Read The Clue of the Hissing Serpent Online
Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
The Clue of the Hissing Serpent (10 page)
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Frank laughed. “I think you're the detective, Mrs. King. By the way, is that really your name?”
“Of course it is. I was born Ruby Smith, but when I married Mr. King, I got the name of the famous chess piece.”
Mrs. King explained that she had been hired recently from the Museum of Natural History in New York City to become a curator in Bayport. “Oriental art is my field, and I understand you'd like to know more about this particular antique.”
Suddenly an idea occurred to Frank. “Did Iola Morton tell you?”
“That's right. She was in yesterday.”
“You're very kind to take such an interest,” Joe said.
The curator said that the piece had been made in India and carried by caravan to China during the Ming Dynasty. “Of course, it was part of a complete set,” she explained.
“So we heard,” Frank said.
“But did you hear about the curse?”
“A curse, really?” asked Joe.
“Every person who has come into possession of the Ruby King has died under unusual and tragic circumstances,” Mrs. King went on. “The first warlord who owned the piece was struck by lightning the day after he acquired it. Another owner died from poison a week after he bought the King, a third drowned in a flood which carried the Ruby King all the way down the Yangtze River.”
“Then what happened to it?” asked Frank.
“It was found by a poor peasant who was gored to death by a bull the next day.”
“Then Mr. Krassner better look out,” Joe said. “Do you really believe these fairy tales, Mrs. King?”
“Maybe they're only legends,” the woman replied. “But I thought you'd like to know about them.” She went on to tell the boys about the game of chess, which originated in India.
“Shah mat means The king is dead,”
she said. “That's where we get the word checkmate. The German word for it is
Schach matt.”
“Shah mat means The king is dead,”
she said. “That's where we get the word checkmate. The German word for it is
Schach matt.”
While the boys listened intently, Tony, Biff, and Phil waited impatiently outside.
“Wonder what's taking them so long,” said Biff.
“Maybe they got conked,” Tony said.
“Let's go in and take a look,” Phil suggested. “The fifteen minutes are almost up.”
The three went inside and were greeted with the same hospitality as the Hardys. When they asked about their friends, they were directed to the room of Ancient Art.
“Let's enter one at a time,” Biff said. “Phil, you go first. If there's any trouble, whistle.”
Phil went in. As he approached the group, Mrs. King was saying, “The curse can be lifted, according to an old story.”
“How?” asked Frank, waving to Phil.
“If it's buried.”
Joe let out a low whistle. Biff and Tony burst into the room, glancing wildly about. But Phil motioned with his hands. “Calm down, fellows, everything's all right.”
“What's going on?” Mrs. King asked, surprised.
The three boys were introduced and the whole thing explained. She laughed, and they resumed their conversation.
“If the curse can be lifted, why didn't one of the previous owners bury the King?” Joe asked.
“That's the point,” the curator went on. “It must not be buried by the owner, or anyone who knows him.”
“How is that possible?” Frank asked.
Mrs. King shrugged. “That's all I can tell you about the Ruby King. Has it been of any help?”
“Very much so,” Frank said.
They thanked the woman and left, their footsteps echoing along the marble corridor.
Outside, the Hardys discussed what they had just heard, then Frank said, “Are you fellows busy this afternoon? I'd like to check out that cabin in the woods. Want to help?”
The answer was an enthusiastic Yes.
“Good idea,” Joe said. “But first, how about some chow at our house?”
After lunch of roast-beef sandwiches, topped off with wedges of Aunt Gertrude's apple pie, the boys drove off to look for the shack which Joe and Tony had discovered in their horrendous aerial search.
It took more than an hour before they found the small country road which led to the old cabin. Biff parked and they proceeded on foot, peering out from the trees to observe the solitary building.
“It looks deserted,” Joe whispered.
The windows were boarded up. Weeds grew high around the walls, and the cabin gave the appearance of having been abandoned long ago.
As the boys were about to go closer, Phil whispered, “Duck!”
Everyone dropped to the ground, and five pairs of prying eyes watched a man sneak out of the woods.
“He looks like Eggleby,” Joe whispered.
The man knocked on the door and said,
“Shah mat!”
“Shah mat!”
A bolt clicked and he was let in.
The boys conversed in low tones about what to do next.
“If that was really Eggleby, he might know us,” Frank said. “Tony, you and Phil go up and knock at the door. Give the password. We'll back you up in case of trouble.”
“Okay. Here goes,” Tony said. He and Phil crept from their hiding place, walked across a small open area, and knocked on the door.
“Shah mat!”
Phil said.
“Shah mat!”
Phil said.
The door opened and they were admitted into the dark interior. All became quietâominously quiet, Frank thought. After ten minutes, neither of the two boys had returned.
“Something fishy's going on in there,” Joe said. “I think we'd better take a look-see.”
“All right,” Frank agreed. “Come on.”
The Hardys and Biff went to the door, knocked, and Frank said in a loud voice, “Shah
mat!”
mat!”
There was no answer. Joe tried the doorknob. It was locked.
“Stand back,” Biff said. He leaped forward and banged his shoulder against the door. It gave way with a cracking sound, and the boys dashed inside. It took a few seconds for their eyes to become adjusted to the dark interior.
“Good night!” Frank said. “They're all gone!”
CHAPTER XIII
The Third Man
“THEY'VE vanished!” Biff exclaimed. “Disappeared into thin air!”
“There must be another way out,” Frank declared, moving around.
“All the windows are barred and there's no back door,” Joe observed.
“Maybe there's a trap door,” Biff suggested.
The three got on their hands and knees, probing along the wooden floor with their fingers.
“Here's something,” Frank said as he felt a small, countersunk hinge.
In the shaft of light coming through the door, the boys made out the thin outline of a small trap door, barely large enough to admit a broad-shouldered person. Biff pried it open with his pocketknife and lowered himself into the hole, which was about five feet deep.
He groped about, finally locating an opening into the hard-packed earth. “Hey, guys, it's a tunnel!” Biff said.
“Can you get through?” Frank asked.
“Just about.”
“Okay, go ahead. I'll follow you. Joe, better stay topside, just in case.”
“Okay,” Joe said.
Frank dropped down into the hole, found the opening, and proceeded to wriggle through behind Biff. Bits of dirt fell on top of the boys as they inched forward. The air grew heavy, redolent of musty soil.
Biff stopped momentarily. “Are you coming, Frank?” His muffled words sounded like a voice from a tomb.
“Yes. Go ahead. But don't press against the roof too hard.”
While the two continued to mole their way through the dank tunnel, Joe stepped outside the cabin and listened. Except for birds twittering, no sound came from the surrounding woods.
“I wonder where they'll finally exit,” the boy mused.
Ten minutes later Biff called back to Frank again, “I see the light up ahead.”
“Okay, Biff. I'm right behind you.”
Now the tunnel widened considerably and the boys scrambled side by side toward the end. Just before they reached it, they came upon Phil and Tony. They were tied hand and foot and gagged, and trussed up in such a way that the least movement would choke them.
Frank and Biff tore off their gags and cut the ropes. “You okay?” Frank asked anxiously.
Tony nodded, sat up, and said weakly, “They're getting away. Outsideâlook!”
Frank and Biff rushed from the exit, which proved to be the mouth of a cave, and found themselves in a wide clearing. Suddenly they heard the engine of a car. Through the leafy branches of low-hanging trees they could make out a black sedan as it started along a rutted trail. Three men were in it!
Phil and Tony had followed the boys and staggered toward them.
“Were those the three guys who conked you?” Frank asked, pointing to the car.
“Only two did,” Phil said.
“Then the third man must have been a lookout at the end of the tunnel,” Frank conjectured.
“Where's Joe?” Tony asked.
“Back at the cabin. I'll have to give him the signal.” Frank imitated the cry of a bird.
Joe heard it faintly and repeated it. He started out across the woods, reaching the clearing a few minutes later.
“Those two had weapons,” Phil said. “They made us crawl through the tunnel, and when we neared the end, they gagged us and tied us up.”
The boys walked back through the woods to make a thorough search of the cabin.
“I guess they cleaned it out completely,” Frank said. “Joe, did you look around outside?”
“Yes, but I didn't have time to check in the back.”
“Okay, let's do it now,” Frank said, and led the others through the door and to the rear of the cabin.
Phil noticed something far off in the weeds. “What's that?” he asked, running toward it. He reached into the tall grass and pulled at a dirty tarpaulin. Beneath it was a neatly packed balloon!
Within minutes, the boys had spread open the envelope. “It's the serpent!” Joe exclaimed.
“What a find!” Tony said.
“We'll take it to the police as evidence,” Frank decided. “It's the balloon from which we were shot at!”
As they repacked the nylon envelope, Tony spied a piece of paper which apparently had fallen from the folds.
“Frank, Joe, look at this!”
“What is it?” Frank asked.
“A cablegram from Hong Kong!”
The boys crowded around as Tony read the message aloud: “âMing Do very ill. Hurry via Queen. Serpents.' ”
“What do you suppose that means?” Phil asked.
The Hardys studied the cable carefully and Frank said, “A person named Ming Do wants someone to hurry by the way of Queen something or other.”
“And Serpents means the serpent gang,” Biff added.
“But what is Queen? Is that some kind of code word?” Joe wondered.
“The balloon won't fit in the car,” Tony said. “I'll drive back to town and get our pickup.”
“Good idea,” Frank said and handed him the keys.
Tony returned shortly and the boys loaded up the balloon. On the way back to Bayport, they speculated about the turn of events. The evidence they had found certainly advanced the Hardys' case. Or perhaps, as Frank secretly thought, it had plunged them even deeper into an insoluble mystery!
When they arrived at police headquarters, Chief Collig was amazed to hear their story. He accepted the serpent balloon as evidence and looked at the cable.
“Whoever they're talking about is going to Hong Kong soon,” he conjectured. “If only we had a way to stop him. But we don't even know who's involved!”
He shook his head slowly. “I have some news, too,” he continued. “Not good, I'm afraid.”
“What happened?” Joe asked.
“Frank, Joe, look at this!” Tony said.
“Gerard Henry escaped from the Ocean Bluffs jail.”
“How'd he do that?” Biff asked.
Collig said that Henry had feigned illness and fooled an inexperienced guard. When his cell was opened, he had jumped the officer, disarmed him, and raced right out the front door.
“Listen,” Joe said. “Do you suppose he was that third man in the woods?”
“Might have been,” Collig said.
After they had made their report, the Hardys thanked their friends for their help. “We couldn't have pulled this off without you,” Frank said.
“You'll make detectives out of us yet,” Tony said as he drove them back to his house where he had left the Hardys' car.
Frank and Joe decided to visit Krassner in his office to tell him that his tormentors had apparently fled. And perhaps the man could shed some light on the mysterious cable. On the way they dropped Phil off at his house.
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