The Hooded Hawk Mystery

Table of Contents

 

 

 

 

A trained peregrine falcon that the young detectives receive as a gift involves them in an exciting mystery. Imagine their astonishment when the swift-flying falcon brings down a homing pigeon carrying two precious rubies! Startling events that ensue indicate the gems are part of a ransom that has been paid for the release of a kidnapped student from India, who had come to the United States to complete his education. But Tava Nayyar, the son of a wealthy industrialist, is still being held captive.

Hoping to find a clue to Tava's whereabouts, the Hardys try to track down the owner of the ruby-bearing pigeon. Their every move, however, is thwarted by the dangerous criminals not only involved in the kidnapping, but also in the large-scale smuggling of aliens from India into the United States. How Frank and Joe eventually outwit their adversaries climaxes this thrill-packed mystery adventure.

Copyright
©
1971, 1954 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc., a member of The Putnam & Grosset Group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. S.A. THE
HARDY BOYS
®
is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

eISBN : 978-1-101-07648-4

 

 

 

 

“Frank, come here!” Joe Hardy called excitedly to his brother from the front porch of their home.

It was early afternoon on a hot August day, but tall, eighteen-year-old Frank ran down the stairs at top speed. He knew from the tone of Joe's voice that something unusual was happening.

When he reached the porch, Frank stopped short and stared in amazement. An expressman, who stood there, grinning, had just delivered a burlap-covered crate and a package. Joe, blond and a year younger than Frank, had already removed the burlap. In the crate was a fine, proud-looking hawk.

“What a beauty!” Frank remarked. “Is it for us?”

“It says ‘Frank and Joe Hardy, Elm Street, Bayport,' ” the expressman answered, holding out a receipt for the boy's signature. As Frank wrote his name, the man added, “This is a peregrine falcon and you'd better take good care of the young lady. She's valued at five hundred dollars.”

“Wow!” Joe exclaimed. “That's an expensive bird!”

“Who sent her?” Frank asked. He looked at the package and read the name and address aloud, “‘Rahmud Ghapur, Washington, D.C.' Never heard of the man.”

“Nor I,” said Joe. “We'll ask Dad when he gets home.”

As the expressman left, Frank opened the package. It contained several items which the boys knew were falconry equipment.

“Looks as though Mr. Ghapur expects us to become falconers,” Frank declared. “But why?”

They searched for a note in the wrappings but found none. “We'll probably get a call or a letter of explanation,” said Joe.

Frank agreed. “In the meantime, let's learn something about falcons. Dad has some books on the subject in his study.”

All this time the blackish-blue hawk, with a black-barred creamy breast, had been sitting quietly in the crate, eying her new masters. Now she raised up, fluttered her wings, and cried
keer, keer,
as if she wanted to be released.

The boys carried the bird and her trappings through the hall and upstairs to Mr. Hardy's study. Here the famous detective had several file cabinets of criminal cases and photographs of underworld characters. Frank and Joe, endowed with natural sleuthing ability, had had many opportunities to work with their father. Frank was serious and an honor student at Bayport High, while Joe was rather impulsive but always dependable. Though they had different temperaments, the boys made an excellent team.

Joe found two volumes on falconry in his father's bookcase.

He handed one to Frank and began to flip through the pages of the other book. When he came to a series of pictures of the articles that the expressman had delivered, he said:

“Look, Frank, this is the leather hood. It's put over the hawk's head, so she'll sit quietly when she's being carried. And one of these bells is fastened to each of her legs so the owner can keep track of her movements.”

Frank nodded and looked at an illustration in his book. “Here are those two leather straps. They're called
jesses.
One end of each jess is looped and tied around each of the hawk's legs. The free ends of the straps are fastened to a swivel, which consists of two rings connected by a bolt that allows each ring to turn separately. Both straps are tied to one of the rings and this long leather leash to the other ring. Pretty clever, Joe, because in that way the leash never gets tangled or twisted with the jesses.”

Joe's eyes darted toward the crate. “Think we should try these trappings on Miss Peregrine?”

Frank laughed. “Maybe. But first, let's find out some more about falcons.”

Joe, reading on, remarked, “She prefers pigeons to all other foods. But she can be brought back from a flight with any kind of meat or even the lure, if she's well trained.” He picked up the lure, a short stick on the end of which was a thick bunch of feathers.

Frank, meanwhile, was studying the falconer's glove which had come in the package. “Joe,” he said, “this glove must belong to someone from India or the Far East.”

“How do you know?”

“My book said that in those countries falconers use right-handed gloves, while Europeans and Americans wear left-handed ones.”

“Come to think of it,” said Joe, “the name Rahmud Ghapur sounds Indian—or Far Eastern.”

Frank agreed. “But the whole thing's still a mystery. Well, let's put the hawk's gear on.”

As Frank held the equipment ready, Joe carefully opened the crate door. Although not sure how to handle the falcon, he quickly grabbed both legs so that the bird could not use her talons. She struggled while Frank fastened the jesses, then tied the straps and leash to the swivel. The boys kept a wary eye on the hawk, in case she should

Joe held the falcon by both legs so she could not lash out
suddenly slash at them with her beak. But the bird made no such attempt.

“I guess the book was right when it said a falcon seldom uses its beak for defense,” Joe remarked.

After Joe attached the little bells to the hawk's legs, Frank pulled on the glove, grasped both jesses, and lifted the falcon to his wrist. She sat there proud and defiant—a truly noble bird.

“So far, so good, Frank,” Joe said. “Now what?”

“We'll take her outside and let her fly around a bit,” his brother replied. “And let's get that old block perch Aunt Gertrude once used for her parrot. It's in the cellar.”

“Good idea,” replied Joe. “Miss Peregrine can rest on it when she's not flying. By the way, the book said that hawks should get plenty of exercise.

As they started downstairs, Joe suggested they show the bird to their Aunt Gertrude, who was in the kitchen.

The boys and their pet got only as far as the first-floor hall when suddenly the falcon yanked free and made a beeline for the living room. Just then the doorbell and the telephone rang. Frank sprang toward the door and Joe headed for the phone.

At that instant the kitchen door at the end of the hall opened and a tall, angular woman rushed forward. She was Mr. Hardy's sister, who lived with the family.

“Aunt Gertrude, watch the hawk in the living room, will you?” Joe requested, picking up the phone.

“Watch
what?”
his aunt exclaimed. But the bewildered woman received no further explanation. Joe was already speaking on the phone.

“Hello, Chet. Say, someone sent us a peregrine falcon.”

“Great! What's that?” was the reply.

When Joe told him it was a hunting hawk, Chet said excitedly, “Bring it out to the farm, will you? I've never seen one.”

“We will. Got to hang up because the bird's loose. See you later.”

When Joe went into the living room, Aunt Gertrude was standing motionless staring at the hawk, which was now alternately rising and diving from windows to furniture.

“Joe!” Miss Hardy finally managed to exclaim. “Get that bird out of here at once!”

Frank stepped to the doorway of the living room and reported to Joe that the mail had come. There was a registered letter for Mr. Hardy, but nothing about the mysterious bird.