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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

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BOOK: The Clue of the Hissing Serpent

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Krassner and the Hardys watched the other craft behind them as they drifted higher and higher. A farm slid past below them and three dogs looked up and barked furiously. Frank was surprised he could hear them so far off.

“Enjoying yourself?” Krassner asked. He picked up binoculars and scanned the countryside.

“I never had such a good time in my life!” Joe said enthusiastically. “Thanks a million for the ride.”

“Don't mention it.” Krassner's face looked serene. “Ballooning takes you away from all the world's troubles.”

But the flight did not lull Frank's mind. It kept working to find the missing links in the puzzle. Was the Ruby King contrabandâperhaps stolen in China? Was that the reason Krassner had shunned the police?

As they sailed on silently, the Hardys studied the uninhabited woodland carefully. It was not at all like the view from a fast-flying airplane. Suddenly Frank heard the radio crackle:

“Frank, this is Chet. Do you read me?”

“Roger. What a swell ride!”

“Listen. There's another balloon.”

“Where?”

“At three o'clock.”

Frank turned around. “I see it.”

“Look close,” Chet advised, and Frank asked Krassner for the glasses. He trained them on the third craft.
It was the serpent balloon!

Frank told Krassner, and his face again showed tension and fear.

Chet's voice sounded once more. “Keep an eye on the snake. It's armed!”

Frank focused the binoculars on the other gondola. Three men were in it and one had a rifle. There was a muzzle flash, then a bullet whistled over them.

“They're firing at us!” Krassner screamed.

“Duck!” Joe ordered, “and let's land as fast as possible!”

Frank radioed to Chet, “We're descending. Better come with us.”

“Roger.”

Krassner had regained his composure, and Frank admired his airmanship. The man pulled open the vent and the craft sank rapidly. Three more shots sounded in the distance, but Krassner's fast-moving balloon made a difficult target. However, two slugs ripped through the balloon.

The wind freshened and the sinking balloon picked up speed. Frank saw that Krassner was heading for a small farm at the edge of the woods. There was a level, cleared area bordered on one side by a pond, on the other by an electric power line.

Fearless and Chet were close behind, but the serpent balloon made no attempt to follow them down. As their attackers flew out of sight, Frank talked to Chet again.

“Did you get a look at the snake's license number?”

“Affirmative. But Fearless says it's a phony. And listen to this. The snake has a little propeller, probably battery driven. That's how it caught up with us.”

“The police should be notified.”

“I've already done that,” Chet said. “Called the pickup trucks and told them to phone the State Police.”

“Good thinking. We're landing now. See you later.”

Krassner maneuvered the craft toward the middle of the field while the farm children ran out of the house to witness the descent. The electric wires seemed a safe distance to their left and the pond far enough to the right.

“You're a great pilot, Mr. Krassner,” Joe said tersely.

“We're not down yetâOh, oh, trouble!”

An errant gust hit the balloon, carrying it toward the power lines. Frank and Joe were gripped by a sickening feeling as the metal wires loomed ominously closer.

“The blast valve!” Krassner shouted. “It's over your head, Joe. Pull it!”

Joe reached up and grasped the lever, sending hissing flame into the envelope. Nothing happened.

“It's not working!” Frank cried out.

“It will in time,” Krassner said. “At least I hope so!”

Several seconds passed, then all at once the balloon lifted. The gondola cleared the power lines with two feet to spare!

Krassner looked limp and Frank let out a sigh of relief.

Joe shook his head. “We almost got fried!” he said.

The balloon dropped down once more and landed beside the farmhouse.

In their excitement the Hardys had paid no attention to how Fearless and Chet were faring. Now they jumped out of the basket, with Krassner on their heels, and ran to avoid the collapsing envelope.

Only then did they notice the other balloon. It was descending rapidly over the pond.

Splash!

Chet and Fearless hit the water like home-coming astronauts!

CHAPTER VIII

A
Tough
Break

FRANK and Joe raced toward the pond, followed by a farm boy and his two sisters dressed in Levis. When they reached the water's edge, Fearless was splashing toward shore.

“Where's Chet?” Frank yelled.

Fearless glanced back, reversed his course, and swam furiously to the spot where the basket had sunk. The Hardys dived in at the same time and with powerful crawl strokes reached it seconds later. They gulped in deep breaths of air and aimed for the bottom.

Meanwhile the three youngsters ran for their rowboat which was tied to a small dock.

“Jenny, Wendy,” the boy shouted, “if we get the balloon out, maybe we can keep it!”

“Don't be silly, Kurt,” the elder girl said as they pushed the boat into the pond. “Come on, Wendy, we'll row.”

In the clear water, Frank and Joe saw Fearless trying to free Chet's foot which had become entangled in the coil of rope lashed to the side of the gondola. Frank helped give a final tug, and Chet, nearly unconscious, was whisked to the surface.

He was quickly towed ashore and pulled up onto the grass, where he lay gasping.

“You took in a lot of water,” Frank said. “Just lie still for a while.”

In the confusion of the rescue, no one had paid any attention to Krassner. Suddenly they heard a feeble call. “A pill! Give me a pill!”

Joe ran to the man, who was lying helpless on his back and quickly gave him the medicine. Minutes later Krassner sat up shakily. “Someone's out to get me!” he moaned. “My heart can't take this terror much longer!”

“Don't worry, Mr. Krassner,” Joe said. “We'll get to the bottom of this whole thing yet.”

While the farm children were busy retrieving the sunken gondola and the deflated envelope, the balloonists talked about their scary adventure. Joe was of the opinion that the serpent gang was only out to frighten Krassner.

“With a telescopic sight they couldn't have missed,” he reasoned. “Besides, they didn't bother to pursue us any farther when we descended.”

“You may be right,” Frank said.

Krassner turned the situation into a feeble jest. “Well, if they tried to scare me, they certainly succeeded.”

“But why, Mr. Krassner?” Fearless asked. “What do these men have against you?”

Krassner avoided answering the question, and the boys busied themselves with the balloons. First they folded up Krassner's craft, then set about to help Jenny, Wendy, and Kurt drag the other one up onto the shore.

“I haven't seen your mom and dad,” Joe said.

“They're in town with the truck,” Kurt said. “Wow, wait till they hear what happened. Are finders keepers?” he added mischievously.

“Hey, this is no toy!” Fearless chuckled. “But for a reward, how would you like a ride some time next week?”

“Oh, that'd be great!” Wendy's eyes sparkled.

“Look, here come the State Police,” Jenny declared.

Two squad cars drove right up to the pond, and a pair of uniformed officers plied the balloonists with questions about the mid-air assault. During the interrogation, the farm children said they had noticed the weird serpent balloon about four or five times in the past month.

But no one could shed any light on its owners, or why they had shot at Krassner. The man himself made no mention of the Ruby King.

A few minutes later the pickup trucks appeared and the equipment was loaded. It was dusk when they reached the balloon club, where the gear was stowed away.

“So long, everybody,” Joe said as he and Frank went to their car.

“I'm going to your house first,” Chet said. “I want to be in on the rap session with your dad.”

“You ought to go home and hit the sack,” Joe advised. “You've had quite a day.”

“No, really, I feel fine now. I'll phone my folks so they won't worry.”

Chet followed the Hardys to their house. When the two cars pulled into the driveway, Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude ran out to meet them.

“You had us worried to death!” Mrs. Hardy said. “We heard a radio report that several bal loonists had an aerial war!”

“You were in itâyes you were!” Aunt Gertrude stared at them piercingly, then shook a skinny finger. “Now tell us all about it!”

“I guess the State Police released the news,” Frank said and reported what happened. “Where's Dad?” he added.

“Out looking for you,” Laura Hardy replied.

“Did he talk to Sam over the radio before he left?”

“Yes. It seems Sam had some success in his surveillance.”

“Let's get in touch with him right away,” Joe said.

They used the set in their car and called Radley. There was no reply. They tried again. Nothing!

“Either his set's out of order or something's happened,” Frank declared.

Chet, meanwhile, had wandered into the house looking for food. Aunt Gertrude, who had anticipated their need for sustenance, had ham sandwiches ready for them. Chet phoned home, then called out, “Come on, fellows. Let's eat!”

“Forget it,” Joe replied. “Something might be wrong at our surveillance post. We're going over there right away.”

“Wait for me!” Chet grabbed a fistful of sandwiches and wriggled into the back seat.

The three boys ate on the way. When they reached the street behind the old building, Frank turned off the lights and they crept cautiously toward the alley leading to the back entrance.

Armed with flashlights, which they used only sparingly, they ascended the crooked, creaking stairs. The rotting rooms smelled damp and unpleasant. All was quiet.

On the third floor Frank's light flashed into the room where Radley was stationed.

The boys gasped. Sam lay unconscious on the floor, a deep gash on the side of his head.

Chet said, “I think he's dead!”

“He's breathing,” Frank assured his pal. As the Hardys administered first aid, Frank noticed that blood had congealed around the wound.

“Joe, this must have happened a while ago,” he said and ripped off a shirttail. He tore it into strips and fashioned a bandage. As he applied it, Radley moaned and his eyelids fluttered.

“He's coming to,” Joe said.

They helped the man gingerly to his feet and Frank said, “Chet, grab my flashlight and round up the equipment while we take Sam to the car.”

“Will you be back?”

“Sure. You can't carry it all yourself.”

Chet listened to their creaky footsteps fade away on the stairs. Then he shone the light around the room looking for the cameras.

“Holy crow!” he murmured. “I can't see them anywhere. They've probably been stolen.”

He got down on his hands and knees and felt about the wooden floor until he came to an old door. It had been broken down and lay propped against the wall in one corner. Chet lifted it. Underneath was the still camera, its long lens sticking out like a telescope!

“Sam must have had enough time to hide it,” he thought as he picked it up. Then he froze. Were those voices drifting up from below?

He did not move a muscle, hardly daring to breathe. Now he could hear voices distinctly. They were not Frank's and Joe's. There were quiet whispers, interspersed with oaths!

Then everything was silent for a while, until footsteps sounded again. “The Hardys must be coming back!” Chet thought.

All at once angry shouts filled the old house, punctuated by scuffling and banging.

Chet grabbed the camera and raced downstairs. On the second floor landing he found Frank and Joe dazed and sprawled out on the dirty floor.

The Hardys pulled themselves to their feet slowly. “What a blitz!” Frank murmured, rubbing his head.

“How many of them?” Chet asked.

“Four dirty bums.”

Joe grasped his jaw and moved it from side to side. “Nothing broken, I guess,” he said. Then he felt in his pockets. “But my wallet's missing. And so's my watch!”

“Mine, too,” Frank said. “Those rats. Probably the ones who conked Radley.”

“I found one camera under a door,” Chet said. “But the movie equipment's gone.” He handed the instrument to Frank.

Frank and Joe decided there was no point in chasing the hoodlums in the darkness. They had too much of a head start. The three boys walked down the rickety stairs to go home. Suddenly an ominous rumble filled the old building. The next moment plaster began falling on their heads. One wall of the stairway was moving inward!

“Run, fellows!” Chet yelled and braced himself against the wall. “I'll hold this till you're out!”

The Hardys dashed down to the rear entrance. Then Chet took his shoulders from the wall and ran. But he did not have enough time. Wood and plaster filled the stairway.

Frank and Joe turned in horror to see their friend imprisoned in the debris! Only his head showed above the rubble!

The dust and dirt made Chet cough, but he managed to shout, “Help! I'm stuck!”

BOOK: The Clue of the Hissing Serpent

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