The Vanishing Thieves

by Franklin W. Dixon

  “Man overboard!” Red Sluice yelled. “Turn around!”

  As the boat began to circle, Anton grabbed a life preserver and tied a line to it. Frank and Chet swung their backs to each other again and Frank frantically picked at the knot binding Chet’s wrists. Anton and Red were too busy looking for Crafty over the side to notice.

  Frank loosened the knot and the rope fell away. Chet turned around and quickly untied Frank, while Red and Anton still hung over the railing, calling to their partner.

  “All right, Harry! Red shouted. ”Slow down!“

  Big Harry throttled the engine until the boat was barely moving, and Anton tossed the life preserver overboard. The man in the water grabbed it and Red began to reel in the rope.

  Frank whispered to Chet, “Body blocks. Pretend you’re on the football field.”

  Nodding, Chet crouched as though on the scrimmage line. Frank did the same.

  “One—two—three, hike!” Frank said.

  In unison they drove forward to throw body blocks into the men at the rail. Screaming loudly, both hoods went overboard to join Crafty Kraft in the water.

  “Untie Vern,” Frank said to Chet in a low voice, and headed for the bridge.

  Big Harry, with his back to the action, had not seen his companions go overboard, and the noise of the engine had drowned out the screams and splashes. He seemed to sense, however, that something was wrong, and looked over his shoulder just as Frank came up behind him. Releasing the wheel, he started to spin around, but Frank managed to land a karate chop at the base of his neck.

  Without making a sound, Big Harry pitched forward on his face, unconscious. Quickly the boy searched him for weapons. Finding none, Frank took the helm, while Vern and Chet stood at the rail, looking at the hoods in the water.

  “Tell them to hold on to the life preserver,” Frank called out. “We’ll be back for them after we look for Joe. ”

  While the crooks clung to the life ring, Frank steered the Sea Scorpion back into the sun, fervent ly hoping that Joe had been able to free himself with the wire cutters.

  A mile to the east Joe had stopped to rest for a time floating on his back.

  Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of something sliding past him in the water, but did not get a good enough look to identify what it was. Letting his feet down until he was treading water, he turned in the direction the thing had moved, but saw nothing marring the gently rolling surface of the water. He decided it must have been his imagination and started to swim toward the sun again.

  Then a movement to his left brought him to a halt. Treading water, he looked that way. A large gray fin broke the surface and swam widely around him.

  With his heart pounding, Joe watched the fin going around again, this time in a narrower circle. The shark had spotted him when it originally went by, and was now closing in.

  He submerged in order to get an underwater look at the beast. An enormous man-eating white shark over twenty feet long passed him no more than a dozen feet away.

  Surfacing, Joe watched as the great fin cut the water in a wide arc that took it fifty yards beyond him, then swung back in his direction. This time it moved in a straight line, directly toward him!

  As the fin neared, he dived in a desperate attempt to swim beneath it. But the shark had a fix on him now. It dived too, opening its enormous jaws wide

  13 Dolphin Rescue

  Joe froze in terror. The shark was almost upon him, when he suddenly saw a dark shape on his right, streaking in like a torpedo. Thinking it was another shark, Joe gave up all hope. But the shape, instead of attacking him, struck the shark’s midsection. The monster veered aside, and even underwater Joe could hear a loud click as the enormous jaws snapped shut only inches away from him.

  The dark shape moved away as fast as it had come in, only to be replaced by another torpedo-like object. It too drove into the shark’s side at break-neck speed, then scooted off again. In rapid order, four more speeding forms bludgeoned the man-eater’s side, making it flounder almost onto its back before it fled in panic.

  Joe surfaced to see the gray fin moving away at express-train speed. It kept going until it disappeared from sight.

  Then a graceful, hard-snouted figure arched through the air ten feet over Joe’s head and came down in such a perfect dive that it hardly made a splash. Five similar shapes performed the same acrobatics, their crescent-shaped mouths seeming to grin down at Joe as they soared above him.

  It was a school of six dolphins, the mortal enemies of sharks, but friends to humans. Joe remembered reading how dolphins occasionally attacked sharks by butting them at high speed with their hard snouts, sometimes even killing them by rupturing their hearts.

  The dolphins continued to cavort about him, playfully showing off their acrobatic skill. Joe raised his hands above water to applaud loudly.

  Meanwhile, Frank had headed the Sea Scorpion into the sun.

  “You don’t think Joe could have drowned, do you?” Chet asked, shivering at the thought.

  “He had the wire cutters in his hand when he went overboard,” Frank said, his face drawn and his eyes clouded with fear. “If he acted fast, he could have cut both the rope and the wire around his waist in time. We can only hope.”

  Chet glanced around. The lump in his stomach began to ache violently and his voice trembled. “Even i-if he got free of that anchor, how would we find him way out here? We could pass fifty yards from him without spotting him.”

  “We’ll start circling when we get back to where he was knocked overboard.

  “If you can figure out where that is. I couldn’t.”

  “I don’t think we sailed more than a mile beyond him,” Frank said. “I admit our starting point will be a blind guess, but we’ll circle from there in wider and wider loops. We ought to hit the right spot eventually. ”

  “Suppose we don’t?”

  “We’ll run in and call the Coast Guard. They’ll send up helicopters to scour the whole area. From the air, he’ll be a lot easier to see.”

  When they came to the spot where Frank figured Joe had been thrown overboard, he throttled down until the boat was barely moving.

  “Okay,” he said to Chet. “You and Vern take posts on opposite sides of the boat and start looking.”

  Chet moved back amidship to relay this instruction to Vern. Chet took the starboard side and Vern the port side as Frank steered the boat in ever-widening circles. Both boys strained their eyes intently looking out over the water.

  When the circle had reached a half mile in diameter with no sign of Joe, Frank became discouraged. “I guess we better leave it up to the Coast Guard,” he said, his face ashen white.

  “Wait. There’s something over there!” Vern suddenly called out.

  He pointed into the distance, and at once Frank reversed engines to bring the boat to a halt.

  “It’s not Joe,” Chet said glumly. “It’s something jumping in and out of the water. In fact a lot of somethings.”

  Frank squinted his eyes, and peered under his hand to see what Chet was talking about.

  “Sea lions?” he asked.

  “Why don’t we go see?” Vern suggested.

  Advancing the throttle, Frank steered the boat in the direction of the jumping animals.

  As they neared, Chet said, “It’s a school of porpoises.”

  “Dolphins, I think,” Frank said.

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Dolphins are porpoises, but porpoises aren’t necessarily dolphins,” Frank explained. “It’s like a nickel is a coin, but a coin isn’t necessarily a nickel.”

  Vern said, “He means dolphins are a special kind of porpoise.”

  By now, they were within fifty yards of the cavorting dolphins. Chet exclaimed, “Hey, there’s something in the water they’re jumping over!”

  Frank pulled the boat in closer.

  “Hey, look! It’s Joe!” Chet yelled to the others.

  Either the approach of the boat
, or the boys’ relieved shouts, frightened the dolphins away. They raced off in formation, arcing in and out of the water as though they were riding some invisible roller coaster.

  Frank slowed the Sea Scorpion, reversed engines, and came to a stop within a few feet of his brother. Joe swam over and was pulled aboard by Chet and Vern.

  “We thought you were a goner,” Chet said happily, pounding his friend on the back.

  “I will be, if you keep that up,” an exhausted Joe told him, moving out of range.

  “Too bad we scared off your friends,” Vern said. “It looked like you were all having a good time.”

  “They saved my life by running off a shark,” Joe declared. “How’d you manage to turn the tables?”

  “Brains, pure brains,” Chet said, tapping his forehead.

  “Yeah, but not yours,” Vern said. “It was Frank’s. He told Joe what had happened.

  Frank headed the boat back to the spot where they had left their attackers, while Joe went below in search of dry clothing. He did not find any, but discovered a pair of sneakers that fit him. He would just have to put up with being wet until he got back to the hotel.

  Soon the Sea Scorpion pulled up near the trio in the water.

  “Like to come back aboard?” Chet invited.

  “Please,” Red Sluice said in a frightened voice. “I can’t swim.”

  “Want us to throw you one of these anchors?” Chet asked.

  “Cut the comedy, Chet,” Frank called over his shoulder. “Bring them aboard one at a time, and tie each one up before you pull out the next.”

  “Roger,” Chet said. “Come on, Red.”

  “But first bring out that knife you carry and hold it up,” Vern added.

  Red let loose of the life ring with one hand to get his knife.

  “Drop it,” Vern ordered.

  Red released his grip and the knife sank into the water.

  “You have any weapons, Maharaja?” Chet asked.

  “No,” the little man said.

  “How about you, Crafty?”

  The tattooed man shook his head.

  “We’ll check both of you when you come aboard,” Chet warned. “If either of you have anything, we’ll toss you back in the water.”

  “We’re not carrying anything,” Crafty insisted.

  “Okay,” Chet called to Frank.

  Frank maneuvered the boat right next to the trio. Chet leaned over to offer Red Sluice a hand. As he pulled him aboard, he twisted the man’s right arm behind his back. Vern took hold of the left one and they forced Red face down. After binding his wrists with one of the pieces of rope that had been used on them, they searched his pockets but found no gun or other knives.

  “You’re next, Crafty,” Chet said, leaning over the rail to offer the tattooed man a helping hand.

  When Crafty was aboard, they bound his hands and searched him in the same manner. He was carrying no weapons, either.

  Finally, they pulled up Anton and gave him the same treatment. Then Chet reached down to retrieve the life preserver and dropped it on the deck.

  After arranging the three with their backs to the rail, far enough apart so that they could not untie each other, Chet and Vern went forward to Big Harry, who was still unconscious. He began to wake up just as they finished binding his wrists behind him. Then Frank headed the boat in.

  It was close to noon when he berthed the Sea Scorpion. After it was tied up, the boys walked a few yards along the dock beyond earshot of the four captives in order to discuss what to do with them. Chet was for turning them over to the authorities immediately.

  “We decided not to call in the police until we knew who the big boss of the car theft ring is,” Joe reminded him.

  “Chet and I did find out,” Frank said.

  “You only saw him,” Joe insisted. “You don’t know who he is.”

  “I snapped his picture from inside that refrigerator carton. I had been looking for you when he drove up in a big car and went into the warehouse.”

  “How do you know it was the big boss?” Vern asked.

  “We sneaked into the warehouse and overheard him talking to Big Harry and Crafty Kraft. That’s how we learned you guys were tied up in the machine shop.”

  “But you don’t know his name,” Joe said.

  “That doesn’t matter,” Frank told him. “When I get the film developed, I’ll turn it over to the police. They should be able to find out who he is. In the meantime, we can’t keep those four guys tied up, and we can’t let them loose, either. Seems to me we have to turn them in.”

  “I guess so,” Joe agreed. “Wonder if there’s a phone around here.”

  Vern pointed to a large building at the edge of the dock area, about fifty yards away. “Maybe there.”

  “You guys go check,” Frank suggested. “I’ll stand guard over our prisoners.”

  Joe, Chet, and Vern headed for the large building. As they neared, they saw that it was a boat tackle shop. Chet stuck his head in the door and asked a clerk if he had a public phone.

  “Out back,” the clerk told him.

  The three went around the building and found a phone booth. Joe took a dime out of one of his wet pockets, dialed the operator, and asked for the police.

  At the dock, Frank stood alongside the boat, occasionally glancing at the prisoners to make sure they were in the same positions. After a time, he decided to go back aboard.

  As soon as he stepped on the deck, he realized they had not searched the prisoners as thoroughly as they should have. Crafty Kraft’s right pant leg was pushed up above his knee to disclose a leather sheath strapped to his calf. The sheath was empty and he held an eight-inch hunting knife in his hand!

  He had already cut the prisoners’ bonds, and now all four jumped to their feet and rushed at Frank!

  Big Harry and Red Sluice were in the lead. Frank ducked under a looping right thrown by Big Harry, grabbed the man’s wrist, and flipped him over his shoulder onto the deck. Whirling to face Red, he fended a blow and shoved him into Crafty and Anton, who were right behind the redheaded man.

  While the three were untangling themselves, Frank thought quickly. He knew there was no way he could win against these four opponents. Just as he saw Big Harry painfully climb to his feet, he took a running jump onto the dock and, picking himself up, raced away.

  Big Harry chased after the boy, and the other three hoods followed in hot pursuit.

  But Frank had a good lead. When he was halfway between the boat and the tackle shop, Joe, Chet, and Vern came around the corner. Immediately seeing Frank’s predicament, they ran up as fast as they could.

  The hoods were too tired to stomach another fight, though, and turning, they rushed back toward the boat.

  By the time Chet, Vern, and Joe reached Frank, Big Harry was jumping aboard. Seconds later, he started the engine, while his partners were hastily casting off lines.

  “Come on!” Frank shouted. “Don’t let them get away!”

  The four boys raced for the boat. But Red, Anton, and Crafty hopped aboard just before the boys got there, and the Sea Scorpion backed from the slip.

  The foursome halted at the edge of the dock and watched in frustration as Big Harry swung the boat around and opened the throttle wide!

  14 A Magical Disappearance

  As the boat disappeared from sight, Joe asked, “How’d they get loose?”

  “We didn’t search them well enough,” Frank said. “Crafty had a knife strapped to his leg.”

  “Well, at least that settles the argument about whether or not to turn them over to the police,” Chet said philosophically.

  “Did you call them?” Frank asked Joe.

  His younger brother nodded. “They said they’d be right over.”

  The boys walked back to the boat tackle shop to await the arrival of the police. A paddy wagon and a squad car showed up a few minutes later. Two uniformed officers got out of the car, one middle-aged and wearing sergeant’s stripes, the other
a young rookie.

  “Which one of you phoned in?” the sergeant asked.

  “I did,” Joe said.

  “Your name’s Joe Hardy?”

  “Yes, sir,” Joe said and introduced the other boys.

  “I’m Sergeant Kelly and my partner’s Jim Olsen.” The officer looked from Joe to Frank. “Are you the famous detectives?” he asked.

  “Our father’s Fenton Hardy,” Frank admitted.

  “I’ve heard a lot about him, and you two also. Where are these kidnappers?”

  “They got away,” Frank confessed. “It was my fault because I was guarding them. One of them had a knife strapped to his leg that we didn’t find when we searched him. He cut himself and the others loose and they sailed off in the boat.”

  “Maybe you’d better tell us the whole story,” Sergeant Kelly suggested. He turned to his companion. “Looks like we won’t need the paddy wagon, Olsen. Tell Ralph he can take off.”

  “Sure, Sarge.” The young policeman went over to deliver the message to the driver, who left immediately. Running back to the group, he listened to their story.

  The boys told everything that had happened, going back to the theft of Vern’s car in Bayport.

  When they finished, Sergeant Kelly said, “This is a matter for the auto-theft division. But first, I want you to describe the kidnappers and their boat so the Coast Guard can begin a search.”

  The boys related every detail they could remember, and the sergeant radioed their report to headquarters.

  When he hung up the radio mike, he said, “Now we’ll take you to Parker Center to talk to someone in the auto-theft division. Okay?”

  “Can we stop at our hotel on the way?” Joe asked. “I’m soaking wet.”

  The sergeant grinned. “You do look like a drowned rat. Sure, we’ll give you time to clean up.”

  The young detectives crowded into the back seat of the squad car and were driven to their hotel. Since they had slept in their clothes, they all decided to change. Sergeant Kelly told them to take their time.

  “There’s no rush,” he said. “The whole police force plus the Coast Guard are looking for the kidnappers, and that warehouse you told us about won’t go away. ”