The Melted Coins (14 page)

“What harm did the Indians ever do to you?” Glade asked. “Didn't you know Old Spoon Mouth holds a special place in the life of their councils?”

“Stop it!” Dr. Rideau said and looked up pleadingly to the police chief. “I didn't do it! My wife didn't do it, either!”

“Then I suppose Spoon Mouth just walked into Mrs. Rideau's closet,” Professor Mockton said. “I must say I didn't realize it was all that valuable as a collector's item.”

“It's not!” Dr. Rideau exclaimed. “How could I expect to get rid of it anyway? It's stolen goods!”

“You collectors have ways of doing things. You're all in cahoots. All over the world!”

“Lay off, will you!” Chet growled. Like the Hardys, he hated to see the old couple being badgered.

Although Paul Jimerson was happy that his tribe's heirloom had been recovered, he, too, felt sorry for them.

“Have the Rideaus been advised of their rights?” he asked.

“Yes,” Chief White replied.

“I don't want any lawyer,” the doctor declared. “I'm not guilty of anything!”

“Well,” Mockton said stiffly to the boys, “if you're so concerned about these criminals, that's okay. But we're moving out of this house!”

He went to the telephone, called a drive-it-yourself service, and asked for the use of a small truck. “We'll be there shortly,” he said and hung up. Then he and his roommate strode out to their car and drove off.

“I'm afraid you'll have to come down to headquarters with us,” Chief White said to the Rideaus.

They looked shocked and Frank spoke up quickly. “Chief, I just can't believe that these people are guilty.”

The officer looked pained. “Neither can I!”

“They've been framed, I'll bet,” Joe put in.

Frank requested the police to wait a little while before booking the couple. “Give us a few days and I feel sure we can get to the truth of the matter. The Rideaus won't run away.”

“Of course we won't,” the doctor spoke up. “I give you my word.”

The chief nodded. “Well, Henry, your word's been good in this town for the last thirty years. I guess we can take it for a few more days.”

The Rideaus smiled in relief and thanked the officer and the boys. When the police had gone, they retired to their bedroom to rest.

Paul took the opportunity to telephone his brother Rod in Cleveland. He was not at home, but his landlady took the message. Paul told her to have Rod return immediately, so that the Indians could claim Spoon Mouth. “I'll meet him at our mother's house,” he said and hung up.

By the time they were all ready to leave for Yellow Springs, Mockton pulled up into the driveway with a small panel truck, marked U-Drive. Glade followed in their car.

“We're going to get out of here just as soon as we can,” Mockton told the boys. “And my advice to you is this: have nothing to do with the Rideaus.”

“They were pretty nice to you,” Joe said tartly.

“That's right,” Frank added. “You seemed to turn on them in an awful hurry.”

“You understand,” Glade said, mounting the front porch, “that we must protect our professional reputation.”

“Big deal,” Chet muttered as the professors disappeared into the house.

When Paul and the three boys arrived at Mrs. Jimerson's place, the Indian woman insisted that they remain overnight. Paul broke out some sleeping bags and the tired young sleuths slept comfortable and deeply.

At midmorning a car pulled into the driveway, throwing up dust as the driver stopped short. Rod Jimerson jumped out, trotted to the front of the door, and entered.

“Hi, Mother. Hi, fellows!” he said. “I hear you found old Spoon Mouth!”

“Not us,” Frank replied. “The pplice did.”

When Rod was told all that had happened, he shook his head and looked sheepishly at the Hardys. “I was wrong about the whole deal. And I had been so positive, too. I guess I owe Lendo Wallace an apology.”

“Poor Lendo,” Chet spoke up. “He took a terrible beating.”

“And you know something?” Joe said. “That could hardly have been done by Dr. Rideau. We're not to the bottom of this case yet!”

The Jimerson brothers talked quietly about what to do next. It was agreed that Rod should call a meeting of all members of the False Face Society. “We'll form a delegation,” he said, “go to the police in Hawk Head, and claim Old Spoon Mouth!”

His mother beamed at the suggestion. “We'll hold a ceremony and celebrate!” she said.

Frank, Joe, and Chet joined the two Senecas as they set out in the Hardys' car to round up members of the society. Lendo Wallace was still too weak to attend.

Early in the afternoon six Indians of the False Face Society met at the Jimerson place. The Bayport boys joined the caravan of three cars which drove to Hawk Head and parked near police headquarters. Chief White was surprised to see them.

“We are going to celebrate the recovery of Spoon Mouth,” Rod Jimerson announced, “and we've come to claim our tribal property.”

“You can't—at least not now.”

“Why not?” Rod asked.

“Because we need it as evidence in the trial of the Rideaus,” the chief replied.

The Senecas looked at one another, then huddled in whispered conversation. Finally Rod spoke up. “We'll keep Spoon Mouth in our Council Offices, Chief. Any time you want to use the relic as evidence, we'll bring it to court.”

“Can't do that,” the officer said bluntly. “Rules are rules.”

A glimmer came into Rod Jimerson's eyes. “Perhaps you're right,” he said slowly. “By the way, Chief, I haven't had a look at Spoon Mouth yet. It might have been damaged. Will you at least show it to me?”

“Of course,” White replied. He walked to a safe in his office and returned holding the gold relic in both hands.

With a lightning fast movement, Rod took the relic from the officer. The sudden move jerked it from his clutched hands. It flew into the air, landed on the floor,
and broke into a hundred pieces!

With mixed looks of consternation and disbelief the boys, the Indians, and the law officers stared at the fragments.

“That's not Spoon Mouth!” Paul Jimerson thundered. “It was a fake! A cast!” He bent down to scoop up some of the pieces.

The chief looked embarrassed. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I thought we had the real thing!”

“What'd I tell you?” Chet said triumphantly. “The Rideaus are not guilty. Somebody planted the fake Spoon Mouth in their house!”

“I can see it all now,” the chief said. “Whoever stole the Rideaus' collection did this to stall for time.”

Joe could keep quiet no longer. “And I think I know who it was—the professors!”

“Careful, Joe,” Frank warned. “Don't accuse anyone without concrete evidence!”

The police chief said that no charges would be preferred against the Rideaus. “I suggest we go out immediately and tell them they have been exonerated.”

“That's fine,” Frank agreed. “But they're still stone-broke. We simply have to find the doctor's coins!”

The Senecas offered to join the Hardys and Chet in a search for the loot. They all drove to the Rideaus' place. Joe rode with the police chief and filled him in on their discovery of the root cellar and their suspicions of the professors.

When the Rideaus were told what had happened, they stared at each other in relief. But it took a while for the good news to sink in.

Finally Mrs. Rideau smiled wanly and said, “I told you so. The doctor and I wouldn't steal anything!” Then she burst into tears.

The Hardys and Chet led the police and the Indians in a search of the barn. Frank and Joe dropped down into the pit and surveyed every inch of the dank walls, while the Senecas scoured the outside. They were still looking for an opening when Paul Jimerson ran into the barn, poked his head down into the root cellar, and said, “We found a loose boulder outside behind the barn. It leads to a tunnel!”

Just then Frank and Joe heard thumping beneath their feet. Using their hands, they quickly scraped aside some dirt, found a ring in a wooden trap door, and pulled it up.

About five feet below them crouched Rod Jimerson and two other Senecas. They had gone into the tunnel, which connected the root cellar to the outside!

“That's how the thieves got out with the loot!” Rod declared.

“What do you mean?” Joe asked. “There wasn't any loot in here, so far as we could see.”

“It was stored in the tunnel. Look at this!” Rod held up a roll of coins in his right hand.

“So the profs hid the coins in the tunnel. Probably they waited until after dark, when nobody was here but the Rideaus, then drove their rented truck around to the back of the barn and loaded up! ”Joe concluded.

“Moving out gave them a good excuse for hiring the truck,” Chet remarked.

“At the time I thought it seemed odd,” said Frank, “but I assumed the profs had a lot of books and other stuff to cart off.”

Frank and Joe scrambled out of the root cellar and showed their find to Chief White and his men, who were standing outside the barn. He agreed with their theory.

“It was an inside job, all right,” he said. “The use of that tunnel convinces me of it!”

He went into the house, telephoned the U-Drive company, and after a short conversation with them had an alarm sent out for the truck.

Frank glanced at his watch. “I'd like to talk to the manager of that outfit personally,” he said. “Maybe we'll catch him before closing time if we run over there right away.”

“Good idea,” the chief agreed. “Let me know if you pick up anything of interest.”

Frank, Joe, and Chet said good-by to the rest of the search party and drove to the rental agency. It was located at the front of a large garage. The manager was young and cordial.

“I told Chief White all I know,” he said. “Those two fellows showed me their drivers' licenses, and paid a deposit.”

“Did they drop a hint as to where they were going?” Frank asked.

“No.”

“Did you ask for a reference?” Joe inquired.

“I'll bet they gave that Zoar College!” Chet put in.

The manager shook his head. “Not at all. But there's one thing I forgot to mention to Chief White. Mr. Mockton gave me his company card!”

The man opened his desk drawer and pulled it out. “‘Canadian Gold Mining Company, King Louis Street, Montreal,' ” he read. “Mockton said he was a sales representative.”

“We've got them!” Chet exulted. “If the police cover all routes from here to Montreal, they're bound to catch those crooks!”

Frank thanked the manager and the three boys stepped outside. “Listen, Chet,” said Joe, “the thieves wouldn't be so obvious and leave that card if they were really driving to Montreal.”

“The address is probably a phony,” Joe put in.

Chet looked crestfallen. “That's right. I guess it's not such a hot clue, after all.”

“We'll pass it on to Chief White, but I have no high hopes,” Frank said. “Before we go over to headquarters, let's stop at the Rideaus. Maybe Paul and Rod are still there. I want to ask them a couple of more questions about Wallace.”

When they reached the doctor's home, the Indians and the police had departed. The Rideaus were in the living room, smiling and happy over the return of their dogs.

“Dr. Corey's son brought them back a little while ago,” Mrs. Rideau said, fondling Tay's ears, while Boots lay at his master's feet.

“But now there aren't any coins to protect,” Chet said.

Frank gave him a jab in the ribs and hissed, “I'm going to put you in for the diplomatic corps. You say the sweetest things just at the right moment!”

Chet flushed. “I didn't mean it that way,” he mumbled. “Anyway, Frank and Joe will find your coins, Doctor.”

The boys turned to go. “We'll be at police headquarters for a while,” Joe said, “in case someone wants to get in touch with us.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Mrs. Rideau said. “You had a phone call.”

“Who was it?” Frank asked.

“A man named Hadley or something like that.”

“Sam Radley. Did he leave a message?”

“You're to phone him.” Mrs. Rideau gave Frank a memorandum containing Sam's Bayport number.

He quickly returned the call. Radley said that he had completed his Cleveland mission and that the photos had been checked out. The professors, indeed, were swindlers.

“You can say that again,” Frank said. “They just made off with a fortune in coins.”

Sam whistled as Frank quickly filled him in on the latest events.

“Of course they never were professors to begin with,” Sam said after Frank had finished. “They used that as a cover. They have records as long as your arm and aliases to match. But both have some college education.”

“Maybe they went to Zoar!” Frank quipped.

Radley laughed. “They had their fingers in all kinds of pies, including the mail fraud gang which your father investigated!”

“How do you like that! We're helping Dad's case after all!”

“I should say!” Radley praised the boys for spotting Snedeker as a phony. “We've got his nibs in handcuffs. The Magnitude Merchandising Mart was one of his setups. Your father arrested him personally.”

“What about his creepy office boy—the jerk that ran us off the road?”