They returned to Mrs. Jimerson and picked up the convertible. This time Chet rode with Paul and the Hardys stayed together. On the way to Hawk Head, Joe flicked on the radio and picked up a local news broadcast. The announcer sounded excited.
“Dr. Rideau’s coin vault was robbed last night of more than two hundred thousand dollars in valuable coins,” he said. “Local police have no clues to the thieves. They—”
Joe turned off the radio. “They did it!” he exclaimed hotly. “Pour it on, Frank!”
The car gathered speed in the race to Hawk Head.
CHAPTER XVII
A Telltale Cobweb
WHEN Frank reached the city limits of Hawk Head, he slowed down and motioned for Paul to come alongside. He told him of the radio report, then proceeded to the Rideau property.
A police car was at the curb in front of the house, and the chief and a lieutenant stood on the lawn discussing the case.
“Hi, Frank, Joe,” Chief White greeted them. “You fellows called the shot that time.”
The chief said he had several men inside dusting for fingerprints and making a search of every square inch of the Rideaus’ home.
“What time did it happen?” Frank asked.
“Don’t know. As you suggested, our patrol car passed the house every half hour during the night.”
“And saw nothing suspicious?” Joe asked.
“Not a thing. All was quiet, or so it seemed.”
“And the Rideaus,” Frank queried, “didn’t hear any noises?”
“They were out of town, visiting friends,” the police officer replied.
“What?” Joe was incredulous. “They left their coins unguarded?”
“The tenants were home,” the chief replied. “Of course the dogs are still at the vet’s.”
“Have you questioned the professors?” asked Paul.
“Certainly,” the chief replied. “We quizzed them first thing.” Paul was told that the two men had heard noises briefly. They had come down to check, but found nothing suspicious. “In fact,” Chief White said, “they suspect that the Indians did it.”
“Were they at home all night?” Frank asked.
“Correct. They never left the place.”
Frank noticed the clenched muscles in Paul’s jaw. “What makes them think the Indians pulled the job?” he snapped.
The chief put a hand in his pocket and pulled out a small mask. He held it up for Paul to see. “One of the profs found this near the back door when we were making the search.”
“That doesn’t prove a thing!” Paul protested bitterly.
Frank touched his arm. “Easy does it, Paul. We’ll get to the bottom of this!”
Just then Mrs. Rideau, having heard the boys’ voices, hastened from the house. She wrung her hands in agitation as she approached the Hardys. “We should have listened to you!” she kept repeating. “We should have hired a private policeman to stand guard at all times!”
“How’s the doctor?” Joe asked.
Mrs. Rideau said he was under sedation, lying on the sofa in the living room. “Our entire fortune is gone. It’s all gone!” she wailed.
“How did the thieves get into the vault?” Frank asked.
“It was pretty smooth,” White replied. “They used Dr. Rideau’s air drill to cut the locks. That way they didn’t have to carry any heavy equipment into the house.”
“What about fingerprints?” Chet asked.
“Negative. So far at least. Nobody’s prints except Dr. Rideau’s.”
Frank had to admit it was a clever scheme, but carrying off the heavy sacks of coins was another matter. “I have a hunch that the stuff is hidden right around here.”
“But we’ve searched everywhere,” Chief White said.
The Hardys, Chet, and Paul excused themselves and went into the house to see Dr. Rideau. He lay pale and still, shocked by the loss of his fortune built up during his long life.
Chet and Paul looked on sympathetically as Frank and Joe questioned Dr. Rideau. But he only repeated what he had already told the police. “The Indians must have done it,” he insisted. “They think I have Spoon Mouth!”
“Don’t worry, Doctor, your coins will be found,” Frank assured him. “Just be patient. We’re bound to come upon a clue somewhere!”
Paul grimly held his silence. He beckoned the boys outside and whispered, “That guy is crazy. The Indians wouldn’t take his coins. And if they did, what could they do with them?”
“Once a rumor gets started,” Frank said, “it’s hard to stop it. Somebody must have planted this one intentionally to build up a case against the Senecas.”
Frank walked up to Mrs. Rideau, who had just come outside. “By the way, was Elmont Chidsee in the house when it happened?”
“No. Only the professors,” she replied.
The Hardys exchanged glances. Was Elmont in on the whole thing or wasn’t he?
The four boys put their heads together. “I have a feeling that the loot is hidden in the barn,” Joe said. “Remember all that funny business going on there? Maybe the thieves were trying to scare us away for good.”
Chet nodded. “Let’s check it out.”
They walked quietly around the house, opened the barn door, and began to search. Not a shred of evidence was found.
Joe noticed a stubby broom and began to sweep away the straw near the place where Chet had slept. Maybe the stolen coins were underneath it.
“What are you doing?” the stout boy asked, walking over to him.
Crack! Crash!
Rotten floorboards gave away under their combined weight. The two landed hard on the earthen floor of an underground room!
Frank and Paul ran over and peered into the hole. “You went right through an old trap door!” Frank exclaimed. “I can see the outline now!”
“This might be the answer,” Joe said, “as to how the intruder got away after putting the mask on Chet.” He turned and called to Frank, “Pass me a flashlight, will you?”
Frank ran to the car and returned with a powerful light which he handed down to Joe. While the two boys above watched, Joe and Chet examined the pit carefully.
“Looks like an old root cellar to me,” Joe declared.
“Pretty spooky place,” Chet said. “I want to get out of here!”
“Oh, oh, Frank! Look at this!” Joe called out
“Did you find something?”
“Someone has been down here recently.” Joe’s light shone on a cobweb deep in a corner of the cellar. The symmetry of the fine strands had been broken. Then, on hands and knees, he and Chet made out the faint outlines of footprints on the dank floor.
The rotten floorboards gave way
“Maybe there’s an underground way out of this place!” Paul suggested.
Their sleuthing was suddenly interrupted by Chief White’s excited call from outside. “Frank and Joe Hardy!”
Paul and Frank pulled the other two from the root cellar and they hastened out of the barn. The chief beckoned from the house, and the boys ran over to him.
“What’s up?” Frank asked.
“We found the melted coins!”
“You mean Spoon Mouth?” Paul asked.
“That’s right.”
“Where was it?”
“In the back of Mrs. Rideau’s closet!”
CHAPTER XVIII
Smashed Evidence
EVERYONE was aghast over the discovery made by the Hawk Head police. Frank and Joe could not believe that the dentist had stolen the melted coins from the Senecas.
Paul Jimerson shook his head sadly. “There’s no telling what a man will do to get something he really wants,” he said. “But I still feel sorry for the old man.”
They all entered the living room to witness a strange scene. The doctor sat on the sofa, his head in his hands. His wife was daubing her eyes with a handkerchief while the chief stood over her, holding the melted coins.
The two professors, meanwhile, had come downstairs
. They were upbraiding the elderly couple. Mockton lectured them in his oily sonorous voice, and Glade, looking holier-than-thou, waggled his finger at Mrs. Rideau.
“What harm did the Indians ever do to you?” Glade asked. “Didn’t you know Old Spoon Mouth holds a special place in the life of their councils?”
“Stop it!” Dr. Rideau said and looked up pleadingly to the police chief. “I didn’t do it! My wife didn’t do it, either!”
“Then I suppose Spoon Mouth just walked into Mrs. Rideau’s closet,” Professor Mockton said. “I must say I didn’t realize it was all that valuable as a collector’s item.”
“It’s not!” Dr. Rideau exclaimed. “How could I expect to get rid of it anyway? It’s stolen goods!”
“You collectors have ways of doing things. You’re all in cahoots. All over the world!”
“Lay off, will you!” Chet growled. Like the Hardys, he hated to see the old couple being badgered.
Although Paul Jimerson was happy that his tribe’s heirloom had been recovered, he, too, felt sorry for them.
“Have the Rideaus been advised of their rights?” he asked.
“Yes,” Chief White replied.
“I don’t want any lawyer,” the doctor declared. “I’m not guilty of anything!”
“Well,” Mockton said stiffly to the boys, “if you’re so concerned about these criminals, that’s okay. But we’re moving out of this house!”
He went to the telephone, called a drive-it-yourself service, and asked for the use of a small truck. “We’ll be there shortly,” he said and hung up. Then he and his roommate strode out to their car and drove off.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to come down to headquarters with us,” Chief White said to the Rideaus.
They looked shocked and Frank spoke up quickly. “Chief, I just can’t believe that these people are guilty.”
The officer looked pained. “Neither can I!”
“They’ve been framed, I’ll bet,” Joe put in.
Frank requested the police to wait a little while before booking the couple. “Give us a few days and I feel sure we can get to the truth of the matter. The Rideaus won’t run away.”
“Of course we won’t,” the doctor spoke up. “I give you my word.”
The chief nodded. “Well, Henry, your word’s been good in this town for the last thirty years. I guess we can take it for a few more days.”
The Rideaus smiled in relief and thanked the officer and the boys. When the police had gone, they retired to their bedroom to rest.
Paul took the opportunity to telephone his brother Rod in Cleveland. He was not at home, but his landlady took the message. Paul told her to have Rod return immediately, so that the Indians could claim Spoon Mouth. “I’ll meet him at our mother’s house,” he said and hung up.
By the time they were all ready to leave for Yellow Springs, Mockton pulled up into the driveway with a small panel truck, marked U-Drive. Glade followed in their car.
“We’re going to get out of here just as soon as we can,” Mockton told the boys. “And my advice to you is this: have nothing to do with the Rideaus.”
“They were pretty nice to you,” Joe said tartly.
“That’s right,” Frank added. “You seemed to turn on them in an awful hurry.”
“You understand,” Glade said, mounting the front porch, “that we must protect our professional reputation.”
“Big deal,” Chet muttered as the professors disappeared into the house.
When Paul and the three boys arrived at Mrs. Jimerson’s place, the Indian woman insisted that they remain overnight. Paul broke out some sleeping bags and the tired young sleuths slept comfortable and deeply.
At midmorning a car pulled into the driveway, throwing up dust as the driver stopped short. Rod Jimerson jumped out, trotted to the front of the door, and entered.
“Hi, Mother. Hi, fellows!” he said. “I hear you found old Spoon Mouth!”
“Not us,” Frank replied. “The pplice did.”
When Rod was told all that had happened, he shook his head and looked sheepishly at the Hardys. “I was wrong about the whole deal. And I had been so positive, too. I guess I owe Lendo Wallace an apology.”
“Poor Lendo,” Chet spoke up. “He took a terrible beating.”
“And you know something?” Joe said. “That could hardly have been done by Dr. Rideau. We’re not to the bottom of this case yet!”
The Jimerson brothers talked quietly about what to do next. It was agreed that Rod should call a meeting of all members of the False Face Society. “We’ll form a delegation,” he said, “go to the police in Hawk Head, and claim Old Spoon Mouth!”
His mother beamed at the suggestion. “We’ll hold a ceremony and celebrate!” she said.
Frank, Joe, and Chet joined the two Senecas as they set out in the Hardys’ car to round up members of the society. Lendo Wallace was still too weak to attend.
Early in the afternoon six Indians of the False Face Society met at the Jimerson place. The Bayport boys joined the caravan of three cars which drove to Hawk Head and parked near police headquarters. Chief White was surprised to see them.
“We are going to celebrate the recovery of Spoon Mouth,” Rod Jimerson announced, “and we’ve come to claim our tribal property.”
“You can’t—at least not now.”
“Why not?” Rod asked.
“Because we need it as evidence in the trial of the Rideaus,” the chief replied.
The Senecas looked at one another, then huddled in whispered conversation. Finally Rod spoke up. “We’ll keep Spoon Mouth in our Council Offices, Chief. Any time you want to use the relic as evidence, we’ll bring it to court.”
“Can’t do that,” the officer said bluntly. “Rules are rules.”
A glimmer came into Rod Jimerson’s eyes. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said slowly. “By the way, Chief, I haven’t had a look at Spoon Mouth yet. It might have been damaged. Will you at least show it to me?”
“Of course,” White replied. He walked to a safe in his office and returned holding the gold relic in both hands.
With a lightning fast movement, Rod took the relic from the officer. The sudden move jerked it from his clutched hands. It flew into the air, landed on the floor, and broke into a hundred pieces!
With mixed looks of consternation and disbelief the boys, the Indians, and the law officers stared at the fragments.
“That’s not Spoon Mouth!” Paul Jimerson thundered. “It was a fake! A cast!” He bent down to scoop up some of the pieces.
The chief looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought we had the real thing!”
“What’d I tell you?” Chet said triumphantly. “The Rideaus are not guilty. Somebody planted the fake Spoon Mouth in their house!”
“I can see it all now,” the chief said. “Whoever stole the Rideaus’ collection did this to stall for time.”
Joe could keep quiet no longer. “And I think I know who it was—the professors!”
“Careful, Joe,” Frank warned. “Don’t accuse anyone without concrete evidence!”
The police chief said that no charges would be preferred against the Rideaus. “I suggest we go out immediately and tell them they have been exonerated.”
“That’s fine,” Frank agreed. “But they’re still stone-broke. We simply have to find the doctor’s coins!”
The Senecas offered to join the Hardys and Chet in a search for the loot. They all drove to the Rideaus’ place. Joe rode with the police chief and filled him in on their discovery of the root cellar and their suspicions of the professors.
When the Rideaus were told what had happened, they stared at each other in relief. But it took a while for the good news to sink in.
Finally Mrs. Rideau smiled wanly and said, “I told you so. The doctor and I wouldn’t steal anything!” Then she burst into tears.
The Hardys and Chet led the police and the Indians in a search of the barn. Frank and Joe dropped
down into the pit and surveyed every inch of the dank walls, while the Senecas scoured the outside. They were still looking for an opening when Paul Jimerson ran into the barn, poked his head down into the root cellar, and said, “We found a loose boulder outside behind the barn. It leads to a tunnel!”
Just then Frank and Joe heard thumping beneath their feet. Using their hands, they quickly scraped aside some dirt, found a ring in a wooden trap door, and pulled it up.
About five feet below them crouched Rod Jimerson and two other Senecas. They had gone into the tunnel, which connected the root cellar to the outside!
“That’s how the thieves got out with the loot!” Rod declared.
“What do you mean?” Joe asked. “There wasn’t any loot in here, so far as we could see.”
“It was stored in the tunnel. Look at this!” Rod held up a roll of coins in his right hand.
CHAPTER XIX
Lendo’s Dilemma
“So the profs hid the coins in the tunnel. Probably they waited until after dark, when nobody was here but the Rideaus, then drove their rented truck around to the back of the barn and loaded up! ”Joe concluded.
“Moving out gave them a good excuse for hiring the truck,” Chet remarked.
“At the time I thought it seemed odd,” said Frank, “but I assumed the profs had a lot of books and other stuff to cart off.”
Frank and Joe scrambled out of the root cellar and showed their find to Chief White and his men, who were standing outside the barn. He agreed with their theory.
“It was an inside job, all right,” he said. “The use of that tunnel convinces me of it!”
He went into the house, telephoned the U-Drive company, and after a short conversation with them had an alarm sent out for the truck.
Frank glanced at his watch. “I’d like to talk to the manager of that outfit personally,” he said. “Maybe we’ll catch him before closing time if we run over there right away.”
“Good idea,” the chief agreed. “Let me know if you pick up anything of interest.”
Frank, Joe, and Chet said good-by to the rest of the search party and drove to the rental agency. It was located at the front of a large garage. The manager was young and cordial.
The Melted Coins Page 10
