The Hooded Hawk Mystery

by Franklin W. Dixon

  As he folded the letter, Frank said, “I wonder if we could get a photograph of Bangalore.”

  “I’ll try to locate one,” Radley offered.

  Frank then told him of the clue about the pigeon fancier using the name Bhagnav, and the boys’ decision to phone Mr. Delhi. Joe put in a call, but there was no answer at Mr. Ghapur’s home, where the emissary was staying.

  “Anything more I can do for you boys?” Radley asked. “I’ll continue to keep an eye on the lodge.”

  Frank and Joe could think of nothing else. They mentioned Kane’s shadowing the Daisy K’s crew and that they expected a report from him soon.

  “And I think we should talk to the Coast Guard,” Frank remarked.

  “I did that while I was waiting for you,” Radley said. “The local men have found nothing suspicious on boats or ships in the area they cover. Of course they don’t go out far beyond the twelve-mile limit. Does that suggest anything to you?”

  “You bet it does!” Joe spoke up. “For one thing, it seems to back up our idea that a large ship anchors offshore, receives some sort of signal —or maybe sends its own message by carrier pigeon. Then the smuggled Indians are taken off in boats like the motor dory we trailed last night.”

  “But why couldn’t the Coast Guard fly out there and spot such a transfer?” Frank pointed out. “When the dory reaches our waters, it could be nabbed.”

  “I suppose they might,” Radley agreed. “But if the smuggled Indians swam a distance from a large ship to the smaller boat at night, the Coast Guard sure would have trouble spotting them.”

  “And it’s impossible for them to cover every bit of shore line at once,” Frank added, “especially at night when a dory could slip in. It might even be that the aliens swim the last half mile.”

  After Radley left, Frank and Joe talked over their next move. “I suggest that we use Miss Peregrine for a little sleuthing,” Frank said.

  “How?”

  “Let’s take the falcon out to the Morton farm and have George Simons meet us there with his copter. It’s a shorter drive for us there than to the airport and maybe Chet would like to go along. We’ll go up in the chopper and keep watch for a pigeon coming from the ocean and heading southwest. If we spot one, we’ll follow it until the bird starts down to its cote. Then we’ll turn the falcon loose and let her trail the pigeon right to its cote. That way we ought to be able to intercept any message it may be carrying.”

  “You mean we’ll kill two clues with one bird?” Joe grinned.

  Frank first phoned Chet, who said, “Count me in. I sure would like to go along.”

  Then Frank called George Simons, who agreed to meet them at the farm in half an hour. Joe got the hawk’s equipment, hooded and wristed her, and the boys drove off. When they reached the farm, the helicopter was already settling in an open area behind the barn. The boys headed for it to tell Simons their plan.

  Chet, seeing them from the kitchen window, came outside and followed them. As he ambled past a corner of the barn, a masked figure moved up behind him. Chet’s arms were pinned behind his back and a hand was clamped over his mouth!

  In a low, fierce whisper, the masked man ordered, “Bring that falcon to your barn and leave it there. If you don’t, you and the Hardys will be in serious trouble! And don’t tell anyone why you’re doing it!”

  Desperately Chet squirmed and twisted in the grasp of his assailant but could not free himself!

  CHAPTER XI

  A Ruse

  THE masked man tightened his grip.

  “Listen, fat boy! Get that hawk if you value your life and the Hardys’!”

  “All right,” Chet finally said. “I’ll do it.”

  The masked man pushed Chet along until they were close to a small door in the barn. Then he turned him loose and darted into the darkness of the barn, closing the door behind him.

  Chet walked toward the Hardys with trembling legs. As Frank and Joe explained their plans to Simons, Chet interrupted, saying:

  “Sounds swell. M-mind if I hold the f-falcon on the trip?”

  “But the bird isn’t accustomed to you,” Frank said. “She wouldn’t respond to your commands.”

  “Well, can’t I at least h-hold her until you s-spot the pigeon?” Chet pleaded.

  Frank and Joe exchanged puzzled glances. They both sensed something was wrong with Chet, for he was not usually so nervous.

  “That wouldn’t work too well, either,” Frank told him.

  Chet cast an anxious glance over his shoulder in the direction of the barn, then stared at the hooded falcon. She was standing quietly on Joe’s gauntlet. He was checking the jesses to make certain that they were firmly fastened to the bird’s legs. Then he unsnapped the swivel hook, so that he could release the falcon quickly.

  Suddenly Chet dived at Joe and grabbed for the bird! With a startled cry Joe stepped back and the falcon flapped her wings to hold her balance.

  Frank clutched the stout boy’s arm. “What’s wrong with you, Chet? You act as though you’re crazy! This bird can be ruined if she’s disturbed. You mustn’t make a pass at her like that! Move gently and slowly or she will bate off the hand.”

  Finally Chet decided the Hardys must be told about the threat. He glanced again at the barn, then said in a hoarse whisper:

  “L-listen, fellows. A masked man stopped me at the barn a couple of minutes ago and ordered me to get the falcon from you. He told me to leave it inside the barn. If I don’t, your lives and mine won’t be worth a nickel!”

  Simons, who had heard Chet’s explanation, leaned out of the cockpit in amazement and said:

  “Trouble! Can I help?”

  Frank and Joe were grim, realizing that the only way out was through a ruse.

  “You sure can,” Frank told the pilot. “We’ll give the hawk to Chet. He can take his time about getting it to the barn. In the meantime, Joe and I will pretend we’ve gone off with you in the copter, but we’ll sneak out the other side, double back, and try to nab this guy and anyone who might be with him.”

  Joe helped Chet put the gauntlet on. Then he switched the falcon to the youth’s wrist and handed him the end of the leash. In a loud voice he called “Good luck!” as though Chet had asked to borrow the hawk for an afternoon’s hunting.

  Simons jumped to the ground and the Hardys entered the passenger compartment. Then, while Chet and the pilot stood close together beside the helicopter to cut off any view from underneath the craft, Frank and Joe quickly slipped out the far side and took cover in back of some bushes. From there they made their way toward the barn as the copter rose and headed toward the woods.

  Chet, who had started for the barn, was having trouble with the falcon. She bobbed up and down on his wrist, turned toward the throbbing sound of the rotors on the helicopter, and flew out to the end of the leash several times.

  Chet, however, managed to get her to the barn. He rolled open the big door and placed the bird inside.

  “Pretty rough on the hawk,” Frank whispered to Joe. “But I guess Chet is scared plenty, too.”

  The frightened boy turned and hurried to the house. After he had climbed the rear steps and slammed the kitchen screen door behind him, the masked man slipped furtively out of the barn with the hawk under one arm.

  Instantly the Hardys were upon him, and at a shrill whistle from Joe, Chet dashed back on the double. As Joe took the hawk, Frank pinned the prisoner to the ground and ripped off his mask.

  Ragu! The first mate from the Daisy K stared insolently at the boys.

  “Well,” said Frank grimly as he let the sailor up but kept hold of him, “suppose you talk.”

  “You threatened me and the Hardys,” Chet growled.

  “That was just to make you get the hawk,” Ragu answered. He watched Joe sullenly as he took the gauntlet from Chet and wristed the falcon.

  “I know someone who will pay me well for a trained bird,” Ragu went on.

  “You’ll have to give a better reason than th
at,” Frank told him. “How did you know we would have the falcon out here?”

  “I—I was hiding in your back yard this afternoon and overheard you making plans to bring the hawk here.”

  “Keep talking,” said Joe.

  “I’ve told you all I know,” the sailor insisted.

  “It will go easier with you if you tell the truth,” Frank said. “What do you know about the smuggling and kidnapping rackets around here?”

  Ragu winced but remained silent. Joe burst out, “I’m sure you can tell plenty about Captain Flont and the Daisy K.”

  The sailor’s muscles twitched nervously. “Let me go!” he shouted. “I don’t know anything.”

  The boys marched the man to the kitchen porch. Frank and Joe kept a close watch on him while Chet went to phone Chief Collig.

  “Tell him,” Frank said, “that we have a prisoner for him. He can book Ragu for assault on you today and Joe the other day, and attempts to steal the falcon.”

  The group waited until they saw the Bayport patrol car turning into the Morton driveway. Then, with Frank and Chet holding the sailor firmly by the arms, they started toward the police car.

  Chief Collig and Patrolman Smuff climbed out. As they eyed the hawk, Frank explained the circumstances of the capture, and told Smuff that Ragu was the thief they had been looking for.

  Before Smuff or the chief had a chance to comment, Frank suddenly cried out:

  “Joe, there’s a pigeon! It’s winging from the same direction as the other ones we’ve spotted. Let the hawk loose!”

  Hearing this, Ragu began to cry out oaths in his native language. The Hardys were sure he must know that the pigeon was carrying a message or more rubies!

  Joe unhooded the falcon. She spotted the pigeon, took off into the air, and climbed toward it.

  “Chief, I’m sure Ragu is guilty of a lot more than he’s admitting,” Joe said.

  “It seems that way,” the officer said.

  “We’ll be in to prefer charges against him sometime tonight,” Frank said.

  “Good enough,” Chief Collig agreed.

  Smuff hustled Ragu into the patrol car and the three rode away.

  The boys, shading their eyes, were following the flight of the bird. The peregrine and its prey had moved off over the wooded area and a moment later the pigeon was lost to view.

  The Hardys’ hearts sank. Had the bird escaped?

  CHAPTER XII

  Intercepted Ransom

  “THE hawk mustn’t lose that pigeon!” Joe cried.

  As the boys watched tensely, the peregrine poised for a second, then dived like a miniature rocket. Frank, Joe, and Chet ran across the fields, their eyes still following the hawk.

  Suddenly, through a rift in the trees, they could see both birds.

  “The hawk’s got it!” Frank exclaimed a moment later as the two birds dropped into the woods.

  “Come on!” Joe shouted, starting to run.

  When the boys did not immediately find the spot where the pigeon and the hawk had fallen, they spread out and searched the bushes for some time, but without success.

  “Your falcon’s got to be here some place,” Chet said.

  Just then they heard the whirring of the helicopter and hurried to a clearing, where they could spot the aircraft. They saw Simons beckon them to follow him.

  The boys nodded and moved along the edge of the woods, guided by their friend in the sky. Presently he turned the craft and flew directly over the trees. Now Simons whirled up, then lowered quickly.

  Frank interpreted the maneuver. “He’s trying to tell us the birds are right around here.”

  Joe held out his gloved hand and whistled sharply. There was a movement in the brush a few yards ahead of the boys. Then they spotted the peregrine falcon and her quarry.

  The younger Hardy moved in slowly and picked up the falcon and the mangled pigeon.

  “This time she earned a meal,” Joe said, spotting a telltale red container fastened to one of the pigeon’s legs.

  Frank removed the capsule and opened it. As he shook it gently, two rubies fell out.

  “More of the ransom gems!” he declared.

  Excitedly the trio ran toward the Morton farm. The helicopter was still hovering overhead when they came out into the clearing. Joe waved their thanks. Then the pilot headed for the airport to keep another appointment.

  When Frank and Joe reached their car they said good-by to Chet and drove home. After putting the falcon in the garage and setting the burglar alarm, the boys went into the house. A message was waiting for them to phone Jeff Kane. He had shadowed the captain and crew members of the Daisy K, and had investigated their reputations, but could find nothing suspicious in their activities. He learned that Captain Flont ruled them with an iron hand and they seemed to fear him.

  “If anything crooked is going on,” Frank said to Joe, “it’s well concealed, that’s for sure.”

  Joe put through another call to Rahmud Ghapur, who answered at once. When he told Mr. Ghapur that the Hardys had two important pieces of information for Mr. Delhi, the importer asked that Joe not reveal them on the phone.

  “I’ll pass along your message to Mr. Delhi,” Ghapur promised. “He’ll probably want to fly up to Bayport sometime tonight.”

  “We’ll be waiting for him.”

  The Indian arrived about eight o’clock, and he and the boys went to Mr. Hardy’s study.

  As Mr. Delhi settled himself in a chair, Frank unwrapped the two rubies and the ring, and explained how the Hardys had gotten them. Mr. Delhi examined them, then finally said:

  “I could almost swear that these are some of the ransom rubies. This poses a serious problem.”

  He looked from one boy to the other and they felt that something had displeased him. “I do not want to seem ungrateful,” Delhi said, “but if these are part of the ransom, and are not received by the fiends who are holding Tava, he may come to harm.”

  Frank and Joe were thunderstruck.

  “I’m afraid we didn’t realize that,” Frank replied. “But we may be close enough to these kidnappers to catch them before they attempt anything drastic.”

  The Hardys told Delhi about the goshawk and the hunting lodge in the woods and the possible flight of Tava with his captors.

  Then Frank showed him the sandalwood scent box that Ahmed had found at the lodge. Tenderly Delhi cupped the box in his hands.

  “My friends,” he said with emotion, “this box was given to Tava by his father at a ceremony I myself witnessed. May I keep it until Tava is found?”

  “Of course,” Frank replied.

  Delhi asked, “You have someone watching this hunting lodge at all times?”

  The Hardys reassured him on this point. Then they concluded with the story of the man who had purchased carrier pigeons from Mr. Newton under the name Bhagnav.

  “My real name!” Delhi exclaimed. “But not one of my relatives has ever been in this country.”

  “We thought he was an impostor,” Frank said.

  “What does this man look like?” Delhi asked.

  “We were told he is tall, slender, handsome— about twenty-five years old. He has a prominent scar on his chin.”

  As the Indian weighed this information, his brow furrowed. Then he said, “The description sounds vaguely familiar. I shall speak to Rahmud Ghapur about this. Perhaps he will recognize the man. In any case, I’m sure the impostor is an enemy.”

  Joe changed the subject. “Does the name Ragu mean anything to you?” he asked.

  Mr. Delhi thought this over, then said, “No. Can you describe him?” he asked.

  But the description of a swarthy, short, heavy-set man did not help.

  Frank said, “Ragu works here on a fishing boat called the Daisy K. Right now, though, he is in jail. We promised to go there tonight and prefer charges. Will you come with us and see if you know Ragu?”

  “I shall be glad to go,” he said. “But I suggest, in case we should be followed
, that we try to throw off any pursuers.”

  Driving to police headquarters, Frank took every precaution to be sure that no one trailed them.

  They learned, when they arrived, that Chief Collig was at home for a late dinner, but would return in a few minutes. The sergeant on duty assisted them in filing charges against Ragu. When the boys explained the reason for Mr. Delhi’s presence, he took the callers to the cell where Ragu was being held. On the way the sergeant said that the prisoner had been informed of his rights, had refused a lawyer, and had admitted nothing.

  When Ragu saw the Hardys he stared at them balefully. He was about to say something, but suddenly his glance rested upon Mr. Delhi. A look of awe and fright spread over his face and he staggered backward.

  “Mr. Bhagnav!” he cried.

  Mr. Delhi gazed at the prisoner, then said to the boys, “I do not know this man, but apparently he recognizes me from newspaper photographs or public functions.”

  Following up the advantage of the prisoner’s discomfiture, Frank asked him whether he was ready to talk. Ragu did not answer.

  Just then Collig arrived. After the police chief was introduced to Mr. Bhagnav, the boys turned the ransom rubies over to the officer for safekeeping.

  When Ragu saw the gems he gasped but made no comment. The police chief ordered the jailer to unlock the cell door. They all went inside. Forming an arc about the prisoner, they began to question him.

  Ragu remained defiant and uncooperative, but the Hardys felt he was almost frightened enough to make a full confession.

  Chief Collig asked him to explain the reasons for the attempted thefts of the falcon and the threats to Chet and the Hardys, then added, “And tell us all you know about the operations of the Daisy K.”

  Again the mention of Flont’s ship had a visible effect on the first mate. Eyes wide, he stared at Chief Collig for a long moment. Then, abruptly, his shoulders sagged and he looked at the floor.