Mystery of Smugglers Cove (9 page)

“Professor Viga, have you turned lead into gold yet?” Nitron demanded.

“Not yet,” Viga admitted. “But I think I know the formula. A few more experiments, and I will have made the discovery of the century!”

“He's a nut,” Joe whispered.

Nitron walked to the slag barrel where the Hardys could see him. Myer also came into view next to him.

Pointing to the barrel, the smuggler asked, “Is this the burned-out lead?”

“Yes,” Viga replied.

Surreptitiously, Nitron slipped a lump of yellow metal from his pocket and held it behind his back. Myer took it and secretly dropped it into the container, all the while continuing the conversation with the eccentric old man.

“He ‘salted' the slag,” Frank whispered, referring to the trick used by crooks of planting something in a certain place, then pretending to find it.

Suddenly Myer shouted, “Gold!” He reached into the barrel and pulled out the yellow lump that he had tossed in. He held it up for Viga to see. It gave off a soft gleam.

Viga hurried over and seized it. “I must have overlooked this piece!” he croaked. “Is there any more? Let me see!” Excitedly he foraged in the barrel, tossing pieces of burned-out lead over his shoulder. His head disappeared bit by bit.

At last he stood up again. “There's no more,” he said, disappointed. Then he brightened up. “But this lump proves my formula's correct. All I have to do is review my experiments and find out which one will produce gold every time. Then you can sell it on the world market, Mr. Nitron, and we'll be millionaires!”

Nitron nodded. “But right now we have a little problem,” he pointed out. “You said you'd make enough gold to finance the business. I've run out of funds completely, so you'd better give me that family heirloom you mentioned to tide us over until you make your gold.”

Viga nodded. “I'll stick to our bargain. Soon we'll have all the gold we need, and I'll buy the heirloom back.”

Nitron shrugged. “Fine. I'll borrow money on it to pay the bills until you start mass-producing.”

Viga reached inside his robe and pulled out a black jewel case. Opening it, he displayed a beautiful diamond necklace.

Frank nudged Joe. “That's the valuable object Nitron was talking about, not the Wester picture!”

Nitron took the necklace and held it up. The stones glittered brilliantly.

“It belonged to my mother,” Viga said. “That's why I don't want to part with it forever.”

“I'll take good care of it,” Nitron assured him with a cynical grin. He put the necklace into the case again, slipped it into his pants pocket, and grabbed Viga's hand. “And now we'll have to get back to Key Blanco.”

There was a shuffling of boots on the floor as the smugglers got to their feet. Frank and Joe quickly retreated across the laboratory, when suddenly the furnace erupted with a roar! Flames shot up and the vents spewed clouds of steam. Molten lead streamed down into the vat, while the safety valve went off with a shrill scream!

The force shook the floor of the building. The next instant the door to the back room burst wide open. The Hardys were revealed in the glare of the blazing furnace!

“Frank and Joe, what are you doing here?” Nitron demanded. “I ordered you to stay on the boat!”

The boys turned and ran across the lab.

“They're spies!” Nitron screamed. “Catch ‘em!”

He and his smugglers rushed up to the young detectives who had no chance to climb through the window. They circled around to the other side of the furnace, where a tall ladder led to the loft.

Joe spotted a large box full of marble-sized stone spheres marked with the mystical stars of alchemy. He scooped up a handful and hurled them under the feet of their pursuers. Nitron and his men began to slip and slide. They lost their balance and grabbed wildly at one another. Then they fell in a heap on the floor.

The Hardys scrambled up the ladder to the loft. Frantically they looked around for a window or skylight that would let them out onto the roof. But there was no exit of any kind! Joe tried to kick the ladder down. Too late! The smugglers were already swarming up toward the loft.

“We're trapped!” Joe exclaimed.

Frank pulled his brother into a niche in the wall next to the ladder, gesturing for him to be silent.

One by one, Myer and the smugglers climbed from the ladder into the loft and, not seeing the Hardys, rushed to the other side. Nitron came last. As he stepped into the loft, Viga's jewel case, which was protruding from his back pocket, fell out. Not noticing it, the smuggler rushed to the rear, where his companions were shouting and looking for the boys.

Frank quickly grabbed the jewel case, then he and Joe skidded down the ladder, pulling it after them to the floor. Nitron and his men heard the noise and gathered at the edge of the loft. They yelled furiously and shook their fists.

Viga had watched the chase in dazed silence. Now he spoke up. “What is this all about?”

“They're smugglers!” Frank hissed as the boys turned to run out of the building. “Criminals. Here's your necklace. Don't give it back to them!” He shoved the jewel case at the bewildered old man. Then he rushed outside with Joe at his heels.

Viga followed. “Wait!” he called out. “You mean all my alchemy was for nothing?”

“That's right, Professor,” Frank said, grabbing the man's arm. “Come on. You should report this to the police. That lump of gold was planted by Myer. We saw the whole thing. He only pretended to find it in the barrel. ”

Viga was aghast. “My assistant? He's one of them?”

“He is,” Frank confirmed, dragging the professor along as they moved rapidly back toward the boat. Unfortunately, Viga held them up. The alchemist's ladle in his pocket weighed him down, and he had to hold his robe above his ankles with one hand to avoid tripping on it. His cone-shaped hat kept slipping down over his eyes, forcing him to push it back in order to see where he was going.

By the time the group reached the top of the hill, Viga was panting and puffing.

“Please keep going, Professor,” Joe encouraged him. “We're almost there.”

“The smugglers must have climbed down from the loft by now,” Frank said. “I'm sure they're hot on our trail.”

Sounds in the underbrush behind them indicated that Nitron and his gang were drawing near. Desperately the Hardys hurried the old man down the hill. Finally they saw the boat, with Chet, Biff, and Junior Seetro on deck waving at them.

Just then Viga tripped over his gown and fell. His hat tumbled off, and the boys had to stop and help him to his feet.

Nitron and his men leaped out of the underbrush and attacked them! Chet, Biff, and Junior jumped ashore and plunged into the fight. A wild melee ensued. Biff landed a roundhouse right that leveled one of the smugglers. Chet, swinging his arms with hands clasped, pounded another in the stomach and made him double over.

Frank wrestled with Nitron, and Joe got a ham merlock on Myer. Viga stood stock-still at first, then he took his alchemist's ladle out of his pocket and struck Nitron on the head with a loud bong. The smuggler blacked out. Then the old man did the same to Myer. He went down the line swinging his weapon till every one of the gang lay on the ground unconscious!

Grinning, the boys got to their feet. “Nice work, Professor,” Frank said. “You deserve a medal!”

“We'd better get those guys tied up before they come to,” Joe advised.

“No trouble,” Junior replied. He ran to the boat and returned with a coil of rope and a sailor's knife. Cutting the rope into sections, he handed them around, and the boys tied the hands of the smugglers behind their backs.

Nitron awoke first. The Hardys made him go aboard and sit down on deck. The rest of the gang followed. “We'll take them straight to police headquarters,” Frank said.

He started the engine and steered the boat out into open water. Halfway down the coast a police launch appeared and cut across their bow. An officer with a bullhorn ordered Frank to heave to. Nodding, the boy let the vessel come to a stop.

The police launch eased up alongside, and a lieutenant came aboard. Surveying the men on deck, he demanded, “What's going on here? ”

“That's Ignaz Nitron and his gang of smugglers,” Frank said. “We caught them as they were about to defraud Professor Viga.”

“What!” The lieutenant stared in surprise as Frank explained the details of their mission.

“You've done an excellent job,” he said at the end. “We've been trying to catch these guys for a long time. Now, thanks to you, we've got them!”

The lieutenant turned to Viga. “Want to tell us about your part in all this, Professor?”

“I believe in alchemy,” Viga confessed. “I needed a laboratory, and Myer helped me establish one in the barn. Later he brought Nitron to see me. They pretended to believe I could turn lead into gold. I know now I was deceived. ”

“Lieutenant, it was a confidence game,” Frank said. “Nitron and Myer salted the slag with a lump of gold and then claimed to find it.”

“They were after the professor's diamond necklace all the time,” Joe commented. “They tricked him into giving it to them. He would have never gotten it back if Frank hadn't disrupted their scheme. ”

Viga sighed. “I read every book on alchemy, and carried out many experiments, always hoping my furnace would produce gold. And all for nothing!” He buried his head in his hands and groaned in despair.

“The furnace is still going in the lab,” Joe pointed out.

“I'll have one of my men shut it down,” the lieutenant said and dispatched an officer to the barn. Then, after advising them of their legal rights, he interrogated the gang. Confronted with the evidence, Nitron confessed he had tricked Viga into giving him the necklace.

“What about Raymond Wester's picture?” Frank demanded.

Nitron looked startled. “What do you know about that? he exploded.

“We found your fingerprint in his house in Bayport. You and Mark Morphy took the picture.”

“With the help of Tom,” Joe added. “You also stole two golden candlesticks and silver pitchers, which you hid in your cottage on Key Blanco along with other things you lifted—”

Nitron, who had turned white as a sheet, interrupted nervously. “We took the picture, I admit. But in Blanco City Morphy went off with it. I have no idea where it is!”

Nitron's men assured the lieutenant that they did not know either, and were led away into the police launch for transport to Egret Island.

The boys followed, steering Nitron's boat, and gave a full report of what had happened.

“We now have enough evidence to put this gang behind bars for a long time,” the lieutenant said. “Thanks for your excellent work, boys.”

“What about Junior Seetro?” Frank asked.

“Well, he has been an accomplice, and we'll have to see what the authorities say. In the meantime we'll have to ask him not to leave the area. He has to be available for the trial as a witness.”

“That,
I'm glad of,” Junior promised. “I'm really happy to be out of this racket—I'll tell everything I know!”

The lieutenant turned to the Hardys. “When you get to Blanco City, it would be a great help if you led the local police to Nitron's cottage.”

“We'll be glad to,” Frank replied.

“Good. I'll notify them that you're coming.”

The boys rented a boat for the return voyage. On the way, they discussed the smugglers.

Suddenly Frank had an idea. “Junior, was anyone else involved in Nitron's operation?”

“Not directly,” their new friend replied. “But now that you mention it, he did say he got certain orders from the chief in written messages left in a place in the Everglades.”

“Where?” Biff asked.

“Can't tell you, fellows. All I know is that it's near Moss Tributary.”

“I remember that from the map,” Frank noted. “It's west of the Pa-hay-okee Trail.”

Reaching Blanco City, the boys turned in the boat, then reported to the police. Together with two officers, they sped to Nitron's cottage and helped load the crates of Swiss watches and other stolen objects onto the truck they had brought. When they were finished, one of the policemen said, “We'll return all these goods to their rightful owners once we have established who they are.”

He thanked the young detectives, then the officers drove off while the boys returned to Blanco City in Junior Seetro's car. There the Hardys and their friends shook hands with Junior. “Good luck,” Joe said, while Frank took their duffel bags out of the trunk. “And remember your promise!”

Junior grinned. “Let's hope that next time you see me, I'll be in the Merchant Marine, straight as an arrow!”

He drove off and the other four walked along the cliff to Smugglers Cove. When they entered Wester's house, the maid failed to recognize them until they spoke to her.

“I thought you were sailors,” she confessed.

“It's just a disguise,” Joe told her. “Is Mr. Wester in?”

“No. He's gone to Key West for several days, but he wants you to stay here until he gets back. Come on in.”

The boys went up to their rooms and changed into their regular clothes. They put their sailors' outfits and beards into the duffel bags, which they gave to the maid to donate to a charitable organization.

“Hey, how about some flapjacks?” Chet proposed. “I'm starved.”