The Secret Agent on Flight 101 (8 page)

“Let's get out of here fast!” Chet said.

“I don't like the idea of running,” Frank said, “but the odds are against us. We'll go back to the mainland and notify the police.”

Pushing the reluctant Wilkes before them, the boys hastened to their motorboat. Luckily it was undamaged by the storm. A quick check of the fuel, however, showed they could not take the northerly course Jack had suggested.

“We have just enough gas to make shore,” Frank announced.

“What about Vordo and his men?” Chet asked.

“Maybe we'll be able to slip by without their noticing us,” Frank answered.

Wilkes became arrogant at hearing that his cohorts were on their way back. “You'd better leave me behind if you know what's good for you,” he growled.

“Nothing doing,” Joe retorted angrily. “And don't try to attract the attention of your buddies. I'm sure they'd reward you for having talked,” he added sarcastically.

This frightened Wilkes. He slumped down.

While Jack circled overhead, the boys made a beeline for the coast. A little more than half an hour had passed, when Jack throttled the engines on and off several times.

“Is he having trouble?” Chet asked.

The pilot gunned the engines again.

“No!” Joe exclaimed. “He's signaling us!” Joe pointed to a small object in the distance, moving across the water. “That must be Vordo!”

Frank quickly turned the motorboat onto a different course as the approaching boat drew steadily closer. In it were four men. The pilot, a tall, massive fellow, was unmistakably Vordo. He was steering directly toward the boys' boat.

“They've seen us!” Joe cried.

Frank attempted some evasive maneuvers, while still heading for the mainland. But the other boat was faster. Although Frank spun his wheel sharply in a series of turns to port and starboard, their pursuers continued to gain.

Finally Vordo bore down, but as he did, Frank pointed skyward and yelled, “Look up there!”

Jack roared down in a screaming dive and pulled out directly in front of the powerboat. Then, just as a collision seemed imminent, Jack pulled up, missing Vordo and his men by inches. Vordo veered out of the way but Jack repeated his maneuver.

The Hardys and Chet momentarily forgot their predicament as they admired Jack's flying skill. At times he came so close to the surface that little water spouts were generated by the whirling propellers.

“Wow!” chortled Chet. “Vordo's getting discouraged.”

“I'd say he's scared to death—and who wouldn't be. Attaboy, Jack!” Joe grinned.

Again and again Jack Wayne made close passes at the powerboat, forcing Vordo and his cohorts farther away from the boys. By the time the three sleuths neared the mainland, their pursuers were lost from sight. Jack then flew high above the boys, waggling his wings in salute.

Upon reaching shore, the Hardys turned Burly Wilkes over to the authorities. A police helicopter was immediately dispatched to the islet. Soon a report was radioed in from the copter. The island was deserted, and a search of the surrounding area had revealed no clues to the suspects.

Frank asked an officer if he might make a phone call to Ty Carter's airfield. Moments later he had Jack Wayne on the wire.

“Thanks for getting us out of this one,” Frank said. “That was great flying.”

The pilot chuckled. “I don't mind a little exercise now and then.”

“Did you notice where Vordo was headed?”

“They took a northerly course, but I couldn't trail them because my fuel ran low. Sorry. I did give the police the lead.”

Frank asked Jack to meet them at the hotel. “We'll stay at least another day, in case something turns up. Better bring the car you rented.”

Next morning the Hardys received a telephone call from Ty Carter. He said a helioplane had just landed at his field.

“What's the registration number?” Frank asked excitedly.

When Carter told him, Frank noted that it was identical with that of the helioplane they had chased.

“I don't think it'll be staying here long,” the man continued. “The pilot is sitting in the cockpit. Apparently he expects some passengers to show up any minute.”

“Can you delay their take-off for a while?” Frank asked.

“I don't know. The guy seems to be in a great hurry. But I'll try.”

Jack Wayne and the boys drove to the airport immediately and ran to the operations shack.

“They're taxiing out for take-off right now,” Carter told them. He pointed through the window at the helioplane as it moved slowly toward the active runway. “I couldn't delay them any longer. The pilot asked that his plane be refueled. I told my line boys to take their time about it. But the pilot's passengers arrived.”

“Vordo and his gang!” Joe exploded.

“Let's head them off!” Frank urged.

The boys dashed to their car and drove out after the taxiing aircraft. Moments later the car came to an abrupt halt, bogged down in a stretch of marshy ground just off the airport taxiway.

“Oh nuts!” Chet blurted.

“They're getting away!” Joe shouted.

Frank jumped out and chased after the helioplane. His companions followed. He was the first to reach the craft, just as it lined up for take-off. He recognized three of the passengers—Vordo, Bleeker, and the steward Timken. Frank lunged at the plane, but stumbled, lost his balance, and fell across the tail. The aircraft was moving so fast he could not let go.

Joe, Chet, and Jack, who had continued the chase, now stopped in their tracks and watched in horror.

The plane continued its take-off run, with Frank clinging desperately to the tail!

FRANK fought back panic as the helioplane lifted off the runway. With both hands he grabbed hold of one of the elevators and hoisted his body farther onto the tail.

He could feel the pilot tugging at the control wheel, but Frank's desperate hold on the elevator kept it from moving. The pilot was forced to reduce engine power and drop back down onto the ground.

He jammed the brakes on hard, then executed a partial ground-loop to avoid going off the end of the runway. The movement flung Frank from the tail onto the grass-covered shoulder.

Getting to his feet, dazed but unhurt, he watched helplessly as the plane headed down the runway. In a moment it had left the ground and was soaring upward.

“Quick!” Frank shouted as he ran to meet Jack Wayne and the others. “Let's follow them!”

“You okay?” Joe asked.

When Frank said Yes, the four pursuers leaped into the Hardy plane and quickly took off. Ahead, Joe caught a glimpse of reflected sunlight flashing from the helioplane's metal wings.

“There it is!” he yelled.

Jack rammed the throttle ahead as far as it would go. He climbed rapidly above the altitude of the fugitives, then dived to get extra airspeed. The maneuver began to close the distance between the two craft.

“We're gaining on it!” Joe observed.

Chet pointed to the right wing of their own plane. “Look!” he yelled. “The fuel cap is loose!”

“On the left wing, too!” Joe shouted. By now both caps were vibrating furiously.

“That can't be,” Jack Wayne insisted. “I checked them myself after I refueled!”

“This must be Vordo's doing!” Frank surmised.

The next moment the two caps came loose and fluttered in the wind on the small chains which held them to the tanks. Instantly the slipstream began to drag fuel from the wings. As two gossamer-like columns sailed off into the distance behind them, Jack Wayne applied hard aileron and rudder and turned back to the airport.

“I'm landing!” he said. “We're losing every drop of gas. I just hope a spark from the engine exhaust doesn't ignite that trail of fuel, or we're goners!”

Tensely the boys watched gallon after gallon of high octane spray from the open tanks.

“How long will she keep running?” Frank asked anxiously.

“I don't know!” Jack replied. “But by the look of our fuel gauges—not long!”

Finally the airport came into view. Jack entered the traffic pattern just as their tanks ran dry. Starved of fuel, the engines sputtered, then quit completely. Fortunately, the plane was high enough to glide safely to the field.

“Whew!” Chet murmured as the wheels touched down lightly. “That's the closest I've ever come to being barbecued.”

Jack grinned. “I was once told that flying involves long hours of boredom, interrupted by moments of extreme fright.” He took a deep breath. “This was one of those moments.”

“No use trying to go back up after the helioplane,” Frank said disconsolately.

He telephoned Kenneth Dell at Great Circle Airways and told him of Burly Wilkes' capture and their father's escape.

“I learned about it yesterday,” Dell replied. “In fact, your father was in contact with me.”

“What!” Frank said excitedly. “You talked to Dad?”

“Yes. I would have told you sooner, but I didn't know where to get in touch.”

“But he escaped over five days ago,” Frank said. “Why didn't he let us know? Is he okay?”

“He's fine,” Dell assured him. “However, I don't know where he is. He wants his whereabouts kept secret. Said he'd explain everything later and asked me to inform your mother, which I did.”

Dell added that he had an important assignment for the boys, and would like to meet them at their home in Bayport the next day.

“Thanks,” Frank said. “See you tomorrow.”

Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude were overjoyed to see Frank and Joe that evening. But they were worried that Mr. Hardy was keeping his whereabouts a mystery.

“He's probably traveling incognito and in disguise,” Aunt Gertrude said.

Thoroughly exhausted by their recent adventures, the boys went to bed shortly after dinner. The next morning they enjoyed a hearty breakfast of wheatcakes and sausages, then adjourned to their father's study. Kenneth Dell arrived shortly and joined the boys in the upstairs room.

“Well, I suppose you want to hear the assignment?” he asked, smiling.

“Yes,” the boys replied, and Frank added, “What's your plan for us, Mr. Dell?”

“How would you like to fly to Scotland?”

The query caught the young detectives by surprise. “Scotland?” Joe echoed incredulously.

“That's right.” Dell rose from his chair and began to pace the floor slowly.

“Two days ago I called Scotland Yard. They told me there have been several remarkably clever jewel thefts lately in Scotland. Each of them oc curred on a day when the steward Timken was over there. The Yard checked and learned that he had visited Hexton's castle on those days.

“So we were right,” said Frank “He is one of the gang.”

“Yes, but as usual there is no usable evidence.”

“If only Frank and I could get inside that castle,” said Joe, “we could get the goods on both the UGLI operation and the robbery ring.”

“That's exactly the idea,” said Dell. “My airline is cooperating with the Scottish police and Inspector Clyde of Scotland Yard. I want you to go over as my operatives.”

“We'd sure like to take a crack at it!” Frank declared.

“What about SKOOL?” Joe asked.

Dell shook his head. “No sale. They're going straight for Hexton himself and they're sure he's not at the castle just now.”

“Have the authorities over there made any progress on the thefts?” Joe questioned.

“So far, they haven't turned up any evidence incriminating Hexton. One police official there will be working with you—Inspector Clyde. He's a member of the London Metropolitan Police—that's Scotland Yard, you know.”

The boys nodded.

“Clyde is on special assignment in Scotland to see what he can dig up on our magician friend.”

“When do you want us to leave?” Frank asked.

“One of our planes departs day after tomorrow.”

“We'll be ready!” Frank promised.

“And by the way,” the security chief added, “if you'd like to bring your friend Chet—”

“A herd of elephants couldn't stop him from coming!” Joe put in.

Dell said he would meet the boys at the Great Circle base for a final briefing the day of the flight. He then wished them luck and left.

Brimming with excitement, Joe phoned the news to Chet. “A castle in Scotland!” their chum exclaimed. “Wow!”

“Maybe we can find another magic silver bowl for you,” Joe said jokingly. “One that works.”

“Aw, come on,” Chet protested. Then he perked up. “But wait till you see some of my new tricks!”

“We'll see them when we get back,” Frank advised him. “Right now we'd better think about packing.”

“You fellows just don't have any appreciation of my uncanny skill,” Chet said and hung up.

Mrs. Hardy's and Aunt Gertrude's reactions to the coming trip were quite different. “Scotland!” the boys' aunt exclaimed. “First your father decides to play hide-and-seek, now you two want to go traipsing into danger on the other side of the Atlantic!”

Mrs. Hardy looked at her sons with a worried smile. “You know you have my permission. Just promise me you'll be careful.”

“Of course we will,” Frank and Joe assured her.

After supper they began preparations for their trip. Frank had just brought suitcases from the attic when the phone rang. He picked up the receiver.