_THE HARDY BOYS_
THE MISSING CHUMS
By FRANKLIN W. DIXON
AUTHOR OF
THE HARDY BOYS: THE TOWER TREASURE
THE HARDY BOYS: THE SECRET OF THE OLD MILL
_ILLUSTRATED BY_
WALTER S. ROGERS
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
Made in the United States of America
Copyright, 1928, by
GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC.
_All Rights Reserved_
The Hardy Boys: The Missing Chums
[Illustration: HE CRAWLED ON HANDS AND KNEES.]
CONTENTS
I THE THREE STRANGERS
II QUICK THINKING
III A SHADY TRIO
IV THE SEND-OFF
V NO WORD FROM THE CHUMS
VI MISSING
VII WRECKAGE
VIII THE STRANGE LETTER
IX BLACKSNAKE ISLAND
X THE BOY ON THE DECK
XI THE ISLAND
XII INTO THE CAVE
XIII THE FOUR MEN
XIV THE STORM
XV A STARTLING ANNOUNCEMENT
XVI THE ALARM
XVII CAPTURE
XVIII BACK TO THE CAVE
XIX SEPARATED
XX SEIZING THE BOATS
XXI AT THE ISLAND
XXII THE CHASE
XXIII HOME AGAIN
_THE HARDY BOYS_:
THE MISSING CHUMS
CHAPTER I
THE THREE STRANGERS
"You certainly ought to have a dandy trip."
"I'll say we will, Frank! We sure wish you could come along."
Frank Hardy grinned ruefully and shook his head.
"I'm afraid we're out of luck. Joe and I may take a little trip later
on, but we can't make it this time."
"Just think of it!" said Chet Morton, the other speaker. "A whole week
motorboating along the coast! We're the lucky boys, eh, Biff?"
Biff Hooper, at the wheel of his father's new motorboat, nodded
emphatically.
"You bet we're lucky. I'm glad dad got this boat in time for the summer
holidays. I've been dreaming of a trip like that for years."
"It won't be the same without the Hardy Boys," returned Chet. "I had
it all planned out that Frank and Joe would be coming along with us in
their own boat and we'd make a real party of it."
"Can't be done," observed Joe Hardy, settling himself more comfortably
in the back of the boat. "There's nothing Frank and I would like
better--but duty calls!" he exclaimed dramatically, slapping himself on
the chest.
"Duty, my neck!" grunted Frank. "We just have to stay at home while dad
is in Chicago, that's all. It'll be pretty dull without Chet and Biff
around to help us kill time."
"You can put in the hours thinking of Biff and me," consoled Chet. "At
night you can just picture us sitting around our campfire away up the
coast, and in the daytime you can imagine us speeding away out over the
bounding main." He postured with one foot on the gunwale. "A sailor's
life for me, my hearties! Yo, ho, and a bottle of ink!"
The boat gave a sudden lurch at that moment, for Biff Hooper had not
yet mastered the art of navigation and Chet wavered precariously for a
few seconds, finally losing his balance and sitting down heavily in a
smear of grease at the bottom of the craft.
"_Yo ho, and a bottle of ink
And he nearly fell into the drink,_"
chanted Frank Hardy, as the boys roared with laughter at their chum's
discomfiture.
"Poet!" sniffed Chet, as he got up. Then, as he gingerly felt the seat
of his trousers: "Another pair of pants ready for the cleaners. I ought
to wear overalls when I go boating." He grinned as he said it, for Chet
Morton was the soul of good nature and it took a great deal more than a
smear of grease to erase his ready smile.
The four boys, Frank and Joe Hardy, Chet Morton and Biff Hooper, all
chums in the same set at the Bayport high school, were out on Barmet
Bay in the _Envoy_, the Hooper motorboat, helping Biff learn to run
the craft. Their assistance consisted chiefly of mocking criticisms
of the luckless Biff's posture at the helm and sundry false alarms to
the effect that the boat was springing a leak or that the engine was
about to blow up. Each announcement had the effect of precipitating the
steersman into a panic of apprehension and sending his tormentors into
convulsions of laughter.
Biff had made good progress, however, as he had been with the Hardy
boys on previous occasions in their own motorboat, the _Sleuth_, and he
had picked up the rudiments of handling the craft. He was anxious to be
a first-rate pilot before starting up the coast on his projected trip
with Chet Morton the following week. He had an aptitude for mechanics
and he was satisfied that he would have a thorough understanding of his
boat by the time they were ready to start.
"If the coast guards find two little boys like you roaming around in a
great big motorboat they're likely to give you a spanking and send you
back home," laughed Frank. "I'll bet you'll be back in Bayport inside
of two days."
"Rats!" replied Chet, inelegantly, if forcefully. "If our grub holds
out we'll be away more than the week."
"There's no danger of that. Not with you along," Joe remarked, and
deftly dodged a wad of waste that Chet flung at him. Chet Morton's
enormous appetite was proverbial among the chums.
"Just sore because you can't come along with us," Chet scoffed. "You
know mighty well that the two of you would give your eye-teeth to be on
this trip. Oh, well, we'll tell you all about it when we get back."
"A lot of comfort that will be!"
"A leak!" roared Chet suddenly, pounding Biff on the back. "The boat
has sprung a leak. Get a pail!"
"What!" shouted Biff, in alarm, starting up from the wheel. Then, for
the fifth time that afternoon, he realized that he had been fooled and
he sank back with a look of disgust on his face.
"Some time that boat _will_ spring a leak and I won't believe you," he
warned, settling down to his steering again.
"I'll be good," promised Chet, sitting down and looking out over the
bay. "Say, there's a big brute of a motorboat coming along behind us,
isn't it?"
"I'll say she's big," Frank agreed, looking back. "I don't remember
ever having seen that boat around here before."
"Me neither," declared Joe. "I wonder where it came from."
The strange craft was painted a dingy gray. It was large and unwieldy
and did not ride easily in the water. Although that boat was some
distance in the wake of their own craft the boys could distinguish the
figures of three men, all seated well up toward the front. Biff glanced
back.
"It's a new one on me," he said. "I've never seen it before."
"Sure has lots of power, anyway," Chet commented. The roar of the
engine could be plainly heard across the water. In spite of its clumsy
appearance, the big boat ploughed ahead at good speed, and, as Bill
had the _Envoy_, his craft, throttled down, the second boat was slowly
overtaking them.
"Let's wait till they get abreast of us and give them a race," Chet
suggested.
"Not on your life," objected Biff. "I'm only learning to run this tub
and I'm not in the racing class yet. Besides, there are too many other
boats out in the bay this afternoon. I'd be sure to run into one of
them."
The boys watched as the other craft overtook them. The big motorboat
ploughed noisily ahead, keeping directly in their wake.
"I wonder if the man at the helm is asleep," said Frank. "He doesn't
seem to be making any attempt to pull over."
"He's awake, all right," declared Chet. "I can see him talking to the
man beside him. He won't run us down. Don't worry--not with Captain
Hooper at the helm, my hearties!"
The roaring of the pursuing craft suddenly took on a new note and the
big boat seemed to leap out of the water as it increased its speed and
bore rapidly down on the _Envoy_. Spray flew about the heads of the
helmsman and his two passengers and a high crest of foam rose from
either side of the bow. Biff Hooper shifted the wheel slightly and the
_Envoy_ veered in toward the shore. To the surprise of the boys, the
other boat also changed its course and continued directly in their wake.
"The idiots!" exclaimed Biff.
"I don't get the idea of this at all," muttered Frank Hardy to his
brother. "What are they following us so closely for?"
Joe shrugged. "Probably just trying to give us a scare."
The other boat was now almost upon their craft. It nosed out to the
right and drew alongside, coming dangerously close. The boys could see
the three men clearly and they noticed that all three scrutinized them,
seeming to pay particular attention to Chet and Biff.
The men were unsavory looking fellows, unshaven, surly of expression.
The man at the helm was sharp-featured and keen-eyed, while the other
two were of heavier build. One of the pair wore a cap, while the other
man was bare-headed, revealing a scant thatch of carroty hair so
close-cropped that it seemed to stick out at all angles to his cranium.
This man, the boys saw, nudged his companion and pointed to Biff, who
was too busy at the helm of his own craft to notice.
"Not so close!" yelled Chet, seeing that the other boat was running
broadside in dangerous proximity to the _Envoy_.
In reply, the man at the helm of the other craft merely sneered and
brought his boat in until the two speeding launches were almost
touching sides.
"What's the idea?" Joe shouted. "Trying to run us down?"
Biff Hooper shifted the wheel so that the _Envoy_ would edge away from
the other boat, and in this effort he was successful, for a gap of
water was soon apparent between the speeding craft. But in escaping one
danger he had risked another.
Two sailboats that had been flitting about Barmet Bay that afternoon
were racing with the wind, and they now came threshing along with
billowing canvas, immediately into the course of the motorboat. Biff
had seen the sailboats previously and had judged his own course
accordingly, but in his efforts to get away from the mysterious launch
he had unwittingly maneuvered the _Envoy_ into such a position that a
collision now seemed inevitable.
The sailboats seemed to loom right up before him, not more than a
hundred yards away. They were racing close together, one boat but a
nose in the lead. They were scudding along with the wind at high speed
and the motorboat roared down upon them.
Biff Hooper bent desperately over the helm. He was so close that no
matter which way he turned it seemed impossible that he could miss one
or the other of the sailboats. If he turned to the right he would crash
into them head-on; if he turned to the left he would run before them
and a general smash-up might be the result.
The men in the sailboats were also aware of their danger.
The boys had a glimpse of one man waving his arms. One of the boats
veered out abruptly and the yardarm swung around. The sailboat was
lying directly in the path of the _Envoy_.
The roaring of the engine, the threshing of the sails, the warning
shouts of the boys, all created a confusion of sound. The white sails
seemed to loom high above the speeding boat. A hideous collision
appeared to be inevitable.