The Melted Coins (9 page)
Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
CHAPTER XI
Footsteps in the Dark
“THAT'S a strange kind of warning,” Frank said. “It doesn't threaten us, just says get out because there's danger ahead.”
“Sounds more like a friend than an enemy,” Joe had to admit.
“That's Wallace for you,” Frank went on, glancing about to see if anyone were observing them. “He's inscrutable. You don't know if he's for you or against you.”
As Joe stood fascinated by the twisted countenance of the Indian mask, Frank put his hand on the doorknob and turned it. The hinges squeaked as the door opened an inch or so.
“He doesn't keep the place locked,” Frank remarked.
“In that case, maybe he's hiding around here and watching us,” Joe said.
“Could be,” Frank replied. “But we have no time to look for him now.” He glanced at his watch. “We'd better go or we'll miss the bus.”
Frank closed the door, gave the leering face final glance, then trotted alongside his brother back to the motel. They grabbed their bags and walked to the road in time to see the bus coming in the distance.
When they got aboard the near-empty vehicle, they thrust their luggage on a seat, then sat back to watch the scenery.
“This is the life,” said Joe. He laced his fingers behind his neck, leaned back, and closed his eyes. “No hot-rod hoods, no vandals, no creeps...”
He was jerked out of his reverie by a poke in the ribs. “Forget it,” said Frank. “Look out the window!”
Joe opened his eyes in time to see a sleek Cadillac gliding past at a speed well above the limit. He groaned.
“There goes our boy Elmont,” said Frank. “I wonder where to.”
“He just can't bear to be away from us,” Joe muttered. “Or maybe he's on his way to his uncle for another handout.”
Frank had serious thoughts about Chidsee. His car, too, was headed in the direction of Hawk Head. Might trouble be brewing there? Was he on his way to the Rideau house to contact the professors?
Frank's thoughts drifted away as the humming tires and the passing scenery lolled him into a drowsy mood. He felt his head nod and dozed.
All of a sudden the bus brakes screeched and the Hardys were pitched forward, banging their heads on the seats in front of them.
Joe's first thought was the Cadillac. Had it deliberately tried to wreck the bus?
The few other passengers, two of them thrown in the aisle, protested with shouts of anger. The Hardys left their seats and walked to the front.
“What happened?” Frank asked the embarrassed driver, who shook his head in disgust. He pointed to the roadside, where a flock of geese were waddling up the slope.
“That's what!” he replied. “They don't care if anyone's coming! I'd have had a fine bill to pay if I had sent their feathers flying.”
Frank and Joe took their seats again and Frank said, “See? Never a dull moment in Indian country.”
“Oh, quit the corn, Frank,” Joe said.
“Well, Chet would have liked it,” Frank said in mock protest.
“Which reminds me,” Joe went on, “he should be arriving at the motel any moment with our car. I hope he doesn't run into Wallace alone.”
“Don't worry. He'll probably spend his time at Mrs. Jimerson's, eating her corn soup till he busts!”
Finally, as the bus passed over the brow of the hill, the brothers saw Hawk Head in the distance. They were let off in the center of town and walked briskly toward the Rideau house. When they approached the place, the two dogs leaped playfully on them and they had to fend off their powerful bodies like defensive linemen on a football team.
“Down, fellows!” Frank ordered.
The German shepherds obeyed, and barking, circled the boys as they walked toward the doorway. Joe glanced up at the second floor. A curtain on one of the windows parted slightly.
“Don't look now, Frank, but someone's playing peekaboo upstairs,” he said.
“I wonder if they do that every time somebody comes to the house,” Frank muttered.
The noise brought Mrs. Rideau to the door. “Oh, I'm so glad you came so soon,” she said. “Doctor and I are having such trouble.” She ushered the Hardys into the living room, where her husband sat at a table, examining a pile of coins with a magnifying glass.
“Hello, boys,” he greeted them. “Have you been thinking over my idea of investing in coins as the safest possible business venture?”
“To tell the truth, Dr. Rideau,” Joe said, “we've been pretty busy on a few other things.”
The doctor frowned and put the magnifying glass aside. “You're not too young to think about investing for the future. What did you say your father does?”
“He's a detective,” Frank replied.
“Ahâwell. I hope he has some investments in the fruit of our mints.”
Mrs. Rideau steered the conversation away from her husband's favorite subject.
“Dear, I was telling them about our troubles.”
“Oh, yes. The Indians,” Dr. Rideau said, pursing his lips thoughtfully.
“Then you found out the prowlers were really Senecas?” Frank asked.
“Of course. They kept shaking their rattles.”
“Why would they want to let you know that they were Indians?” Joe asked. “It doesn't seem to make sense, Dr. Rideau.”
The man looked at him in astonishment. “Of course they'd want me to know. They're trying to get at my treasure, because they think I have the melted coins.”
“Old Spoon Mouth, you mean,” Frank said with a smile.
“Spoon MouthâMoon Faceâwhatever they call it,” the doctor said testily. “I don't have it!”
Remembering the parted curtain upstairs, Joe discreetly asked whether their tenants had heard the prowlers.
“Yes, they did. And they're mighty upset,” Mrs. Rideau replied.
Frank took up the questioning. “You say they are researchers, who also teach in college. Could that be at Zoar College in the summer?”
Mrs. Rideau seemed pleased that the boy's guess had been so accurate. “Why, yes, that's exactly what they do.”
Frank took a plunge by asking bluntly, “Do you folks know an Elmont Chidsee?”
There was not a moment's hesitation. “Yes. Of course. He's visiting upstairs right now. I understand he'll stay overnight.”
Joe rolled his eyes and said to Frank, “Oh, boyl That spells trouble!”
“Did you say trouble?” Mrs. Rideau asked.
“Yes. We're sorry you had this trouble,” Joe said quickly. “But if the police know all about it, I feel that you're safe enough, at least from outside prowlers.”
Mrs. Rideau excused herself and went to the kitchen to turn off the stove. The doctor, meanwhile, shuffled downstairs to put his coins away.
Frank and Joe had an opportunity to talk things over. “The Rideaus are very naive not to suspect their tenants,” Frank remarked.
“We'll just have to protect them,” Joe decided.
The boys laid out a plan, and when Mrs. Rideau returned, Frank said that they would like to sleep in the Rideaus' basement that night.
“That would be fine,” she said. “In fact, there's a cot in the old dental office already. We can put another one there.”
“But,” Joe added, “first we'll go into the barn as if we were planning to spend the night there. Then the prowlers will be thrown off.”
“Right,” Frank went on. “And if they should happen to break into the house, Joe and I will grab them!”
Mrs. Rideau chuckled and said, “My, you are brave boys. But our dogs would grab the ruffians before you had a chance!”
While supper was being prepared, the Hardys joined the doctor in the basement. He showed them the coin vault and took them to his old dental office, where they would sleep.
“I never sold any of my equipment,” he stated proudly, and pointed to the chair, the tools, and his drill. “That's an air drill. Fine instrument. I always bought the best.”
The Hardys returned to the dining room, where Mrs. Rideau served a succulent beef stew along with a generous green salad. All the while Frank and Joe listened for sounds from upstairs. If Chidsee was there with the professors, he was keeping mighty quiet.
When darkness came, Frank and Joe took flashlights and their bags and went to the barn. They talked for half an hour, watching the upstairs windows of the Rideau house. Several times figures moved back and forth, but they were too indistinct to be recognized.
Finally Frank said, “Okay, Joe. Ready to go to the dentist?”
“Please, not the air drill!” Joe protested.
They crept through the darkness, opened the back door quietly, and descended into the basement.
“I don't think anyone saw us,” Frank said as they stretched out on the cots.
The boys decided to spell each other with guard duty during the night. Frank slept first while Joe watched. At the end of two hours the younger boy roused his brother.
“Your turn,” he said. “I didn't hear a sound.”
Some time past midnight, Frank was startled by a faint rattling noise, then he heard footsteps coming slowly down the basement stairs. He alerted Joe and gave the high sign for quiet.
Both rose quickly and stood on either side of the door. They could hear the knob being turned.
They held their breath and tensed to spring. The door opened. Frank flicked on the light.
There stood Dr. Rideau!
“All right boys, it's only me,” he whispered hoarsely. “You can turn the light off.”
“What are you doing here?” Joe asked, irritated by the needless fright.
“I just wanted to see if you fellows were all right.”
“But what about that rattling sound we heard?”
“Hm!”
The doctor thought for a moment, then put his hands in his bathrobe pocket and jiggled some coins. “I guess this is what caused it.”
The doctor thought for a moment, then put his hands in his bathrobe pocket and jiggled some coins. “I guess this is what caused it.”
“I suppose it is,” Frank said, yawning. “Well, you'd better get back to sleep, Doctor. We'll take care of things.”
Rideau padded up the stairs and the Hardys turned off the light.
“Wow!” Joe said. “Guess I might as well stand watch now. I'm wide awake again.”
Frank laid down and closed his eyes, but only for a few moments. From the floor above came a bloodcurdling cry!
CHAPTER XII
Trustworthy Men
FOR the second time that night the Hardys were jolted into action.
“It sounds as if someone's being murdered!” exclaimed Joe as he and Frank took the steps two at a time. When they opened the kitchen door, they heard Mrs. Rideau moaning, “Oh, my poor babies!”
Frank and Joe burst into the living room to see the elderly couple in their bathrobes, kneeling beside the two dogs. Tay and Boots lay on their sides, tongues lolling, and their chests heaving with short rasping breaths.
“What happened?” Frank asked. “What's the matter with the dogs?”
Mrs. Rideau said that after her husband had gone to the basement, Tay and Boots had become restless. “I thought perhaps somebody might be prowling around outside,” she said, “so I let them out for a few minutes. When they came back, they acted strangely.”
“Do you suppose they ate anything while they were out?” asked Joe.
The Rideaus doubted this. “They've been trained not to take anything unless we give it to them,” the doctor explained.
“Well, they're sick, that's for sure,” Frank said. “Have you called the vet?”
“Not yet,” replied Dr. Rideau. “There's the number on a list beside the phone.”
While the doctor comforted his wife, Frank quickly called the veterinarian.
“I'm sorry to bother you this late at night,” he said, “but the Rideaus' two dogs are in bad trouble.” Frank listened, then he went on, “Yes, we'll bring them over right away.”
Dr. Rideau dressed hurriedly and backed the car to the front of the house. Frank and Joe, straining under the weight of the immense beasts, carried the limp forms to the waiting automobile.
“Joe,” Frank said, “you stay with Mrs. Rideau. I'll go along. I don't want to leave this place unguarded.”
By the time they reached the veterinarian's office, his lights were on. Seeing the car, he hastened outside and helped Frank with the animals, who were now rasping at an even greater rate.
“Poison,” the vet muttered. He put Tay on the table and quickly injected an antidote, and a heart stimulant. Then he did the same for Boots.
“I'll be frank with you,” he said to Dr. Rideau. “I don't know if we can save them. But I certainly will give it a good try.”
Then he asked questions about the dogs' activities. “You're sure they ate no poisoned food?”
“I'm certain of that.”
The vet examined every inch of Tay's body. Near the dog's rump his finger touched something sharp. He looked at it closely and pulled out a tiny needle.
“Here's your answer,” he said. “He's been shot by a poison dart!”
Dr. Rideau shook his fist. “Those murdering Indians!” he muttered. “They were prowling around and shot my dogs!”
“We can't be sure they did it,” Frank said quietly.
The vet also recovered a miniature missile from Boot's back. Both dogs seemed to be breathing easier now as the medication took effect.
With Frank's help, the vet placed the animals in spotless compartments in a room adjoining his office. Then he went to the phone and reported the incident to the police.
By the time Dr. Rideau and Frank returned to the house, a police car was in front and two officers with powerful flashlights were searching the property. Frank and Joe joined them, but after twenty minutes could not find any evidence of an intruder.
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