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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

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BOOK: The Mystery of the Spiral Bridge
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“Not offhand. But there are plenty of unusual rock formations. In fact, plans are underway for developing an immense park—sort of a tourist attraction—featuring the peculiar formations.”
“Near the highway construction site?” Frank asked.
“Quite near.”
As the Hardys put away the apparatus, the extension phone rang. Frank answered. “Hello.... What was that? ... I can't understand you.... Wait a minute.” He turned to Sam. “Sounds like your wife, but she's awfully upset.”
Sam grabbed the phone. “Hello? ... Ethel?” A frightened look came into his eyes. “I'll be right over. Try to keep calm!”
He wheeled about to face the boys. “Something's happened to my wife. Let's hurry!”
The three pounded downstairs. While Joe sped into the house to pick up the tape recorder, Frank and Sam ran to the car.
“Aunt Gertrude!” Frank exclaimed, “We have to rush over to Sam's. Something's wrong. Wait here at the house, and don't let anybody in until we return!”
Miss Hardy got out of the car. “Very well. But what about Mr. Kenfield? He's coming to inspect the roof today.”
“Okay. But he probably won't have to come into the house. He'll use a ladder to get to the roof.”
The Hardys and Sam sped to the Radley apartment. It was located on the second floor. The door was slightly ajar and Radley burst in, the boys at his heels. “Good grief!” Sam cried out.
His wife was lying on the living-room floor, her feet bound together and her hands secured in front of her with stout twine.
“This could be limestone,” Joe said
“Sam! Sam!” she sobbed. “Oh, I'm so glad you're here!”
Frank whipped out his pocketknife and cut the bonds. Mrs. Radley, still trembling with fright, was helped to her feet. Joe hastened to get her a glass of water, while Sam insisted she rest in an easy chair. When Mrs. Radley had regained her composure, she told them what happened.
“I'd been out shopping for about an hour. When I returned, I was surprised to find our door unlocked, but thought I'd absent-mindedly left the catch off. I went inside and almost fainted when I saw a strange man in the living room.”
The intruder had clapped a hand over her mouth, bound her, and warned her to make no outcry.
Frank wondered whether the prowler had anything to do with the Hardys' case. “What did he look like?” Frank asked.
“He was tall, dark and—Oh, I can't tell you any more! I was so frightened.”
“He was here for a purpose, that's sure,” Sam said as he inspected the door lock. “It's been jimmied.”
Nothing seemed to be disturbed in the living room. Then the Hardys accompanied Sam into his study. One drawer of a filing cabinet was partly opened. Radley quickly examined the contents. “None of these files are missing,” he said, perplexed.
Frank pointed to the top drawer. “How about that card index?”
Sam pulled out the drawer. “You're right! There are a couple of cards sticking up, as if someone had riffled through them.”
With painstaking care, the three sleuths checked the cross index of a long list of criminals which Sam had catalogued.
“You know there's a duplicate set in your dad's office,” he told the boys.
By this time they had reached the names listed under M. “Mander—Manning—Matlack. Wait!” said Sam. “I'm missing the run-down card on Milo Matlack.”
“Who's Matlack?”
Radley gave a low whistle. “He's an ex-convict, a dangerous character—one of the worst!”
CHAPTER II
A Midnight Alarm
“IF Matlack's the bird we want, we'll clip his wings,” said Joe, “no matter how tough he is!”
“Let's not jump to conclusions,” cautioned Frank.
Sam went through the rest of the file. No other card was missing.
“We'll check the duplicate file right after we visit Dad,” Frank said.
Satisfied that Mrs. Radley was feeling all right, the Hardys left the couple. “We'll keep in touch with you about developments, Sam,” Frank promised.
The boys hastened outside to their car and soon reached the hospital's parking lot.
“I hope Dad is better,” Joe murmured as they rode the elevator to the third floor. But he and Frank found Mr. Hardy's condition the same. Mrs. Hardy was quietly talking with Dr. Bates. Both were looking gravely at the detective, who was breathing irregularly and still in delirium.
Noting Frank's and Joe's alarmed expressions, the medic assured them everything was under control. “Your dad is very ill, of course. The pneumonia we can treat, but we'll have to conduct further tests to determine the exact cause of his prolonged loss of memory.”
“How did he ever catch pneumonia?” asked Joe, stepping close to the bedside and looking down at his father's face, now flushed with fever.
“Possibly through extreme mistreatment,” the doctor said. “Mr. Hardy might have been kept in a dark, damp place without food and sufficient water.”
Frank set his jaw grimly. “Could've been an underground prison,” he declared, “which might explain the limestone in Dad's trouser cuffs.”
Just then Mr. Hardy turned his head on the pillow. His eyes were still closed. He mumbled, but as before, the words were unintelligible.
Mrs. Hardy sighed. “He's been doing that all the time I've been here,” she told her sons.
Joe placed the tape recorder on the night table next to his father's bed, and explained what he had in mind. Frank plugged in the machine. Just then a pleasant-looking nurse came into the room. She introduced herself as Miss Tice.
“I'll be on night duty here,” she said. “Is there anything special you'd like me to do?”
“Yes, please.” Frank showed her how to turn off the recorder and change the tape. He left a spare reel on the table.
“When you put on the new tape,” Frank went on, “please put the used one in the drawer so it won't be damaged.”
The boys and their mother were assured by the doctor that Mr. Hardy would respond to treatment.
“Your husband needs complete rest, Mrs. Hardy,” the physician added. “If there should be any change, we'll call you immediately.”
Joe switched on the recorder, then the three Hardys left the hospital and drove home. They found Aunt Gertrude setting the table for supper and gave her the latest report on her brother's condition.
“See anybody prowling around while we were gone?” Joe asked.
“Goodness no!” Miss Hardy said tartly. “Didn't we have enough worry for one day?” Then she added, “Mr. Kenfield was here, of course. I heard his ladder being propped against the side of the house, and I saw his truck parked in front.”
Frank only half heard his aunt's words. His memory was suddenly jogged by another thought. “Joe! Let's check Dad's files!”
Aunt Gertrude fixed her nephews with a stern gaze. “Don't be late for supper!” she ordered. “We're having lamb stew and I don't want it to get cold!”
“Aunty,” Joe said, “we're never late for lamb stew.”
He winked at his brother and followed him upstairs to Mr. Hardy's study on the second floor. From a secret compartment under a desk drawer, Frank withdrew the key to his father's extensive files.
Quickly they began looking through the cross index and the individual run-down cards.
“Nothing's been touched so far,” Joe observed as Frank deftly separated the cards.
“Yes, everything's okay through L,” Frank said, then started on the M's.
A moment later Joe exclaimed, “Hey! There's no card for Milo Matlack.”
Frank grinned. “Don't get excited. Dad took the card himself and left this memo.”
A slip of paper with Mr. Hardy's handwriting bore the notation that the detective had taken not only the card, but also the complete dossier on the ex-convict with him to Kentucky.
“I knew it!” Joe burst out. “Matlack's our man beyond a shadow of doubt.”
“Guess you're right,” Frank conceded. “So,
if
we can find Milo Matlack, we may crack this case. Something tells me it'll be no cinch.”
The brother sleuths had already solved a number of baffling mysteries, from locating
The Tower Treasure
to recently uncovering the secret of
The Haunted Fort.
As Frank locked the files, Joe grabbed the telephone and dialed Radley's number. Sam answered. Joe first inquired about Mrs. Radley.
“She's feeling better. But no leads yet to the intruder.”
“Sam, we're hot on a trail!” Joe told the operative of Mr. Hardy's memo, then asked if Sam could describe Matlack and give some of the criminal's history.
“I can't recall much detail,” Radley replied. “But I do remember that Milo has gray hair.”
“Where are we likely to find him?”
“Possibly in New York City, his old home.”
“Then that's where we'll go!” Joe declared. Sam promised to round up all the information he could on the former jailbird. Joe thanked him and hung up.
“Boys! Supper!” Miss Hardy called up.
The boys quickly washed, then hurried to the dining room. Joe held a chair for his mother, and Frank helped Aunt Gertrude place a steaming tureen of stew on the table. As Mrs. Hardy served, her sons told the women about the latest exciting developments in their father's mystery.
“There are two things Joe and I have to do!” said Frank. “Capture Milo Matlack and make him pay for what he did to Dad, and second, unearth the real story behind the bridge collapse.”
“The police should handle such a—a fiend,” Aunt Gertrude stated.
“The police can help us,” Joe said, “but we want to collar Matlack ourselves.”
Although fearful for her sons' safety, Mrs. Hardy was proud of their courage and ability. Quietly she advised them to exercise the utmost caution.
“Don't worry, Mother,” said Frank. “We will.”
After supper the boys went to their father's study and discussed the mystery until bedtime. Before retiring, Frank telephoned the hospital and learned that Mr. Hardy's condition was about the same.
Late that night the boys were jolted from a deep sleep by the shrill jangling of the telephone. Frank switched on the bedside lamp and dashed to pick up the hall extension. Joe followed.
The caller was Miss Tice, the night nurse. “You're to come right over to the hospital,” she told Frank in a tense voice.
Frank's heart sank. “You mean the whole family?”
“Certainly not,” replied the nurse. “Just you and your brother.”
“We'll be there,” said Frank and hung up. “Hurry, Joe! Something must have happened!”
Hastily the boys changed from pajamas to street clothes.
They were grimly silent as they whizzed through the streets to the hospital. There they took the elevator to the third floor. It seemed forever until they reached it and the door slid open. The boys rushed to the nurses' station.
“Is Dad—Fenton Hardy's condition worse?” Frank asked the nurse in charge. “Is that why Nurse Tice called?”
“Mercy, no!” she whispered. “If anything, your father is slightly improved.”
Although vastly relieved, Joe said wryly, “We sure had the daylights scared out of us!”
“I'm afraid we've had the daylights scared out of us, too,” the nurse replied. “Miss Tice will explain.”
On tiptoe, Frank and Joe ran down the corridor. Nurse Tice, red-faced and distraught, met them outside Mr. Hardy's room.
“Why didn't you post a guard here if you expected trouble?” she asked indignantly.
Frank gulped. “Trouble? Did somebody try to hurt Dad?”
“No, not that.”
“Tell us what did happen!” Joe said impatiently.
“A man, dressed as an intern, sneaked into your father's room, that's what!” said the nurse.
Frank drew a deep breath. “And then?”
“I was coming back after my coffee break,” Miss Tice continued, “and I saw this man in white removing the tape from the recorder. I was so surprised I cried out and he came rushing at me. I tried to stop him, but he got away.” The nurse looked puzzled. “Why anybody would steal a tape with just mumbling on it is a mystery to me!”
CHAPTER III
Who Is Felix?
FRANK and Joe stared at each other in dismay. “We should have had someone guarding Dad,” Frank said glumly.
“Well, there are two police officers here now,” Nurse Tice replied.
“Policemen?” queried Joe. “Where?”
BOOK: The Mystery of the Spiral Bridge
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