The Secret of the Caves E-Book

Franklin W. Dixon

• Herausgeber: Alien Ebooks
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The Hardy Boys
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 200

Beschreibung

When Frank and Joe Hardy try to help their father locate Miss Todd's missing brother, they find themselves tangled up with a mysterious hermit named Captain Royal. This is the original 1929 version of the classic mystery.

Leseprobe

The Secret of the Caves

“CLEAR OUT OF HERE,” CAPTAIN ROYAL STORMED, “AND DON’T LET ME CATCH YOU AROUND HERE AGAIN!”

HARDY  BOYS  MYSTERY  STORIES

THE  SECRET  OF

THE  CAVES

By

FRANKLIN  W.  DIXON

Originally published in 1929.

CHAPTER IOverboard

“Well, the stealing of autos in this neighborhood has come to an end, Frank. Wonder if anybody will ever take to stealing motorboats.”

“Perhaps, Joe. But there isn’t the chance to steal a boat that there was to steal cars.”

“Gee, now that the excitement is over I wonder what will come up next.”

“Don’t know; but something is bound to happen sooner or later—it always does.”

“Hope it comes soon—I don’t want to get rusty.”

It was a Saturday afternoon in June, one of those warm, drowsy days when even the leaves of the trees seem too indolent to stir. There was scarcely a ripple on the surface of the water, no movement but the flow of the incoming tide.

Three motorboats circled lazily about in Barmet Bay within sight of the city of Bayport. The lazy spirit of the afternoon seemed to have spread to the occupants of the boats, for they lounged about informally.

Biff Hooper, in his craft, the Envoy, had devised a way of steering with his foot while sprawled on the side cushions.

In a motorboat close by, the Napoli, sat Tony Prito, a handsome boy with dark hair, olive skin, and sparkling eyes. In the third motorboat were two lads certainly who need no introduction to readers of previous volumes in the Hardy Boys Series.

The boy at the wheel, a tall, dark, handsome lad of about sixteen, was Frank Hardy, and the other, a fair, curly-headed fellow about a year his junior, was his brother Joe. These boys were the sons of Fenton Hardy, an internationally famous private detective who lived in Bayport.

“I didn’t expect to see you fellows out on the bay this afternoon,” shouted Biff Hooper, raising his head over the side of his boat.

“Where did you think we’d be?” called back Frank. “Up in the attic, studying?”

“Thought you’d be out in your car,” and Biff grinned widely.

There was a laugh from Tony Prito, and the Hardy boys also laughed with great good-humor. Their car was a standing joke among their chums, and, as Chet Morton put it, “standing” joke described it exactly, for it seldom moved.

“Never mind,” returned Joe. “That old car served its purpose, anyway. We used it only as bait.”

“It was mighty good bait,” said Tony. “You caught some big fish with that old crate.”

“It has earned its keep,” Frank called back. “We’re going to put it on a pension and let it stay in our garage for the rest of its life, without charge.”

The boys were referring to a roadster that the Hardy lads had purchased out of their savings some time previous. It was a car that proved the old axiom that beauty is only skin deep, for although it glittered with nickel and paint and although its lines were trim and smooth, its inner workings were utterly beyond the comprehension of Bayport mechanics. For a few weeks after its purchase the car ran, eccentrically enough, but still it ran. Then, one day, for no apparent reason, it gave up the ghost and no amount of tinkering would prompt it even to move out of the garage.

However, as Joe had said, the car had served its purpose. The boys had picked it up cheaply, with a definite object in view. As told in the preceding volume of this series, “The Hardy Boys: The Shore Road Mystery,” there had been a series of mysterious automobile thefts on the Shore Road leading out of Bayport, numerous pleasure cars and trucks having been stolen, and no amount of investigation on the part of the police had succeeded in revealing their whereabouts or the identity of the thieves.

Frank and Joe Hardy, who had earned considerable local fame by their activities as amateur detectives, in emulation of their famous father, had decided to lay a trap for the automobile thieves and, buying the gorgeous rattletrap, parked it on the Shore Road for several nights, concealing themselves in the rear. After many adventures, the Hardy boys captured the thieves and recovered the stolen cars. They collected several handsome rewards for their work, so their investment in the roadster proved exceedingly profitable after all.

“The car owners around Bayport have sure been breathing easier since that affair was cleared up,” said Biff.

“I don’t think there’ll be any more car thieving for a long time,” Tony declared. “The two sleuths here put a stop to that.”

“We had a good time doing it,” Frank admitted. “I’m rather sorry it’s all over.”

“Never satisfied!” commented Biff.

He prodded the wheel with his foot and the Envoy swung about with its nose pointing down the bay. Barmet Bay, three miles long, opened on the Atlantic, and in the distance the boys could see a motor yacht that ran daily between Bayport and one of the towns on the coast, a trim little passenger craft that was proceeding toward them at a fast clip.

“Where are you going?” shouted Tony.

“Out to meet the passenger boat.”

“Race you!”

“So will we!” called Frank.

Biff abandoned his indolent posture and settled down to take advantage of his head start. His boat leaped ahead with a roar. Tony Prito had to make a half turn before he could get under way.

The Hardy boys were similarly unprepared, but they had no doubt of the ability of the Sleuth to overhaul Biff’s boat quickly. Their craft was one of the speediest in the bay, with smooth lines and a powerful engine.

They had trouble on the turn, for the swells of the other boats caught the Sleuth and put it off its course, and by the time the craft was nosing in pursuit, Biff Hooper had a good lead and Tony Prito was also ahead of them.

“Step on it!” said Joe.

Frank “stepped on it,” and the Sleuth began eating up the intervening distance. Rocking and swaying, prow well out of the water, the boat overhauled the Napoli and Frank grinned at Tony as they crept by. Their friend was getting every ounce of speed of which his engine was capable and although he jockeyed to try to put the Hardy boys off the course, they sped on and soon left him behind.

Biff had been tinkering with the engine of his craft and had evidently made a few improvements, for the Envoy was going along at a clip it had never before achieved.

“Looks as if he intends to put one over on us,” muttered Frank, as he opened up the engine to the last notch. “He’ll beat us to the boat at this rate.”

The motor yacht was about a mile away.

On through the water plunged the Sleuth, gaining slowly but surely on the craft ahead.

Once in a while Biff cast a hasty glance backward to wave mockingly at them. He misjudged an approaching wave on one of these occasions and the Envoy swerved; he lost valuable seconds righting the craft into its course again and the Sleuth gained.

The yacht was about a quarter of a mile distant when the Sleuth at last pulled up beside the other boat. Inch by inch it forged ahead until the bow of each boat was on a line with the other. Then the Sleuth’s greater speed became manifest as it pulled away, leaving Biff shaking his head in exasperation.

Suddenly Joe, who had been looking at the passenger yacht in the distance, gave a shout of alarm.

“Look!” he cried.

Frank glanced up just in time to see an immense puff of black smoke bursting from above the deck of the yacht. Then, across the waves, was borne to their ears the roar of an explosion.

They could see figures running about on the deck of the boat. One of them, a woman, ran directly to the rail and began to clamber up on it.

“What on earth—” gasped Joe.

“She’s going overboard!”

Another figure ran out, making a frantic grab at the woman who was balanced perilously on top of the rail. Then, her arms outspread, the woman jumped. The boys saw her plunge down the side of the yacht, and there was a splash as she hurtled into the water.

A moment later she emerged and they could see her swimming about and waving her arms. The Sleuth had drawn closer to the yacht in the meantime and now the boys could hear a faint cry for help.

Tensely, Frank leaned over the wheel. Great clouds of smoke were pouring from the yacht.

“We’ll have to rescue her!” he said. “It’s her only chance.”

The yacht had passed the woman by now, and although a life-buoy had been flung out it was some distance away from her. Hampered by her wet clothes, the woman was making no progress toward it. Slowly, the yacht began to circle, but the lads saw that it would never reach her in time.

The Sleuth ploughed on through the waves.

The boys saw the woman throw up her hands with a despairing gesture and disappear beneath the surface.

CHAPTER IIThe Rescue

As the Hardy boys sped toward the woman, who appeared above the surface again in a moment and began to struggle wildly, they saw that confusion prevailed on board the yacht.

Great clouds of smoke were pouring from amidship. People were running frantically about the deck. Efforts were being made to lower a lifeboat, but apparently something went wrong, for it sagged perilously and then stuck, with two sailors working hastily to release it.

But the boys’ immediate concern was the woman. She disappeared beneath the water again and they were fearful that she had gone under for the last time. Then, as the Sleuth surged forward, they saw her emerge once more. They were close enough now to see her frightened face, and, as the Sleuth sped within a few yards of her, Joe poised himself and dived.

He plunged into the water just as the woman was going down for the third time. He kept cool and, remembering the first aid instruction he had received, took care not to come within reach of the wildly clutching hands. He grasped the woman by the hair and then, keeping behind her, managed to get a grip that did not endanger himself. Had she been able to throw her arms about him, he would have been dragged beneath the surface with her.

Joe struggled toward the Sleuth. It had sped past when he dived, but Frank had quickly brought the craft around and Joe had to swim but a few strokes. Frank throttled down the engine and he was able to give a hand in assisting the woman on board. She was dragged into the boat, dripping and almost unconscious, and Joe clung to the gunwale until Frank grasped his shoulders and hauled him over the side.

In the meantime, the Hardy boys’ chums were speeding toward the yacht. The race was forgotten.

Frank and Joe did their best to revive the half-conscious woman. Her immersion in the water and the shock of being face to face with death had left her weakened, and she was moaning and murmuring as she lay on the cushions. Joe gave what first aid he could, moving her arms back and forth to restore circulation, while Frank set the course of the Sleuth in the direction of the yacht.

Biff Hooper had already reached the passenger boat. He drew up alongside, with Tony Prito, in the Envoy, not far behind. Passengers were crowding to the rail, some shouting and screaming with fright, some pleading to be taken off.

Biff and Tony were ready to offer their boats for this purpose, but they noticed that the cloud of smoke had diminished in volume. A uniformed man was bellowing through a megaphone.

“No danger!” he roared. “The fire is under control!”

But it was plain that many in the crowd were afraid there would be another explosion.

“Take us off!” screeched a wild-eyed woman. “Take us off before the boat blows up!”

She scrambled up on the rail, but the uniformed man seized her and prevented her from trying to leap overboard.

“Need any help?” shouted Biff.

“Stand by for a while,” returned the officer. “We’re getting this fire under control but we don’t know how bad it is.”

Biff and Tony, in their motorboats, cruised in the neighborhood of the yacht, as the ship’s officer asked. The passengers were milling about on deck, badly frightened, but gradually they became calmer as a steward assured them that there was no danger. The heavy cloud of smoke decreased in volume. The boat’s crew was small and the fire-fighting equipment was limited, but in a little while it became evident that the blaze was not as bad as it had seemed and that it had indeed been checked in time.

Soon the smoke cloud ceased rolling up from below.

The uniformed man came on deck again with a megaphone. He raised it to his lips and bellowed:

“Thanks, boys, but we won’t need you.”

“That’s fine!” shouted Tony, in reply. “Fire all out?”

“Tin of gasoline exploded. It didn’t spread much. We’ll be able to make Bayport under our own power.”

“Righto!” called Biff. “We’re going in now, anyway. If you need us, give us a hail.”

“We’ll do that.”

The motorboats circled away. In the distance, Biff and Tony could see the Hardy boys in the Sleuth, with the woman they had rescued.

“Your passenger is all right!” shouted Biff, to the captain. “Our chums will bring her back with them.”

He turned the nose of his craft toward the Sleuth.

The Hardy boys were doing their best to revive the woman they had rescued from the waves.

She was not unconscious but she seemed very weak and scarcely appeared to realize where she was.

She was an elderly woman, dressed in black, and although her immersion in the water had undoubtedly been a tremendous shock, the boys could see that she was of an exceedingly nervous temperament and evidently not in the best of health, for she was worn and pale.

“Where am I?” she moaned. “Where am I now?”

“You’re quite safe,” Frank assured her. “You’re in a motorboat.”

“You saved me?”

“We got you out of the water just in time.”

“I want to go to Bayport,” said the woman weakly.

“We’ll take you there,” promised Joe. “It isn’t very far away. We will take you there at once.”

“I want to go to Bayport,” she repeated. “It’s important. I have to see some one there.”

“Head the boat around, Frank,” said Joe quietly. He had seen their chums returning from the neighborhood of the yacht, so he realized that there was no further danger from the fire.

“I must be in Bayport to-night,” gasped the woman. “I must go there to see Fenton Hardy—the detective.”

Then she collapsed weakly, her eyes closed, and she was a dead weight in Joe’s arms. She had fainted.

The Hardy boys looked at one another in astonishment.

“She wants to see dad!” exclaimed Frank incredulously.

It was a strange coincidence that they, of all people, should have rescued her when she was on her way to see their father.

Fenton Hardy had many clients, some of whom came long distances to consult him. He was one of the greatest private detectives in the country and his fame was widespread. He had been for many years on the New York force and had finally achieved his ambition of setting up an agency of his own. He had moved to Bayport, on the Atlantic coast, with his family and his success had been immediate. He had successfully handled many difficult cases and his services were much in demand.

Frank and Joe Hardy, his sons, were anxious to follow in their father’s footsteps, in spite of his objections and in spite of their mother’s desire that they prepare themselves for medicine and law respectively. But the boys had a natural deductive bent and they had taken several local cases on their own initiative, succeeding so well that Fenton Hardy had finally withdrawn his objections and agreed that if, when they were of age, they still desired to become private investigators, he would not stand in their way.

The Hardy boys were introduced in the first volume of this series entitled, “The Hardy Boys: The Tower Treasure,” wherein they handled their first case of any consequence. A large quantity of bonds and jewels had been stolen from an old mansion on the outskirts of Bayport and after numerous adventures the lads traced the loot and ran the criminal to earth. Other volumes of the series have recounted their adventures in handling other cases that came their way, all of which they successfully solved.

In the volume immediately preceding the present book, entitled, “The Hardy Boys: The Shore Road Mystery,” the lads, as already mentioned, rounded up a gang of automobile thieves who had stolen a number of cars and trucks from points along the Shore Road above Barmet Bay. After that, things had been quiet around Bayport and the boys were beginning to think that mysteries were at a discount.

“We’d better get her back to Bayport right away,” said Joe, as he looked down at the unconscious woman. “She may be dying.”

“Splash some water on her face. She’s just fainted, I think.”

Joe rendered impromptu aid, but the woman was in a dead faint and he could not revive her at all.

In the meantime, the motorboat was heading back in the direction of the city. Frank had “let her out” to the utmost and the speedy craft was eating up the distance. He crouched tensely at the wheel, and sheets of spray splashed over the bow.

“I wonder what on earth she wants to see dad about,” he said to himself. Then he chuckled. “Dad will have to thank us for saving one of his clients.”

CHAPTER IIIMiss Todd

Frank Hardy lost no time on the run back to Bayport. Instead of proceeding directly to the boathouse, he docked the Sleuth at one of the city wharves. There the lads were fortunate enough to find a taxi. The woman was still unconscious when they arrived, so with the assistance of the taxi driver they lifted her out of the boat and into the car.

Frank instructed the man to drive to the office of a doctor they knew well, and there the woman received attention.

“She has evidently been under a great strain,” the doctor told them. “The shock of the explosion and her struggle in the water were just the finishing touches.”

Under his expert administrations the woman was soon revived sufficiently to sit up. She looked about her.

“What happened?” she asked weakly.

“You are in good hands, madam,” the doctor assured her. “Just be quiet for a while and you will be all right.”

In a few minutes, the woman had recovered. First of all, she insisted on thanking the boys for rescuing her.

“If it hadn’t been for these brave lads I would have been drowned. It was foolish of me to jump off that yacht, but I’ve been very nervous lately, and when I heard the explosion and saw all that smoke I lost my head completely.”

“Well,” said the doctor genially, “there’s been no harm done. You were on your way to Bayport, weren’t you, and here you are.”

“Am I in Bayport now?”

“Yes.”

“You must take me to Fenton Hardy at once, please,” said the woman, sitting up. “I must see him.”

“There’ll be no trouble about that. These boys are Fenton Hardy’s sons.”

The woman gazed at the Hardy boys in surprise.

“His sons!” she exclaimed.

“Fenton Hardy is our father,” stated Frank.

The woman was evidently astonished.

“Isn’t that strange! To think that your father should be the very man I was coming to see!”

“He’s at home now,” said Joe. “As soon as you’re feeling well enough we’ll take you there.”

“That will be good of you. I came to Bayport for the sole purpose of seeing your father.”

“Are you coming to visit us?” asked Joe.

The woman shook her head.

“No. I want to see your father on business. Important business. It is private, so I’m afraid I can’t tell you any more about it.”

The boys forbore to question her.

“I suppose I should tell you my name. I am Miss Evangeline Todd.”

They bowed in acknowledgement.

“Will you take me to your father now? I feel much better. I’m very anxious to see him at once. There is no time to lose.”

Miss Todd seemed quite agitated, and although the lads felt that a few minutes more or less would make no particular difference, they decided that it would be best to humor her. Miss Todd got to her feet, and although she was still physically weak, she evidently had a mind of her own for she was determined to remain no longer in the doctor’s office when she was so near her goal.

Accordingly, the Hardy boys helped her out of the office to the waiting taxi.

During the brief drive she repeatedly expressed her astonishment at having been rescued by the Hardy boys “of all people.”

“I’ve often heard of you boys,” she said. “You often help your father, don’t you?”

“Whenever we can,” laughed Frank.

“Well, I hope you can help him now. I want to learn the truth about poor Todham.”

The lads waited expectantly, but the elderly lady said no more about the object of her call. She seemed somewhat eccentric, and muttered to herself a great deal.

“Poor Todham,” she repeated, over and over again. “I do hope Mr. Hardy can help me. It’s all very strange.”

The car drew up at the door of the Hardy home and the boys helped Miss Todd alight. They brought her into the house and their father met them at the door, evidently surprised.

“A client for you, Dad,” explained Frank. “We picked her up just a little while ago.”

He did not tell his father just how they had “picked up” the elderly woman.

“And is this Fenton Hardy?” said Miss Todd. She grasped the noted detective by the hand. “I’ve come a long distance to see you. These fine boys of yours saved my life.”

“You’ve been in the water!” exclaimed Mr. Hardy. He called to his wife. “Laura, will you look after this lady and make her comfortable?”

Miss Todd’s clothing was not entirely dry, owing to her immersion in the waters of Barmet Bay, and when Mrs. Hardy appeared she insisted on taking the guest upstairs and providing her with a complete change of garments. Miss Todd insisted that her business could not wait, even for such an important detail as dry clothes, but the better counsel of Mrs. Hardy prevailed.

When Miss Todd came downstairs some time later she was still very weak and nervous but in a more settled frame of mind.

“If you’ll come into my office,” suggested Fenton Hardy, courteously, “I’ll be glad to hear your story.”

Miss Todd looked around.

“I had intended to keep it private,” she said; “but you’ve all been so kind to me that I’m sure it will do no harm if you all know. That is, if you would care to listen,” she added, turning to Mrs. Hardy and the boys.

Both Frank and Joe were very curious to know the nature of the mysterious affair that had brought Miss Todd to Bayport and it did not require any persuasion for them to remain.