The Mystery of the Chinese Junk (5 page)

“One holds drinking water and the other extra water for the lamp,” Chet explained.

The Hardys stared at the heaped-up assortment. Chet beamed with pride as he stuffed the various objects into his kit bag.

“If all that equipment's for exploring caves,” said Joe, “what were you doing inside the well?”

Chet reddened slightly. “Well—uh—I thought I'd try chimneying. That's a way of climbing up a narrow passage by pushing your feet against the opposite side and inching up. I let myself down by the rope and it broke. Then when I tried to chimney up, I found the well was too wide. So there I was. Good thing I heard you guys talking.”

Joe grinned. “And it's a good thing our rescue rope didn't break. You put enough of a strain on it yourself, without adding that ton of hardware you're carrying!”

Chet was undaunted. “Go ahead, laugh. Spelunkers find some terrific sights underground.”

“I'll bet it is interesting,” Frank conceded. “Maybe we can all take a crack at cave exploring this fall after our Chinese junk trips are over.”

“Now you're talking!” Chet exclaimed. “There are some swell caves right around Bayport.”

Frank then told him about getting the license and running the ad. “Tomorrow let's take the
Hai Hau
on a trial run around Barmet Bay and over to Rocky Isle,” he suggested. “We can figure out how much it's going to cost us, so we'll know what to charge our passengers.”

Chet hesitated. “I half promised a couple of people to take them spelunking,” he said, grinning mysteriously. “Thought you fellows might even come along. I didn't know you'd be ready to start our ferry service so soon. I'll come if I can, but don't wait for me.”

“Okay.”

The Hardys took Chet home, then drove to their own house. The brothers found Aunt Gertrude entertaining a club friend, Mrs. Witherspoon, a widow. They greeted her, then went on to the kitchen for lemonade and cookies.

Mrs. Witherspoon had a piercing voice, and the boys could plainly hear the conversation. “... must tell you, Gertrude, about the most wonderful new doctor who's just opened an office here in Bayport! Dr. Montrose, his name is.”

“Indeed? What is he like?” Aunt Gertrude asked.

“Simply amazing! He's already helped Cora with her sciatica, and Mrs. Pritchard says he's calmed her nerves no end. You ought to try him.” Mrs. Witherspoon went on to say that the wealthy Dr. Montrose also advised his patients in financial deals. He had already sent several women to a stockbroker friend of his to make investments.

After the visitor had left, Aunt Gertrude came into the kitchen to prepare supper.

“Humph!” she said. “It's my opinion that fellow Montrose is a fraud! Probably every woman patient—and they're all widows—will lose her money! I think it's my duty to expose him.”

“You'll need proof,” Frank reminded her.

“Then I'll
get
proof!” Miss Hardy declared. “I'll turn detective and ask him here to treat me. I'll soon find out what he's up to!”

THAT evening Frank and Joe went over their list of equipment on the
Hai Hau.
“Guess nothing's missing,” said Joe.

At that moment Frank snapped his fingers. “Something very important is missing,” he said. “Our junk has no short-wave radio, and we might need one to get in touch with the Coast Guard. Let's fix up that portable set in the basement.”

“You mean the one Dad just took out of the old car he sold—the set with the Coast Guard, the police, and the Hardy frequencies on it?”

Frank nodded. Two years ago the boys' father had had a two-way set rigged up in their basement, so that he could have quick communication not only with the Bayport police, but with the cars of his operative Sam Radley and his sons.

“Swell idea!” said Joe. “Let's get started.”

The brothers worked until nearly midnight getting the portable sending-and-receiving set ready for the
Hai Hau.
Then, yawning, they climbed the stairs to bed.

The next morning Aunt Gertrude telephoned Dr. Montrose early and asked him to call at the house. He arrived before nine o'clock, just as the boys were ready to leave. Mrs. Witherspoon was with him.

“I was in the doctor's office, Gertrude, when you phoned,” the widow explained, “so I thought I'd come along and introduce you two. Believe me, you can have every faith in Dr. Montrose!”

The physician smiled confidently. He was tall and thin, with a small head perched on a long stringy neck. His eyes were sharp and piercing.

“And these are Miss Hardy's nephews, Frank and Joe,” Mrs. Witherspoon went on.

The boys shook hands, then said they were about to leave the house for several hours.

“Mrs. Witherspoon, would you be able to stay here and answer the door or phone while my aunt is consulting Dr. Montrose?” Frank requested. He did not like the idea of leaving Miss Hardy alone on her detective mission!

“Oh, I'll keep house while the doctor's here,” Mrs. Witherspoon promised good-naturedly.

Frank and Joe thanked her. Before starting off Joe hurried to the basement to turn on the short-wave set.

“I'd like to call Aunt Gertrude later and hear what she found out from that ‘stock swindler,”' Joe confided to his brother as they hurried to the dock. Frank grinned.

At the pier the Hardys found Biff and Tony polishing woodwork on the
Hai Hau.
Frank and Joe pitched in to help them, and a few minutes later Jim Foy showed up.

“Welcome aboard, honored guest,” Joe said solemnly, bowing low in Oriental manner.

The Chinese-American lad chuckled. “Boy, that's corny enough for a Grade D movie about China! Which reminds me, I wrote my uncle about George Ti-Ming.”

“Fine,” said Frank. “Let us know as soon as you hear anything.”

Jim Foy scrambled down from the dock to join the others. Frank reminded them of the Chinese newspaper item concerning Chin Gok and the smuggling plot. “Let's search this junk and see if anything's still hidden aboard.”

“Right!” Tony agreed.

The boys began a search of every crack and crevice. They were about to give up when Joe gave a shout from the bow.

“Hey, someone bring a screw driver!”

Frank grabbed one from the tool locker and hurried to join his brother in the bow. The other boys watched as Joe carefully pried loose a tiny silvery object which had become wedged between two deck planks.

“What is it?” Biff asked, staring with wide-eyed interest. Then he exclaimed, “A bullet!”

“Good night!” said Tony. “I wonder when that missed someone and landed here!”

Frank and Joe examined the bullet. “My guess is that it came from quite a distance,” Frank said. “Probably a stray intended for a practice target.”

“I hope you're right,” Biff said with an uncomfortable feeling.

Tony urged that they stop searching and set sail. But the Hardys told Biff and Tony they needed time to install the two-way radio set they had brought along.

“I figured we could use it for ship-to-shore communication with that radio setup in our basement,” Frank explained, “and also call the Coast Guard if we need to.”

The job of installing the short-wave equipment was soon completed. Tony started the outboard and they put-putted away from the dock. Once clear, the sails were hoisted and the centerboard lowered.

“Wind on the port beam,” Frank observed.

Soon they were scudding over the water at a brisk clip. It was a bright sunny day and Rocky Isle was clearly outlined on the horizon beyond the mouth of Barmet Bay.

“Let's try calling Aunt Gertrude,” Joe suggested presently. “Over an hour has gone by since Dr. Montrose came to the house. I'd like to know how she made out with her detective work.” Speaking into the mike, he said, “Hardy boys to Elm Street. Come in, please!”

There was no response, except a faint sputter of static. Repeated calls were not answered.

“Aunt Gertrude must have gone out,” said Joe.

Suddenly a hissing voice broke in, “Hardys, I warn you. Do not sail the
Hai Hau!”

The boys were electrified. “Good night! Where did that come from?” Tony exclaimed. “Your house?”

Frank became grim. “If it did, that voice might have been a prowler's. Aunt Gertrude may have run into trouble!”

“You're right,” said Joe. “We'd better get back there pronto!”

The
Hai Hau
was turned in a wide sweep, then headed back to Bayport. Biff tried to ease the Hardys' worries by suggesting that the warning had not come from the boys' home after all. “Someone who knows your frequency may just be spoofing you,” he said.

Frank and Joe were not convinced and listened carefully for any further message. Halfway back through the bay, Joe gave the radio call signal again. To everyone's amazement a familiar voice crackled over the junk's speaker.

“Hi, fellows! This is Chet Spelunker!”

“Chet! For Pete's sake, where are you operating from?” Joe cried out.

“Your place,” the stout boy replied. “The front door was open, so I walked in. Hope you don't mind. Just then I heard your signal and hustled down to the basement.”

Joe asked, “Were you the wise guy who sent us that warning before?”

“What warning? What are you talking about?”

Chet was dumfounded when he heard of the mysterious threat received over the junk's radio. “It sure wasn't my voice you heard—I just got here,” he said. “I only stopped by to—well, to see if your aunt had any spare cake for a picnic.”

“Where's Aunt Gertrude?” Joe asked.

“She's not around, worse luck. I guess she must be out. Didn't answer when I called her,” Chet replied.

“And no one else is there?”

“Not a soul. And the house looks okay.” Chet chuckled. “About that picnic. Callie and Iola are going on the spelunking trip with me.”

Callie Shaw, an attractive blonde, was Frank's favorite date. The couple usually double-dated with Iola and Joe.

“Some guys have all the luck,” Joe remarked.

“Well, see you later!” Chet called. “I'll close the door.”

The plump youth signed off, leaving Frank and Joe more mystified than ever. Where was Miss Hardy? Who had left the door open? And who had sent the strange radio threat, and from where?

Biff spoke up. “Since everything is okay at your house, Frank and Joe, let's continue our trip to Rocky Isle.”

The Hardys agreed, though they would have preferred going home to be sure nothing had happened. Once more the junk was turned and the boys tacked out of the bay and emerged onto the open sea. Rocky Isle lay about five miles distant. The northern end of the small island was a tumbled mass of rock, rising to a sheer cliff, on which stood a white lighthouse. The southern portion of the land was flat and sandy. The only home on it, which was near the shore, was occupied by the park keeper, Dave Roberts.

“Might be a good idea to practice landing at the public wharf,” Frank suggested.

Tony laughed. “You mean we'd better look good when we bring our first load of passengers?”

The wind continued while they crossed the stretch of open water. As they neared the southern end of the island and approached the boat landing, Frank told Biff to cut the engine.

“Let's try it under sail,” he said.

Frank swung the junk's nose around into the wind to lose headway and ordered the others to slacken off on the sheets. As they did, the wind shifted. A sudden gust sent the junk straight toward the quay!

“We'll crash!” Jim cried.

Acting quickly, Joe shoved the fenders over the side, grabbed a bamboo boat hook, and staved off the shock of impact. With a creaking scrunch the junk swung into position alongside the stone pier!

“Whew! Let's not do
that
again!” he gasped.

“Nice going, boy!” Tony clapped Joe on the back. “With you aboard, what is there to worry about?”

The boys practiced several more landings, both with and without the motor. All went off smoothly. Satisfied, they headed back toward Barmet Bay.

Two miles from the island, a motorboat came racing up astern and pulled alongside the junk. Aboard were two men in Coast Guard uniforms. One, wearing the insignia of a chief petty officer, hailed them in a loud voice.

“Heave to! We're coming aboard!”

THE boys aboard the
Hai Hau
were surprised at the unexpected order. The Coast Guard officer's scowling manner hinted at trouble.

“Anything wrong?” Frank called across the water as Tony cut the outboard.

“We're checking on all private craft in the Bayport area!” the man shouted back. “That junk isn't properly documented and you're subject to a fine. The
Hai Hau
will have to be taken back to the base in tow!”

Biff reddened angrily. “What do you mean? We have everything required.”

“We got our Certificate of Award of Number in New York,” Tony called.

“Tell that to the warrant officer!” the man retorted. “We're still taking you in! You'll have to prove what you're saying.”

He poised in the stern, ready to leap aboard the junk as his mate steered closer to the
Hai Hau.

“Wait a second!” Joe ordered. With sharp eyes he had looked over the other craft. “That's no Coast Guard boat you're in,” he said. “Where's your official ensign?”