The boys entered the office and laid the sample case on the man’s desk. “We thought you’d like to have this back,” Frank said. “It must be valuable.”
Jervis opened the kit. “This doesn’t belong to us,” he said.
“Mr. Horgan, who used it, claimed to be a representative of Associated Jewelers,” Joe said.
Jervis remained cool. “We have been bothered by impostors lately,” he said. “Trying to use our good name.”
“And you don’t try to sell Hong Kong tailored suits, either?” Frank said.
Jervis’s mouth twitched a little. “Of course not. And now, get lost. I’m busy!”
As the boys walked out they could hear him grab the telephone off the cradle.
“Somebody’s going to catch it!” Joe said with a grin.
“Tsk, tsk. Poor old Horgan,” Frank said in mock sympathy as they drove home.
During lunch Chief Collig phoned. “Horgan is an alias,” he reported. “The man’s real name is Gerard Henry. He has a long record of petty crime.”
“I had a hunch he wasn’t on the level,” Frank said, and told about their visit to Jervis. “We’d like to stake out his place,” he concluded.
“There’s an old building across the street where we could set up some cameras.”
“Just be careful,” the chief warned. “The place is unsafe. Also, we flush out vagrants now and then. Mostly junkies. They stay there at night.”
“We’ll watch out,” Frank promised. “Thanks for your help, Chief.”
The boys told their father the latest news and that they were planning to set up surveillance equipment.
“We’d like to start right away,” Frank said, “but we have an appointment with Krassner this afternoon.”
“I can’t pitch in, either,” Mr. Hardy said. “I have a meeting. But maybe Sam Radley could help us out.”
A telephone call brought the detective’s sandy-haired operative to the Hardy home. He agreed to begin surveillance immediately.
Frank and Joe loaded film into a movie camera and a still camera with a telescopic lens. They also brought a two-way radio and a folding chair and drove off with Sam.
They parked on a street behind the old building and worked their way through an alley to the rear entrance.
“This place certainly is in bad shape,” Sam commented as they entered a broken door leading to a flight of badly tilted stairs.
“It even smells rotten,” Joe said, sniffing the musty odor of the interior.
They climbed to the third floor and saw no sign of habitation. Sam checked all the windows until he found a suitable spot. “How about right here?” he suggested.
The boys set up the cameras on tripods and focused clearly on the entrance to the Associated Jewelers office.
“If anyone goes in or leaves, take his picture,” Frank said. “We’ll join you later.”
“Okay.” Radley adjusted the folding chair and waved to the boys as they made their way downstairs and out the back.
When the young sleuths arrived at the balloon club, Krassner and Chet were already there.
“Frank, Joe I’m glad you came,” Krassner greeted them.
“You’re looking great today,” Frank said.
“That’s the way it is. These attacks knock me out for a couple of days, but I bounce right back.”
“We thought that snake balloon got you upset,” Joe said.
Krassner smiled. “Oh no. That was nothing.”
Frank said, “We noticed a similarity in the balloon design and the serpent figure on your vase.”
“You mean the one in the hall?”
“That’s the one.”
“Oh yes. Antique Chinese. They used that pattern a lot Well, Fearless is going to inflate his father’s balloon. Chet, why don’t you see if he needs help?”
“Sure thing,” Chet replied, and hurried out to the grassy clearing.
Turning to the Hardys, Krassner said, “I want to talk to you alone about my problem. And I don’t want to go to the police. Once the newspapers get wind of a thing like this, there’s a lot of publicity, even notoriety. And in the investment business—well, you know how it is.”
“Just what is the trouble?” Frank asked.
“My life has been threatened,” Krassner said. “I’ll be killed unless I hand over the Ruby King!”
CHAPTER VII
Aerial Surprise
“THE Ruby King? What’s that?” Frank asked.
“A fabulous chess piece,” Krassner replied. “A beautiful work of art made centuries ago in China. It is decorated with Burmese rubies and was part of a set made for an ancient warlord.”
“Where are the other pieces?” Joe asked.
“Gone. Vanished in the mists of antiquity,” Krassner said poetically. “That’s one of the reasons why the Ruby King is so valuable.”
“And you’re in possession of it?” Frank queried.
“Yes. But it’s not really mine.” Krassner explained that he was part of a consortium of wealthy chess enthusiasts who had purchased it in China.
“We’re going to present it to the winner of the world chess championship. Meanwhile, the prize is in my safe.”
Frank and Joe knew about the match, which was to take place in Hong Kong the following month. It would pit the United States champion, Conrad Greene, against the Oriental title holder, a Korean named Chan Loo Duc.
Was there a connection between the valuable Ruby King and the intended wiretap on Greene’s telephone? Obviously someone wanted the chess piece badly.
“Isn’t your safe a rather vulnerable place?” Frank asked. “I think a bank vault would be better.”
“My safe is very strong,” Krassner replied. “Now I want you to keep our conversation in confidence. The whereabouts of the Ruby King is known only to a few people.”
“Whoever threatened you must have found out,” Joe said.
“That’s what worries me. I want both of you to be on call in case of emergency.”
Frank felt an uneasy suspicion about the man. Why would a rich banker ask the Hardys to shield him when he could well afford to hire an entire protection service? He put the question to Krassner.
“I’ll tell you why,” Krassner replied. “Life would be unbearable with an army of bodyguards. The press would be on my back with all kinds of speculations and innuendos.” He stopped and smiled. “Besides, Chet Morton tells me you have never failed to carry out your assignments to the fullest satisfaction of your clients.”
“You flatter us,” Joe said with an embarrassed grin. “We’ll do all we can to help you.”
“But first,” Frank added, “we’d like to see the Ruby King.”
“Yes, I’ll have you over the house soon. Here comes Chet.”
The husky boy strode purposefully over to the three. “How about some ballooning today, Mr. Krassner?” he asked.
“That was my plan.”
“Great. You can take Frank and Joe, and I’ll go with Fearless.”
“That’ll be keen,” Joe said.
“You’ve never been up before?” Krassner asked.
“Only in airplanes,” Frank replied. Both Hardys were experienced pilots and often flew a plane which their father kept at Bayport Airport.
“I’m sure you’ll like this kind of flying,” Krassner said. “Come on. Let’s get ready.”
Everybody helped with the preparations. Krassner telephoned for two pickup trucks while the boys inflated the envelopes. People from the surrounding farms gathered to watch the spectacle of a twin ascension.
“They can hold the ground ropes for us,” Fearless said. “It’s a great sport.”
Between bursts of hot air from the burners, the boys discussed ballooning. Chet proved to be a competent historian on the sport. He said two Frenchmen, the Montgolfier brothers, made the balloon used in the first recorded human flight over Paris. The year was 1783.
“Aeronauts have had plenty of adventures since then,” Chet said. “
Did you know that Napoleon used balloons to spy on the enemy? They were popular in the Civil War, too. And then there was a guy named Andrée who tried to fly over the North Pole in a giant balloon.”
“Did he make it?” Joe asked.
Chet shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not.”
“All right, men,” Krassner called out. “We’re nearly ready.” He and Fearless checked their radios and altimeters. The pyrometers, which measured the heat in the bags, were in working order. So were the variometers, needed to tell the rate of climb.
Just then the two pickup trucks arrived. The crowd cheered as the five stepped into the baskets. They held on tightly to the ground ropes until Fearless bellowed, “Hands off!”
Up went the two craft in perfect weather conditions. There was hardly any wind and a clear blue sky. The huge license numbers on the rounded sides stood out brightly in the late-afternoon sunshine.
Standing beside Krassner, Frank felt an exhilaration unlike anything he had experienced in an airplane. As the ground fell away beneath them in silence, the boy was engulfed in an unreal feeling of total peace.
Below, the waving spectators grew smaller, and the pickup trucks set off on the road, as a gentle fluff of wind sent the balloons on their way.
Krassner and the Hardys watched the other craft behind them as they drifted higher and higher. A farm slid past below them and three dogs looked up and barked furiously. Frank was surprised he could hear them so far off.
“Enjoying yourself?” Krassner asked. He picked up binoculars and scanned the countryside.
“I never had such a good time in my life!” Joe said enthusiastically. “Thanks a million for the ride.”
“Don’t mention it.” Krassner’s face looked serene. “Ballooning takes you away from all the world’s troubles.”
But the flight did not lull Frank’s mind. It kept working to find the missing links in the puzzle. Was the Ruby King contraband—perhaps stolen in China? Was that the reason Krassner had shunned the police?
As they sailed on silently, the Hardys studied the uninhabited woodland carefully. It was not at all like the view from a fast-flying airplane. Suddenly Frank heard the radio crackle:
“Frank, this is Chet. Do you read me?”
“Roger. What a swell ride!”
“Listen. There’s another balloon.”
“Where?”
“At three o’clock.”
Frank turned around. “I see it.”
“Look close,” Chet advised, and Frank asked Krassner for the glasses. He trained them on the third craft. It was the serpent balloon!
Frank told Krassner, and his face again showed tension and fear.
Chet’s voice sounded once more. “Keep an eye on the snake. It’s armed!”
Frank focused the binoculars on the other gondola. Three men were in it and one had a rifle. There was a muzzle flash, then a bullet whistled over them.
“They’re firing at us!” Krassner screamed.
“Duck!” Joe ordered, “and let’s land as fast as possible!”
Frank radioed to Chet, “We’re descending. Better come with us.”
“Roger.”
Krassner had regained his composure, and Frank admired his airmanship. The man pulled open the vent and the craft sank rapidly. Three more shots sounded in the distance, but Krassner’s fast-moving balloon made a difficult target. However, two slugs ripped through the balloon.
The wind freshened and the sinking balloon picked up speed. Frank saw that Krassner was heading for a small farm at the edge of the woods. There was a level, cleared area bordered on one side by a pond, on the other by an electric power line.
Fearless and Chet were close behind, but the serpent balloon made no attempt to follow them down. As their attackers flew out of sight, Frank talked to Chet again.
“Did you get a look at the snake’s license number?”
“Affirmative. But Fearless says it’s a phony. And listen to this. The snake has a little propeller, probably battery driven. That’s how it caught up with us.”
“The police should be notified.”
“I’ve already done that,” Chet said. “Called the pickup trucks and told them to phone the State Police.”
“Good thinking. We’re landing now. See you later.”
Krassner maneuvered the craft toward the middle of the field while the farm children ran out of the house to witness the descent. The electric wires seemed a safe distance to their left and the pond far enough to the right.
“You’re a great pilot, Mr. Krassner,” Joe said tersely.
“We’re not down yet—Oh, oh, trouble!”
An errant gust hit the balloon, carrying it toward the power lines. Frank and Joe were gripped by a sickening feeling as the metal wires loomed ominously closer.
“The blast valve!” Krassner shouted. “It’s over your head, Joe. Pull it!”
Joe reached up and grasped the lever, sending hissing flame into the envelope. Nothing happened.
“It’s not working!” Frank cried out.
“It will in time,” Krassner said. “At least I hope so!”
Several seconds passed, then all at once the balloon lifted. The gondola cleared the power lines with two feet to spare!
Krassner looked limp and Frank let out a sigh of relief.
Joe shook his head. “We almost got fried!” he said.
The balloon dropped down once more and landed beside the farmhouse.
In their excitement the Hardys had paid no attention to how Fearless and Chet were faring. Now they jumped out of the basket, with Krassner on their heels, and ran to avoid the collapsing envelope.
Only then did they notice the other balloon. It was descending rapidly over the pond.
Splash!
Chet and Fearless hit the water like home-coming astronauts!
CHAPTER VIII
A Tough Break
FRANK and Joe raced toward the pond, followed by a farm boy and his two sisters dressed in Levis. When they reached the water’s edge, Fearless was splashing toward shore.
“Where’s Chet?” Frank yelled.
Fearless glanced back, reversed his course, and swam furiously to the spot where the basket had sunk. The Hardys dived in at the same time and with powerful crawl strokes reached it seconds later. They gulped in deep breaths of air and aimed for the bottom.
Meanwhile the three youngsters ran for their rowboat which was tied to a small dock.
“Jenny, Wendy,” the boy shouted, “if we get the balloon out, maybe we can keep it!”
“Don’t be silly, Kurt,” the elder girl said as they pushed the boat into the pond. “Come on, Wendy, we’ll row.”
In the clear water, Frank and Joe saw Fearless trying to free Chet’s foot which had become entangled in the coil of rope lashed to the side of the gondola. Frank helped give a final tug, and Chet, nearly unconscious, was whisked to the surface.
He was quickly towed ashore and pulled up onto the grass, where he lay gasping.
“You took in a lot of water,” Frank said. “Just lie still for a while.”
In the confusion of the rescue, no one had paid any attention to Krassner. Suddenly they heard a feeble call. “A pill! Give me a pill!”
Joe ran to the man, who was lying helpless on his back and quickly gave him the medicine. Minutes later Krassner sat up shakily. “Someone’s out to get me!” he moaned. “My heart can’t take this terror much longer!”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Krassner,” Joe said. “We’ll get to the bottom of this whole thing yet.”
While the farm children were busy retrieving the sunken gondola and the deflated envelope, the balloonists talked about their scary adventure. Joe was of the opinion that the serpent gang was only out to frighten Krassner.
“With a telescopic sight they couldn’t have missed,” he reasoned. “Besides, they didn’t bother to pursue us any farther when we descended.”
“You may be right,” Frank said.
Krassner turned the situation into a feeble jest. “Well, if they tried to scare me, they certainly succeeded.”
“But why, Mr. Krassner?” Fearless asked. “What do these men have against you?”
Krassner avoided answering the question, and the boys busied themselves with the balloons. First they folded up Krassner’s craft, then set about to help Jenny, Wendy, and Kurt drag the other one up onto the shore.
“I haven’t seen your mom and dad,” Joe said.
“They’re in town with the truck,” Kurt said. “Wow, wait till they hear what happened. Are finders keepers?” he added mischievously.
“Hey, this is no toy!” Fearless chuckled. “But for a reward, how would you like a ride some time next week?”
“Oh, that’d be great!” Wendy’s eyes sparkled.
“Look, here come the State Police,” Jenny declared.
Two squad cars drove right up to the pond, and a pair of uniformed officers plied the balloonists with questions about the mid-air assault. During the interrogation, the farm children said they had noticed the weird serpent balloon about four or five times in the past month.
But no one could shed any light on its owners, or why they had shot at Krassner. The man himself made no mention of the Ruby King.
A few minutes later the pickup trucks appeared and the equipment was loaded. It was dusk when they reached the balloon club, where the gear was stowed away.
“So long, everybody,” Joe said as he and Frank went to their car.
“I’m going to your house first,” Chet said. “I want to be in on the rap session with your dad.”
“You ought to go home and hit the sack,” Joe advised. “You’ve had quite a day.”
“No, really, I feel fine now. I’ll phone my folks so they won’t worry.”
Chet followed the Hardys to their house. When the two cars pulled into the driveway, Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude ran out to meet them.
“You had us worried to death!” Mrs. Hardy said. “We heard a radio report that several bal loonists had an aerial war!”
“You were in it—yes you were!” Aunt Gertrude stared at them piercingly, then shook a skinny finger. “Now tell us all about it!”
“I guess the State Police released the news,” Frank said and reported what happened. “Where’s Dad?” he added.
The Clue of the Hissing Serpent Page 4
