The Ghost at Skeleton Rock (14 page)
Read The Ghost at Skeleton Rock Online
Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
He translated, “We let you go. But you must leave the island and never come back!”
“You have our promise,” Frank assured him fervently. “We'll go tomorrow.”
As soon as they were untied, the boys hurried off down the beach. Both were baffled by their close brush with death and its relation to Hamilton. Was he more deeply involved than the natives had indicated?
“And why did they get so excited just because I mentioned Skeleton Rock?” Joe puzzled.
Frank shook his head in bewilderment. “Search me, unless the smuggling gang fooled them into thinking that any outsiders are dangerous. Or, maybe âSkeleton Rock' is a sacred name.”
As they neared Hamilton's villa, they saw a lighted cigar glowing in the dark on the front terrace.
“Have an interesting walk?” the sportsman greeted them.
“We sure did!” Frank said dryly.
A Puerto Rican servant escorted them to a guest room next to Chet and Tony's. Chet was moaning in distress when the Hardys went in to see him.
“Feeling any better, Chet?” Joe inquired sympathetically.
“Worse!” the plump boy replied. He was stretched out on the bed like a beached whale, in a pair of flowery pajamas provided by their host.
Tony was not so ill as Chet, but he looked worried. As soon as the servant was out of earshot, he whispered to Frank and Joe:
“Listen! I went out on the dock for some fresh air and noticed that Hamilton's red boat looked awfully shiny in the moonlight. When I touched it, the red paint came off on my finger!”
The Hardys' eyes widened with interest. “Was it blue underneath?” Joe asked breathlessly.
“Before I had a chance to find out, I heard someone behind me and turned around. It was Hamilton!”
CHAPTER XVIII
A Weird Vision
“HAMILTON!” exclaimed Frank. “Do you think he was spying on you?”
Tony shrugged. “I'm not sure. But he was right there watching when I tested the paint.”
The Hardys, having heard what the natives had said about Hamilton, were not surprised. This latest information definitely seemed to put their host under suspicion!
Joe urged that the boys confront Hamilton immediately.
But Frank was more cautious. “Hamilton has a whole crew of servants. If they're part of the gang, they could do plenty!”
“What's the difference?” Joe said stubbornly. “If Hamilton is a member of the gang, we're in danger, anyhow. Maybe he even slipped something into those lobsters Chet and Tony ate!”
Tony gasped. “You mean we've been poisoned?”
“Not deadly poison, but something he hoped would make all of us sick enough so we couldn't do any investigation and have to go home.”
Frank was still doubtful. “In that case, why did he invite us to stay on the island?”
“So he could keep tabs on us until he had a chance to report to the gang,” Joe suggested.
In the end, Frank agreed to put the question of speaking to Hamilton to a vote. Chet was feeling too sick to care one way or the other, but Tony sided with Joe. So the three boys went off to find Hamilton. But they agreed not to arouse the man's suspicions if they could avoid it.
The sportsman was still on the terrace, finishing his cigar.
“Is Chet feeling better?” he asked affably.
“Not much,” Frank replied. “But I don't understand it. Lobster never seemed to bother him before.”
Hamilton grinned. “I think your friend had too much to eat. Lobster's very rich.”
Tony, changing the subject, told Durling Hamilton about his boat
Napoli II,
and of several exciting adventures he had had in her. Then he remarked casually, “But she needs a new paint job right now. What did you use on your motorboat, Mr. Hamilton? I noticed before that it was freshly painted.”
Napoli II,
and of several exciting adventures he had had in her. Then he remarked casually, “But she needs a new paint job right now. What did you use on your motorboat, Mr. Hamilton? I noticed before that it was freshly painted.”
The sportsman smiled. “Not the whole boat. I had the bow touched up today because of rust spots on it. By the way, Tony, you seem to be feeling better now.”
“Yes, thank you.” Casually the boy added, “Lucky for me, though, that you came out to the dock before. I felt a little woozy.”
“I was afraid of that,” Hamilton said, giving him an ingratiating smile. “As host here, it's my duty to look after my guests, isn't it?”
Hamilton seemed so frank that the boys found it hard to remain suspicious. After chatting a few minutes longer, they said good night and returned to their rooms. Chet was asleep.
In spite of the cool trade winds, both Frank and Joe were unable to fall asleep. Their minds were overactive, and they were alert for any unusual happenings. About two o'clock they were roused from a fitful slumber by a humming motor somewhere in the distance.
“It's a plane!” Joe whispered.
The boys rushed to the window. As the drone of the engine grew louder, they saw the craft swoop down as if for a landing on the airstrip. Then it pulled up abruptly and circled around. Its green starboard light began blinking.
“A message!” said Frank as the light spelled “Okay H.”
“What does that mean?” Joe asked.
“It could be Hamilton or Hardy,” Frank replied.
As they stood watching, the plane soared off and disappeared into the night. Thoroughly mystified, the two boys went back to bed, full of conjectures, mostly about their own safety. They had just fallen into a light slumber when a shriek from the next room made them sit bolt upright.
“Chet!” Frank said. “He must be worse!”
The Hardys dashed to the next room. Chet was quiet now, but trembling violently. He stood by a window, pointing.
Tony, sleepy-eyed, was already on his feet. “'Smatter, Chet?” he asked.
“A g-g-ghost!” the boy quavered. “I just saw a ghost! 0-o-o-oh, it was horrible!”
“A ghost?” Frank echoed blankly. “Good grief, what're you talking about, Chet?”
“It's true!” he insisted. “My stomach-ache got so bad I couldn't sleep, so I got up. Then I looked out the window and I saw itâa huge Indian war chief, shining all over with a white glow! I'd say the thing's somewhere up at the north end of the island.”
“If it was that far away, how could you see the thing?” asked Tony.
“Because he was so big, that's why! I'm telling you, he towered way up over the trees!” Just thinking about the fearsome sight seemed to turn Chet's face a more sickly hue than ever.
“Chet's really ill,” said Joe. “He's delirious!”
“I'm not delirious!” Chet insisted frantically. “Golly, can't you beâ”
“Okay, okay, we believe you,” Frank said soothingly. “But please go back to sleep and try to get some rest.” After a while Chet calmed down and the Hardys returned to their room.
Early the next morning Frank and Joe leaped out of bed.
“Let's get down to the dock and take a peek at that boat!” said Frank.
Without waiting for breakfast, the boys dashed out of the villa and hurried down to the pier. They ran their fingers over the red motorboat. The paint seemed perfectly dry except for a few tacky brush marks near the bow.
“I guess Hamilton was telling the truth,” said Frank. “This clears him.”
“Thanks!” said a chuckling voice.
Whirling in surprise, the boys saw their host watching them from the inward end of the pier. He strolled out to join them, his ruddy face enveloped in a friendly smile.
“Don't think I'm spying, now,” he said jovially, “but I couldn't help notice you test that paint. You're real detectives, yes sir! But you can trust old Durling Hamilton!”
Somewhat embarrassed, the Hardys asked about the plane they had seen the previous night.
“Oh, that!” Hamilton laughed heartily. “That was a friend of mineâfellow sportsman, you might sayânamed Steve Henry. He was just passing over on his way from Miami to Puerto Rico, so he stopped off to say hello. Always gives me that old blinker signal whenever he goes by this way.”
Mentally, Frank and Joe had to admit that Hamilton's answer seemed reasonable. If his friend's name was Henry, that would explain the initial H at the end of the message.
Excusing themselves, the Hardys went back to the house to see how Chet and Tony were feeling. Tony was much better, but, to their dismay, they found Chet so weak he could hardly move.
“He's really in bad shape,” Tony whispered.
Their stout chum lay almost motionless on the bed, moaning weakly from time to time.
“We'd better get a doctor, pronto!” Frank decided. “You stay here with Chet, Tony.”
He and Joe hurried downstairs and reported their friend's condition to Hamilton. “We want a doctor right away,” Joe urged.
Luckily the estate owner had a radiotelephone hookup to San Juan. He put through a call to the mainland immediately, then turned to the boys.
“There's a break!” he announced. “This doctor friend of mine I just called is taking the day off. He's fishing in his favorite spot about five miles from here. With luck, you can get back here in no time!”
He suggested the boys take his red motorboat, which was faster than their own. Frank and Joe gladly accepted and he sent word to have it fueled and readied for the trip.
“Watch out for sharks!” Hamilton warned when the Hardys prepared to shove off. “These waters around here are infested with the brutes!”
Beyond the reef, the sea turned choppy as a spanking breeze whipped the water into white-caps. Frank and Joe headed south toward Puerto Rico, following their host's directions.
Several times they saw the fins of sharks knifing past. When their craft reached the fishing spot Hamilton had described, the doctor's boat was nowhere in sight.
Joe scanned the horizon anxiously. “Do you suppose Hamilton lied to us?” he muttered.
“Just what I was wondering,” Frank replied. Suddenly he gave a cry of alarm. “Joe! The boat's leaking!”
A steady stream of water was gushing in from the motor compartment!
Hastily the boys whipped off their shirts and Joe crawled into the compartment with them to plug the leak. When he emerged a moment later, half-soaked and oil-smeared, his face was taut.
“There's a big round hole in the hull!” he reported. “Looks as if it was partly cut out with a saw, and sea pressure did the rest!”
“Hamilton!” gasped Frank.
“Sure looks that way. No wonder he was so eager to have us take this boat!”
There was no time to debate the matter further. They took off their slacks and stuffed them in the hole. But already there was too much water in the boat for them to do any good. To make matters worse, the engine suddenly stopped.
“Maybe there's a pump in the locker,” Frank suggested hopefully. He opened the seat to look, then gave a startled cry as he dragged out a red, green, and white pennant.
It was the foreign flag, with a black skeleton added in the lower right-hand corner!
“Just like the one we found in Hugo's trailer!” exclaimed Joe. “Say, what is Hamilton's tie-up with that fortuneteller?”
Frank did not reply. The plugs in the hull suddenly gave way and more water gushed into the boat. Desperately the boys groped in the locker. There were three life jackets, but no pump.
Just then the drone of an airplane drew their attention. Waving wildly, they tried to attract the pilot. Once he dipped and the boys were sure he saw them. But the silver-colored plane went on.
“I'll bet that was Hamilton!” said Frank, clenching his teeth grimly.
“Yes,” Joe stormed helplessly. “Everything those natives said about him was right! And he came out here to watch us battle the sharks!”
CHAPTER XIX
Skeleton Rock
“AT LEAST we have knives. That'll be some protection against the sharks,” Joe said grimly. “If any of them want a bite out of me they'll have to fight for it!”
“Right!” Frank pulled out two of the life jackets and handed one to Joe.
They put them on. Then, arming themselves with their pocketknives, the two boys waited tensely. By this time, the water in the boat was up to their knees.
The boys had been so busy watching the water that they had not noticed a plane approaching the area.
“Hamilton again, I suppose,” Frank said angrily as he looked up.
Suddenly Joe gave a happy shout. “It's our plane!”
The boys hardly dared believe their eyes.
“Do you suppose Dad and Jack are aboard?” Joe asked hopefully. “And they've come to rescue us?”
Frank and Joe waved their arms frantically, yelling as loudly as they could. The plane circled and swooped in low. Jack Wayne was at the controls.
“Yippee!” shouted Joe.
The pilot waved back to the boys reassuringly. Mr. Hardy was not in the plane. A moment later the cabin door opened and an inflated life raft tumbled down toward the water.
It landed with a splash several yards away from the boat, but Frank was overboard in a moment to swim to it. He climbed inside, then picked up Joe.
As soon as the boys were safely afloat, Jack dipped his wings, then began to circle the area.
“Too bad he couldn't haul us into the plane,” Joe remarked.
A half hour of anxious waiting followed. Sharks bobbed up repeatedly, close to the raft. Finally a government patrol boat appeared and Jack flew off as soon as the Hardys were helped to the deck of the rescue craft.
“Lucky you're not minus a few toes,” declared the captain with grim humor.
“How'd you find us?” Joe asked.
“Jack Wayne radioed an SOS,” the captain replied. “Better go below, fellows, and get some hot soup. We'll have you back at San Juan before you dry off! ”
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