A STARTLING ANNOUNCEMENT
The Hardy boys reached the cove in the nick of time. Although the place
was protected from the full fury of the sea, the high wind had lashed
the waves to such an extent that the boat was pitching and tossing
about, in imminent danger of running aground.
The beach was sandy, however, and after some maneuvering, the boys were
able to run the boat up on the shore, where it was safe enough. The
storm by this time was showing some signs of abating, although the rain
was still pouring in undiminished vigor. Frank rummaged about in the
boat until he located their oilskins, and these they donned, although
their clothes were already drenched.
"I'd hate to be out at sea on a night like this," shouted Frank, as the
lightning revealed the tossing inferno of waves under the black skies.
At that moment a light flashed away out to the right.
"A boat!" exclaimed Joe.
"Heading toward the island!"
They kept their eyes fixed on the place where they had seen the light.
In a few moments a vivid splash of lightning cut the darkness and they
had a momentary glimpse of a small motorboat tossing about in the black
waves.
"He'll never make the shore in this storm," said Frank, shaking his
head.
"Can it be Tony?"
"I hardly think so. He wouldn't come close in such a storm."
"That's true, too."
"I think it's some outsider."
"Do you think we can help him?"
"I don't think so. He'll probably pile up on the rocks."
"Perhaps he's one of the gang."
"That's so," agreed Frank. "I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps he knows
where he's going, after all. Still, it won't hurt to go down the shore
a bit and see if he makes his landing all right."
They went on down the shore in the darkness, picking their way among
the rocks, feeling in their faces the salt spray blown in from the sea.
The dull booming of the surf and the howling of the wind provided an
almost deafening cacophony of sound. Every little while, a lightning
flash would reveal the little boat, slowly heading in toward the shore.
Suddenly Frank stopped short, grasping his brother by the arm.
"I saw a light ahead."
"I thought I did too. Right on the shore."
They waited. In a moment the light reappeared. It bobbed slowly up and
down and appeared to be moving down toward the beach.
"Somebody is going down to meet the boat. It must be one of the gang,"
declared Frank.
The boys went forward more cautiously. The next flash of lightning
showed that Frank's assumption was correct. They could see four men in
oilskins trudging down among the rocks. The man in the lead carried
a powerful electric lantern that cast a vivid beam of light upon the
rain-washed boulders.
They saw that the man in the motorboat was heading toward a small bay
that afforded ideal protection from the storm. The entrance was very
narrow and great waves dashed over the rocks with showers of white
spray, but the man in the boat guided his craft skillfully into the
channel. He was in difficulties for a few moments, but by good steering
brought the craft around. Then it shot forward, making the channel
neatly, and surged down toward the beach.
The men in oilskins were there to meet him. The boat was run up on
the sand and the lone steersman sprang out and splashed through the
water. For a few moments the five men conferred, standing there on the
dark beach, with the wind whipping their oilskins about their legs, the
lantern gleaming like a white eye, and the rain pouring down upon them.
They looked like five sinister birds of prey as they stood there in the
storm, and then they turned and began to walk back up over the rocks
toward the center of the island.
"This must be their landing place," said Frank. "And that means they
must have a good trail from here to the cave."
"Let's follow them," suggested Joe.
"Just what I was going to say. We know our boat is safe, and we can't
get any wetter than we are now."
The boys therefore made their way down to the place where the five men
had been standing. They could see the reflection of the lantern as it
bobbed up and down while the quintette trudged back toward the trees,
and they followed. True enough, there was a well-defined trail among
the rocks and they made easy progress, considering the darkness and the
fact that the trail was unknown to them.
The height of the storm had passed and the rain had settled down
to a steady downpour. The roar of the thunder had diminished to
an occasional distant rumble, and the lightning flashes were less
frequent. The wind, too, had died down.
The light ahead guided them up the trail, across the rocks, then into
the grove again, and in a short time they again emerged on the edge of
the clearing and could see the dull mass of the granite slope before
them. The fire still gleamed, and they could see the five men go into
the cave, which was brilliantly illuminated for a moment in the light
of the lantern which the first man held so that the others might pass.
"We may as well go right up," said Frank. "We've come this far. There
isn't any use backing down now."
"I'm with you."
They crossed the rocks and crept up toward the entrance to the cave.
They found tumbled boulders about the opening that afforded good
protection and they were able to make their way up to within a few feet
of the cave mouth without danger of being seen. The wind and the rain
still created sufficient noise to drown out any sounds that they might
have made in their approach.
Through an opening in the boulders, they peeped into the cave. As they
were in darkness they knew there was little chance that they would be
seen by the men within; as for the latter, they were in the full glare
of the fire, which one of the men had replenished from a pile of wood
near by. The boys, therefore, could see without being seen.
The men were divesting themselves of their oilskins, and one of them,
the newcomer, had flung himself down on a pile of blankets, as though
exhausted.
"I tell you it was a tough trip," he was saying. "I was sure I was
going to be wrecked. I couldn't find the passage. If you hadn't come
along with the lantern when you did I'd have been washed up on the
rocks and the boat would have been smashed to pieces."
"Well, you're here, and that's all there is to it," declared the man
they called Red. "You shouldn't have started out when you saw a storm
was coming up."
"I didn't know it was going to be so bad. Anyway, I thought I'd get
here before it broke."
"It must have been good news that brought you out here to-night,"
declared one of the others, sitting down.
"I'll say it was good news," said the newcomer. "Mighty good news."
"What is it?" they asked eagerly.
"I've found out why Fenton Hardy didn't pay any attention to that
letter."
The boys listened eagerly. At the mention of their father they knew
that all their suspicions had been verified. They waited tensely as
the conversation went on.
"Why?" asked Red.
"He didn't get it."
"Why didn't he get it?"
The newcomer paused and smiled.
"The reason he didn't get it," he said, slowly and triumphantly, "is
because we've got him."
"Got him?"
"We've got Fenton Hardy!"
"How?"
"Where?"
"How do you know?"
Questions were fired at the newcomer from all parts of the cave. He was
enjoying the sensation he had caused. As for the hidden listeners, they
experienced only a sickening amazement.
"The gang got him in Chicago last night. I just got word this
afternoon. He went out there to catch Baldy; but the boys got wind of
it and they laid a trap for him. He stepped right into it."
"Good!" exclaimed the red-headed man, rubbing his hands. "What could be
sweeter? We've got Hardy and we've got his sons--"
"By the way, how are they acting?" asked the newcomer.
"Oh, still kicking up a fuss--the young brats," growled the man called
Pete. "They say they ain't the Hardy boys at all."
"Don't worry about that. Bring 'em out here."
One of the men got up from beside the fire and disappeared into the
rear of the cave. His footsteps died away and the Hardy boys judged
that there must be some sort of inner chamber to the place. In a short
time he returned, pushing ahead of him two boys. Frank and Joe peered
forward, striving to catch a glimpse of the lads' features.
With a clanking of chains, the boys emerged into the firelight.
They were Chet Morton and Biff Hooper!
The lads were handcuffed and their ankles were bound by a gleaming
length of chain, just long enough to enable them to walk. They appeared
thin and tired, their shoulders drooped wearily, and as they stood
before the fire they said nothing.
"Well, Hardys," said the red-haired man in a harsh voice, "we have some
news for you."
"We've told you before," said Chet. "You've made a mistake. We're not
the Hardy boys."
The man named Pete stepped suddenly forward from the shadows and cuffed
Chet savagely on the side of the head.
"Shut up!" he snarled, and cuffed Biff Hooper as well. "No more of
that. We're tired of listenin' to it. You're the Hardy boys, all right,
and it won't do you no good to deny it."
"You've made a mistake!" insisted Chet stubbornly.
"We'll show you how much of a mistake we've made!" roared one of the
men. "We brought you out here to tell you something. Our men have got
your father at last."
"Mr. Hardy?" exclaimed Chet greatly taken aback.
"Yes, Mr. Hardy!" exclaimed Red, mimicking him. "That shot sunk home,
didn't it? We've got him, and we've got you, and we'll starve you into
making your mother come across with the money we want. If you have been
holding out, hoping your father would come for you, it's no good now.
We've got him and we've got you, so you may as well give up."
"There's no use asking us," declared Biff. "We're not the Hardy boys."
Red cuffed him viciously over the ears again. Biff staggered back from
the blow.
"Oh, take them back and chain them up again," Red said, in disgust.
"Let 'em starve for a while and they'll come around and tell the truth!"
"If I could get loose for about two minutes I'd show you--," declared
Biff, clenching his fists.
But the red-haired man only laughed contemptuously. The Hardy boys,
from their hiding place, saw Pete come forward and drag Chet and Biff
back into the darkness at the rear of the cave, their chains clanking
as they went.