“Possibly,” Frank agreed. “Then again, it might all be part of a clever plan to throw us off the track.”
The boys decided to demand a chance to inspect the films. As they entered the shop, Mr. Freeman turned to them with an air of relief.
“This is Mr. R. C. Williams,” he said, indicating his customer. Then he turned back to the man. “These boys believe that at least some of these pictures belong to them.”
“What!” shouted Williams. “That’s crazy!”
“Then you won’t mind if we have a look at the prints,” Frank said politely.
“Touch my pictures,” Williams bellowed, “and I’ll sue every one of you!”
Mr. Freeman looked hesitant. He was thinking that perhaps the Hardys were being a bit hasty. At the thought of being involved in a lawsuit, he began to hedge.
“Maybe we have no right to ask Mr. Williams to—” he began.
“We’ll take the entire responsibility,” Frank interrupted. “Mr. Williams can show us the pictures himself. We won’t touch them.”
Williams protested strongly. But seeing that the boys were determined not to let him out of the shop without seeing the pictures, he ripped open the big envelope, peered in, selected a few prints, and scattered them on the counter. None of the pictures belonged to the Hardys, they admitted.
“There!” Williams sneered. “You see? You guys ought to be thrown in jail!”
He quickly gathered up the prints and stuffed them back into the envelope.
“How much do I owe you?” he snapped at Mr. Freeman.
“Just a minute!” Frank said coldly. “We want to see all the pictures!”
“Get out of my way!” Williams shouted.
The shop owner, now more suspicious of Williams himself, offered to call the police. But at the word “police,” Williams paled.
“You won’t have to do that!” he blurted. Reluctantly he reached into the package and displayed several more prints.
“I said we want to see all of them!” Frank demanded.
“That’s all there are,” Williams insisted.
Joe reached out and seized the envelope. Shaking it vigorously, he spilled more prints onto the counter. The boys were elated to find that their suspicions were justified. Among the pictures were several aerial views they had taken!
Suddenly Williams let fly with his fists. He caught Mr. Freeman under the chin, and the shop owner slumped down behind the counter. Williams then whirled around and rushed the boys with his head down and arms flailing.
Frank and Joe, taken off guard, skidded on the highly polished floor and went down. Williams grabbed the pictures in his large fist and crammed them hastily into a pocket.
As the boys sprang to their feet, they saw Williams fleeing toward the rear exit of the shop!
CHAPTER XI
A Questionable Friend
FRANK and Joe darted after Williams and succeeded in intercepting him before he reached the rear exit. A wild struggle followed.
The boys and their burly opponent crashed to the floor in a mass of entangled arms and legs. Mr. Freeman, having recovered from the blow he had received, rushed over to give his support. Williams was exceptionally strong, but three against one was too much for him.
“That’s enough!” he panted. “Don’t hit me again!” He dropped and lay on the floor like a whipped dog.
“You’d better do some explaining!” Frank said angrily as he and Joe stood up and brushed off their clothing.
Joe grabbed the envelope and extracted several pictures. “The aerial shots!” he exclaimed, and handed them to his brother.
“I’ve nothing to say.” growled Williams, trying to catch his breath. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair.
“Who stole our camera and films?” Frank demanded, glaring at their captive.
“I don’t know about anything being stolen!” Williams insisted.
“Okay! Have it your way!” Frank declared. “Maybe you’d rather talk to the police!” The young sleuth walked to the telephone and began dialing a number.
Williams turned pale. “No! Wait!” he pleaded. “I’ll tell you all I know! Honest I will. Don’t call them!”
Frank put down the phone. “Go ahead!” he ordered.
“My name isn’t Williams. It’s Richard Tyson,” the man said, taking out his wallet. He displayed his driver’s license and a few credit cards.
The boys examined the cards and found the man’s address was the same as that of the apartment house in which Lieber lived.
“Then who is Williams?” Frank asked.
“Williams rents a room across the hall from my apartment,” Tyson answered. “Early this morning he asked me if I would pick up his pictures when they were ready. He told me to use his name.
“He explained that the pictures were confidential and not to let anyone see them. I’m sorry now I ever agreed to do it. I should have suspected something phony.” He got to his feet, brushed himself off, and looked at the boys nervously. “I’d like to leave,” he said, moving toward the door.
“Not until you tell us everything,” said Frank. “Who stole our camera?”
“I told you I don’t know.”
“Does Williams live alone?”
“No, he rents the room from Mr. and Mrs. Lieber. The Liebers seem like nice people. I think Williams is Mrs. Lieber’s brother.”
The Hardys did not disclose that Mr. Lieber was already one of their strong suspects in the case.
“Well,” Frank announced, “you can leave, but we’re going with you to your apartment. We want to check your story.”
“By all means! Come along!” Tyson urged. He seemed eager for a chance to prove his innocence.
Frank asked Mr. Freeman to put the aerial pictures in his safe until the boys called for them. “We don’t want to risk their being stolen again.”
The brothers took Tyson with them, explaining that they would bring him back later to pick up his own car. As they drove, Tyson volunteered the information that Lieber was an airplane mechanic and stand-by copilot. As a result, he was away a lot. In fact, he often slept at the airport.
In a short time the group arrived at the apartment house. Tyson unlocked the main door with his own key. As they climbed the stairs, Frank said that he would like to find out whether Lieber was at home.
Tyson pointed to the door of the man’s apartment and Frank knocked. The door opened, revealing a stocky, handsome woman, with a tremendous amount of blond hair.
“Hello, Mr. Tyson,” she said, seeing her neighbor.
“Is Mr. Lieber at home?” Frank inquired.
“No,” she responded. “My husband has to fly very early tomorrow, so he decided to stay overnight at the airport.”
“Is Mr. Williams at home?” Joe asked.
“He’s not here, either,” the woman said. “Is it anything important? Can I take a message?”
“No, thank you.”
Mrs. Lieber eased the door shut. Tyson led the Hardys to his apartment across the hall. There they met Mrs. Tyson, a short, middle-aged woman. She invited them to come in.
Frank casually conversed with her, selecting his words in such a way that the woman was not aware that he was probing for information. She told the young sleuth that Mrs. Lieber was a very secretive person who seemed extremely frightened of her husband.
“She tries to forget her worries,” Mrs. Tyson said confidingly, “by always going to the movies and to parties. Poor thing. The Liebers never have any company.”
Momentarily satisfied with Tyson’s story, the Hardys drove the man back to the camera shop to pick up his car. He said little more to shed any new light on the mystery and was obviously relieved when the boys drove off.
When they reached home, Frank and Joe discussed the information they had gathered that day. “I’m convinced,” said Frank, “that Lieber and this Williams are mixed up in the Stanwide case.”
“So far, nearly all our suspects are company employees,” Joe co
mmented. “How does this fellow Williams figure in?”
“It’s possible that he’s part of the racket, but working from the outside,” Frank suggested.
The boys recalled Jerry Madden’s remark about Lieber’s being Peterson’s pal. They wondered if this meant that the chief pilot himself was involved in the thefts.
“And it doesn’t surprise me that Art Rodax fits into the picture,” said Joe. “I knew he had a secret reason for not wanting us around the plant.”
At that moment the telephone rang. The caller was Randy Watson. The pilot said that he had managed to rent an aircraft suitable for a long-distance flight from an operator at Lockwood Airport. This field was about two hundred miles from Bayport.
“I’ve already been there and flown the plane back,” he said. “She checks out fine. We’ll be ready to roll any time in the morning.”
“Good,” Frank answered. “Joe and I will be at the airport early. We can’t risk missing Peterson and Lieber’s departure.”
At dinner the boys packed some light luggage. Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude tried to hide their anxiety when they heard the coming flight was to trail Peterson and Lieber, but an expression of concern crossed Mrs. Hardy’s face.
“Don’t take any unnecessary chances,” she begged. “And keep in constant touch with us.”
Frank and Joe promised to do this. They assured the women that the trip was only routine, and that they would be away not more than two or three days.
“Two or three days!” Aunt Gertrude exclaimed. “If you catch those thieves the first day, why can’t you come home? That’s where you belong, anyway!”
The boys grinned and Joe said, “Why, Aunty, the longer the chase the more fun.”
“Fun nothing!” she stormed. “A lot of danger—unnecessary danger for a couple of growing boys!” Miss Hardy’s tirade ended only because she was called to the telephone.
Mr. Hardy, on the other hand, made no objection to the trip. “Best of luck, boys,” he said.
The following morning the boys started for the airport as soon as dawn broke. When they arrived, the Hardys spotted a sleek, highly polished twin-engine turbo-prop plane parked on the Ace Air Service ramp.
“That must be the plane Randy rented!” Joe exclaimed, pointing. “My, what a beauty! Wish I could fly her!”
Frank grinned in anticipation. “It sure looks as if we won’t have any trouble keeping up with Peterson in that!”
The boys put down their bags and approached the plane for a closer look. Just then Randy Watson came running out of the operations building.
“Hey, fellows!” he shouted excitedly. “Come here, quick!”
The young detectives ran to meet him.
“What is it?” Frank called. “Something wrong?”
“I just tried to phone you at home,” Randy answered, “but you had already left. It’s about the Stanwide cargo plane!”
“What happened?” Joe asked.
“Peterson and Lieber left hours ago!” Randy said, trying to catch his breath. “They took off late last night!”
CHAPTER XII
The Cave Clue
THE Hardy boys wasted no time. Moments later, they were dashing up the circular stairs to the Bayport control tower.
“Is Lou Diamond here?” Frank asked as they burst into the room.
“No,” answered a lean, middle-aged man, who was seated at a desk. “The chief doesn’t come on duty for another hour yet.”
The brothers explained the situation to him and requested his help.
“I remember the Stanwide plane taking off,” the tower man recalled. “It departed soon after I came on duty.” He quickly checked through his listing of aircraft movements. “Here it is,” he said, pointing out a small card. “The plane took off shortly after midnight.”
“Did the pilot file a flight plan?” Frank questioned.
“Yes—an instrument flight plan to a field in California,” the operator responded. “I can’t tell you exactly, because normally we don’t keep a record of flight plans here in the tower.” He picked up a telephone and snapped a toggle switch mounted on the desk. “I’ll check with our communications station.”
It was several minutes before the operator received the information he requested. Then he placed the phone down and turned to the young sleuths. “The Stanwide pilot canceled his flight plan at Chicago,” he said. “After taking on fuel, he departed without filing a new flight plan.”
Frank and Joe were dismayed. After thanking the tower man for his help, they left hurriedly.
“I want to call Mr. Allen right away and let him know what happened,” Frank said.
Mr. Allen’s voice was heavy with sleep as he answered the telephone. When he heard the news, however, he snapped awake.
“What!” he exclaimed. “Peterson didn’t have authority to leave before the scheduled time. Meet me at the Stanwide hangar! I’ll be right over!”
The boys next called their father and informed him of the incident. Then they started walking toward the Stanwide hangar.
“Peterson and Lieber decided to vanish and keep everything for themselves,” Frank said. “That was a valuable load they were carrying. It could make them rich.”
“Peterson might also be trying to escape Clint Hill’s ghost,” Joe added.
Mr. Allen arrived at the hangar and was aghast at the situation. He immediately placed a long-distance call to the Sun-Plat Tool Company in California, which was supposed to receive the air shipment. An official there told him the cargo plane had not arrived at the nearby airport. He assured Mr. Allen he would notify him the instant any information concerning the flight was received.
Turning from the telephone, Mr. Allen said to the Hardys, “I don’t mind telling you I’m pretty worried about this whole thing.”
The boys followed him to Peterson’s office, which they thoroughly searched. In the top desk drawer, Frank discovered a notation stating that Mr. Allen had ordered an earlier departure.
“I never gave such an order!” the executive declared. The young sleuths noted that the notation was typed, making it difficult to identify the writer.
They next went with Mr. Allen to interrogate the night watchman, who said Peterson had told him nothing. “I thought it was a funny time for him to be taking off, but it’s not up to me to question the actions of our company’s chief pilot.”
“No, of course not,” said Mr. Allen.
Using a master key, he searched Lieber’s locker but found no clues. Frank suggested they check the bills of lading for the Sun-Plat shipment. They scrutinized the records for more than an hour, but the results gave no hint of any tampering.
“Well,” Frank said, sighing, “there’s nothing more we can do here.”
After assuring Mr. Allen they would continue tracking every possible lead locally, the Hardys returned to Randy.
“Sorry our flight has been grounded,” Joe said wryly.
“Too bad. Well, I’ll just return the plane,” the pilot replied philosophically. “I’ll be around if you fellows need me again—maybe next time we’ll have better luck.”
The boys, feeling somewhat let down, drove off. Frank suggested they go to the camera shop and examine the photographs Mr. Freeman was keeping for them.
“It’s a long shot,” he said, “but maybe those pictures will tell us something.”
The boys arrived just as Mr. Freeman was opening his shop. He went to the wall safe, opened it, and handed them the negatives and prints. Joe picked up a magnifying glass from the counter. Mr. Freeman handed Frank another.
Meticulously the Hardys studied each of the aerial photographs. Several minutes passed before Joe suddenly cried out, “Look at this!”
Frank took the print and peered at it through his glass. Joe pointed to the rectangular pasture over which they had flown low before the engine of their aircraft had failed. “What do you see in the pasture area?”
Frank moved his magnifying glass slowly for a better focus.
“I don’t notice anything special,” he announced. “Unless you mean those three parallel lines running through the center of the pasture. They appear to be ruts, or grooves.”
“Exactly!” Joe said. “What are they?”
“The lines could have been made by a three-wheeled farm tractor,” Frank answered.
“Or maybe a small airplane!” Joe suggested.
“I wonder,” said Frank, then added, “Randy Watson told us the pasture was too short for any airplane to operate out of.”
“I know. That’s what has me baffled.”
Mr. Freeman, who had been watching the boys with interest, began glancing at some of the photographs. He asked in what locality the pictures had been taken. When the Hardys told him, his face broke into a wide smile.
“I thought I recognized the area,” he remarked. “When I was a boy, spelunking was one of my favorite pastimes. I used to go there a lot.”
“Spelunking?” Frank asked curiously. “You mean you went exploring caves in that area?”
“Oh, yes,” Mr. Freeman answered, obviously pleased at recollecting some of his childhood activities. “There are several fine caves to be found in those hills. However, it’s been so many years since I was there, I wouldn’t be able to locate any of them now.”
“How large are the caves?” Frank asked, with increasing interest.
“The ones I explored were rather small,” the shop owner explained. “I promised my parents I wouldn’t tackle anything too deep. So I can’t say just how large the bigger caves are.”
The boys thanked Mr. Freeman for his help, then started for home. Both were excited at learning of caves being in the area where they had seen Bush Barney. Perhaps, they speculated, the thieves were using a cave to hide their loot!
“There might even be one near the pasture we flew over!” Joe exclaimed. “And if I’m right about the deep grooves having been made by the wheels of a small plane, maybe it’s possible the pasture is being utilized as a makeshift runway after all!”
“I have an idea!” said Frank. “Why don’t we rent a helicopter and get a really close look at that area? But first let’s go home and tell the folks about our change of plans.”
The Great Airport Mystery Page 6
