick telephone calls.
“Mrs. Batter sold the house Saturday,” he reported. “She’s there now, clearing out the last few items so the new owner can move in.”
“What about Jimmy?” Joe asked.
“We can pick him up at school.”
Joe chuckled. “Let’s get Chet, too. He has a right to see the end of this.”
Later, as the three Hardys, Jimmy, and Chet drove up to the former Batter estate, they saw Mrs. Batter near the garage. She was adding several items to a pile of trash and furniture.
“Well!” she said coldly. “I hear you caught those thieves.”
“Yes,” said Frank.
“I’m sorry we never did get back your animals.”
Mrs. Batter sniffed. “No matter. I may as well tell you, my husband hinted he’d hidden something valuable in the house—but I’m sure now it was just talk. That was Elias all over!”
“Mind if we look through this trash?”
“Go ahead. You won’t find anything.”
Joe was already extricating “D. Carson’s” stuffed, speckled king snake from the pile.
Seeing its speckles, Jimmy blurted excitedly, “So that’s what Uncle Elly meant by looking ‘in the right spots.’ ”
“Maybe,” Frank said. He fingered the body of the snake tensely. Then, using a length of wire he had brought, the young detective fished down through the snake’s gaping mouth.
There were gasps as Frank pulled back the wire. Dangling from its hooked end was a necklace of glittering pear-shaped diamonds!
“The Crescent necklace!” Joe said. “Pretty tricky of Batter to use fake nameplates to throw everyone off the scent!”
“Give me that!” Mrs. Batter cried.
“No, you don’t!” Jimmy snapped. “This belongs to a store and it’s going back there!”
“Good for you, son,” said Fenton Hardy. “I wonder what’s on that paper.”
A paper strip was tightly rolled around part of the necklace. Frank removed and opened it.
“It’s some sort of typed confession!”
The closely spaced typing gave a complete account of the Aardvark gang’s industrial espionage activities, including names, description, and hide-outs of all members. Batter’s statement told of his own work on the bugged animals and said he was putting the information about his pals down on paper as an “insurance policy” to keep the gang from double-crossing him or harming him.
At Bayport Police Headquarters, Fenton Hardy made a long call to Toronto, where Afron and his two cohorts had been taken to await extradition to the United States. When he hung up, the investigator smiled with grim satisfaction.
“Baldy has just talked. Seems he’s still sore over the way his partner left him stranded at the Lektrex plant. He’s willing to waive extradition and testify as a government witness.”
The gangster, Mr. Hardy reported, said that Batter had demanded more and more money from the gang for his work. When Afron balked at paying it and threatened him, Batter had warned that a written confession about the gang was hidden in a safe place in Bayport and would be turned over to the police if anything happened to him.
“Something Batter said convinced Afron the confession was hidden in one of the stuffed animals,” Mr. Hardy went on. “That’s why they tried so hard to round up all samples of Batter’s work in Bayport. Finally they even took the stuffed fox from Lektrex and looked in it.” The animals had later been dumped in the bay.
Afron had alerted his men in Bayport when Mr. Hardy returned from Europe. The two thugs had trailed the Hardys’ car from the airport to the restaurant, hoping to steal and examine his case report. But Baldy had had time only to snatch back their antenna before being seen.
“Well, we nabbed Zetter yesterday,” said Collig, “so I’d say the case is about closed.”
The police chief turned to Jimmy. “It’s a good thing your uncle found the necklace too hot to dispose of, young fellow. There’s a five-thousand-dollar reward still standing for its recovery.”
“Five thousand?” Jimmy whistled in awe and looked at the Hardys. “Will I get part of it?”
Frank and Joe grinned, though they were sorry their sleuthing activities were over for the time being. Very soon, however, they were to start solving the case of The Secret Panel.
“Jimmy, the money is yours,” said Frank. “You gave us the first clue.”
“Oh, boy!” Jimmy yelled excitedly. “Wait’ll Ma hears this! And say, she was going to bake a big chocolate cake for you fellows. I hope it’s the kind you like!”
“Are you kidding?” Chet licked his lips. “Let’s go sample it right now and I’ll give you an expert opinion!”
The Short-Wave Mystery Page 12
