The Ghost at Skeleton Rock (6 page)

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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

BOOK: The Ghost at Skeleton Rock
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Their assailants lost heart rapidly. “These guys are too tough I'm gettin' outta here!” gasped one of the ruffians. Pulling loose from the fray, he turned and ran, with Tony after him.
The baldheaded ringleader followed, with Frank at his heels. As the third hoodlum tried to join in the getaway, Joe dropped him with a flying tackle.
But the leader and the other ruffian kicked off their pursuers and leaped into a car that was waiting for them on the road beyond the parking area. At the wheel was Shanley!
Discouraged by this latest development, Frank and Tony went back to Joe, who was holding their prisoner. The fellow was bony and pinched-faced, and wore a cheap-looking pinstriped suit.
“We're taking you to police headquarters,” Joe told him.
The sullen man shifted uneasily, but kept quiet as the group headed for the taxi stand.
“By the way, fellows,” said Tony, “would you mind telling me what this is all about?”
Frank gave him a quick account of the phony detective and the unexpected attack. “Thanks for coming to our rescue. You really saved the day!”
“Ditto!” put in Joe. “If it hadn't been for you, we wouldn't have this prisoner. By the way, Tony, you'd better go tell Jack Wayne what happened. We'll be back soon.”
“Okay,” Tony agreed. “But don't let buster boy here pull any more fast ones!”
As he headed back to the hangar, Frank and Joe hustled their prisoner into one of the waiting taxis.
“Police headquarters,” Frank directed the driver.
A few minutes later the taxi pulled up in front of the brick building.
The sergeant in charge led the Hardys and their prisoner into the office of Inspector Moon, a friend of Fenton Hardy. He greeted the boys warmly, then said to a detective, “Take this man into the interrogation room and get the facts.” Inspector Moon turned back to Frank and Joe. “Now give me the whole story.”
The boys related everything that had happened at the airport terminal, including the way Shanley had led them into an ambush and then stolen the leather case.
“What did Shanley look like?” the officer asked. As Frank gave a description of the man, the inspector frowned and shook his head. “That wasn't Shanley.”
“He was impersonating him, you mean?” Frank asked. “We saw his detective's license.”
“Sure, they were the real Shanley's all right. His house was broken into last night and all his credentials stolen,” the inspector explained.
Frank and Joe asked to read the report of the robbery, but found no clues of interest. In answer to Inspector Moon's questions, they explained that they were helping their father on a case and described their brush with Hugo and Abdul at the wooded site.
“I'll put out a call for them right away,” Inspector Moon said. He picked up his phone and ordered that an alarm be sent to all radio cars.
“One thing I don't understand is why that Latin American fellow at the airport slipped me the gloves and key,” said Joe, after the officer hung up. “Couldn't he tell just by looking at me that I wasn't the right guy?”
“Maybe you do look like the right guy,” Inspector Moon pointed out.
“Wow! I never thought of that!”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Frank suddenly grinned. “Good night! My brother looking like some underworld character!” Then he sobered. “If this is some kind of a racket—like a theft ring for passing stolen goods—we now have a good description of one of the members.”
“Right,” the inspector agreed. “I'll pass the word around for the men to be on the lookout for a fellow answering Joe's description.”
“But of the criminal type, please,” Joe pleaded.
Just then the door of the interrogation room opened, and the plainclothesman came out with the prisoner.
“Learn anything?” Inspector Moon asked the detective.
“No,” he replied. “He won't even tell us his name.”
“Any identification?” the inspector queried.
“Not even a driver's license. Only thing that might help is this tattoo.” The detective pulled up the prisoner's sleeve to show a pineapple tattoo on his left forearm.
“Hmm. It's not much to go on,” the inspector said, “but check the files. Anything else?”
“Yes, sir. This prisoner was carrying these in his pocket, together with a ticket to Mexico.”
With a baffled look, the detective held up a pair of doll's glass eyes! Instantly the Hardys realized they were just like the dummy's eyes which had contained uncut diamonds!
CHAPTER VIII
Spanish Code
FRANK and Joe were excited. Here was a definite clue that tied the Eastern City holdup men to the Hugo dummy racket!
“I'd like to speak to you privately,” Frank said to the police inspector. “And bring the doll's eyes along, please.”
When they were alone in a rear office, Frank declared, “These doll's eyes prove the man you're holding and his gang are mixed up in the case Dad's working on!”
“And what about the boxes of Variotrycin in the brief case?” Joe asked.
Inspector Moon looked thoughtfully at both boys and said that he would follow through on this angle in a few minutes, then he held up the doll's eyes to the light.
“No diamonds here,” he announced. “These eyes are empty. But we still have plenty to hold Mr. Pineapple on. Maybe he'll change his mind later about talking.”
Inspector Moon asked the boys to wait while he tried to find out about the Variotrycin. He telephoned first to Watkins Pharmacy. The boys could hear both sides of the conversation.
“That stuff's pretty new,” Mr. Watkins told the inspector, “and very expensive. Far as I know, the Lexo Drug people that make it won't be supplying it in quantity until they can lower the price.”
“Where is Lexo Drug?”
Mr. Watkins said the company had a plant in Hartsburg. “If you have a prescription, I could put in a special order—”
“No, thanks,” the inspector interrupted.
Hartsburg was less than a hundred miles from Bayport. Inspector Moon then placed a long-distance call to the company.
“I'd like to speak to the plant manager,” he told the switchboard girl.
A man's gruff voice came on the line. “McCardle speaking.”
Inspector Moon introduced himself and said, “I'm calling to find out if any shipments of Variotrycin have been stolen recently.”
The plant manager asked with a sharp note of interest, “Who did you say you were?”
“Inspector Moon of the Eastern City Police Department.”
Mr. McCardle cleared his throat, then said that a special messenger carrying a consignment of their new product had been attacked and robbed late the day before.
“Where?”
“Not far from here.”
“Have you contacted your local police?” Inspector Moon asked.
“No. We just heard about the robbery. But I'll do so right away,” McCardle replied.
He asked why the inspector had called him, and was told about the boxes in the brief case. “Well, we hope that you find the thief!” the manager said, then said good-by.
Inspector Moon turned to the Hardys. “How about you fellows helping on this?”
“We will!” the young sleuths promised.
Before leaving headquarters, Frank asked if he and his brother might borrow the doll eyes for further examination. Inspector Moon readily agreed.
The boys taxied back to the airport. Before the group took off for Bayport, Tony telephoned his father to tell what had happened. As he returned to the others, he said, “Lucky break! Dad says I can have the rest of the day off!”
On the flight back, the Hardys brought Jack and Tony up to date on the developments in the mystery.
“Things certainly worked fast,” Jack remarked.
“Yes, and thanks a lot for your help,” Joe said as they landed at Bayport. Frank echoed his words.
The pilot grinned. “Any time, fellows.”
As the boys drove off, Joe suggested that they stop at Mr. Hanade's puppet-repair shop to see if he could tell them anything about the glass eyes, and to return his instruction sheet, which they had copied.
A few minutes later the trio pulled up outside Mr. Hanade's shop. The pleasant Japanese proprietor greeted the Hardys and Tony politely. “You learn something from instruction sheet for Hugo dummy?” he asked as Joe thanked him for lending it to them.
“Not yet, but we have something to show you,” Joe replied. He took out the glass eyes. “Ever seen any like these before?”
Hanade studied them curiously. “Very old,” he murmured. “Nowadays, manufacturers do not make dolls' eyes like this. Too expensive to make out of colored glass. Besides, glass breaks too easily.”
He explained that eyes for modern dolls are normally made of plastic with a metal rod running through them. The rod is usually hinged, with a small counterweight to make the eyes open and close.
Frank murmured to Joe, “With a rod running through them, there wouldn't be much room inside for hiding anything.”
Joe nodded and said aloud, “If they're plastic, they're probably solid instead of hollow.”
“That is correct,” said Mr. Hanade.
“Do your Hugo dummies have solid plastic eyes?” Frank queried.
“Yes. Modern merchandise, of course.”
“Any idea where these glass eyes might have come from?” Joe went on.
“Would be hard to say. Most likely from some old-fashioned American dolls or puppets.”
“One more question,” said Frank. “Where are the Hugo dummies made?”
“Mexico,” said Mr. Hanade. At once the boys thought of the prisoner who had a ticket to Mexico. The man went on, “The dummies are fashioned of papier-mâché.”
The boys thanked him for his help and left. As they drove home, the group exchanged views on the mystery.
“I still can't figure out why those guys in Eastern City were so anxious to get their hands on that Variotrycin,” Joe remarked. “Maybe there's a connection between the drugs and the diamonds.”
“And how about that pirate flag in Abdul's trailer?” Tony reminded them. “Where does that come in?”
Frank shrugged. “You've got me, pal!”
When they reached the Hardy home, Chet Morton was rocking himself in the glider on the front porch.
“Hey, watch it, boy! You want that thing to collapse?” Joe called out laughingly.
“Where've you fellows been?” Chet complained. “I've been waiting here so long I'll bet I've missed my lunch.”
Frank sniffed the appetizing aroma of freshly baked cake that floated out through the open windows. “Better come in and eat with us, Chet.”
The stout teen-ager needed no urging. Soon all four boys were seated around the dining-room table, with Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude, spooning up hearty servings of delicious onion soup and enjoying crusty French bread.
“How did things go, boys?” Mrs. Hardy asked.
After hearing all about the exciting adventures, both women gasped and Aunt Gertrude said, “I warned you! If you'd only pay attention to me, you wouldn't risk your lives that way.”
Mrs. Hardy looked troubled. “Please be careful,” she cautioned.
After luncheon the four boys trooped upstairs to Frank and Joe's room. Once again the young sleuths took out the two instruction sheets for the Hugo dummies and began to compare them.
“I'll read off the extra words included on Chet's sheet that are different, Frank, and you write them down,” Joe suggested.
“Okay, shoot!”
Frank wrote the words in a column with the translation opposite each one:
“What is it—a code?” asked Tony.
“Perhaps,” said Frank. After a couple of minutes of trying various combinations, he added, “I can't make any sense out of them.”
“Let's try the first letters of each Spanish word reading down,” suggested Joe. “C,a,b,e,z,o, n,a,n—”
“The first word,
Cuerpo,”
said Tony, “and the last word,
Número,
both have capital letters. Maybe that means the N should be separated from the rest.”
Frank wrote it down this way:
CABEZONA
N
“I believe you're right,” he commented, and consulted a Spanish dictionary. He read aloud:
“‘Cabezon, na,
adj. big-headed; stubborn;
n.
collar of a shirt; opening in a garment for the
passage of the head; noseband (for
horses
)
.'
”
“Doesn't make sense to me,” said Frank, “unless the code refers to the Hugo dummy's big head.”

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