Part 4 (1/2)
”Hanleigh is sure paying us a lot,” Ike was saying. ”I'd like to find out what for.”
”Who cares, as long as we get our money?” Tad responded lazily.
”Look - figure it out. All we're doing is giving him a boat ride now and then.”
”So maybe Hanleigh likes our company.”
Ike was evidently becoming impatient with his partner's indifference. ”If he likes us so much, why does he make us freeze in this boathouse while he's inside the cabin? I'd like to sneak up there and see what cooks.”
”You worry too much, pal,” Tad drawled. ”We bring him here, we get our money. It's simple.”
”Well, stop being simple and maybe we'll learn what's so valuable that Hanleigh's after!” Nash exploded.
”We can cash in even more on this deal if we play it right!”
Now his buddy sounded annoyed. ”To me, play it right means follow Hanleigh's orders. Trip up the Hardys, stay in the boathouse, don't ask questions.”
”You'll do what I say,” Ike threatened harshly, ”-or else!”
”Okay, cool off,” was the quick reply. ”Have it your way.”
The Hardys and their pals were excited. So Tad Carson and Ike Nash were working for Hanleigh. That was why they had slashed the Seagull's sails Frank beckoned the others away from the boathouse. When the four were out of earshot of the troublemakers, he urged, ”We'll deal with those two later. Let's go up to the cabin and see what Hanleigh's doing!”
”Right!” Biff declared fiercely. ”And if that guy gives us trouble, just let me handle him!”
”Easy, Biff,” Frank cautioned. ”We'll never learn anything if we tangle with him.”
Quietly the boys climbed the tree-covered slope. At the edge of the woods they stopped and peered at the cabin. Stealthily the quartet moved to a window and looked into the long living-room at the front of the building.
Hanleigh stood with his back to the boys, facing a huge stone fireplace. He held a measuring tape and was apparently determining the dimensions of various sections of the stone chimney. Frequently he paused to write in a small notebook.
The big man began to pace back and forth, then stood still. By the motions of his right forefinger, the watchers could tell that he was counting the stones in the height and width of the fireplace, mantel, and chimney. Finally he got down on hands and knees and explored the interior of the fireplace.
Once Hanleigh shook his head as if baffled. The boys were so intrigued, they unconsciously crowded closer to the window until their faces were pressed against the pane.
Suddenly a gust of wind blew open the door of the cabin, which Hanleigh evidently had left ajar. Startled, the man leaped to his feet and whirled around. He glanced towards the door, then gave a shout of consternation, glimpsing the boys a second before they ducked out of view.
Hanleigh strode across the room and rushed outside.
”Hold your ground!” Frank advised his companions. ”Don't let him bluff us. He shouldn't be here.”
The intruder was red with wrath as he confronted the boys. ”Can't you pests mind your own business?”
he snarled. ”I told you to stay off this island!”
”So you did,” Frank returned coolly.
”Then what are you doing here?” roared Hanleigh. ”You're a bunch of meddlers! Now, get out! And if I catch you again, I'll-”
”You'll do nothing, Mr Hanleigh,” Joe interrupted. ”You have no right to be on this island, but we have.”
”Prove that!” Hanleigh scoffed.
Joe took the key to the cabin from his pocket and said, ”Mr Jefferson gave this to us. Do you have a key, too? Or did you break in?”
”Young punks!” the man snarled.
Quickly Joe examined the front door and saw that it had not been forced. ”My guess is that Mr Hanleigh has a skeleton key,” he said. ”The lock is a simple one.”
The intruder flushed but said nothing.
”Suppose you tell us what's so interesting about Cabin Island, Mr Hanleigh,” Frank suggested. ”And what's special about the fireplace?”
Hanleigh licked his lips nervously. ”Jefferson collects antiques. Maybe I collect fireplaces, that's all. I made him a good offer for this place. He's a fool to turn it down.”
”Well, stay off this property!” Joe snapped. ”Mr Jefferson instructed us to order you to leave if we found you here.”
Hanleigh clenched his fists and glared at the boys. ”Think you're pretty smart! Well, you fellows are going to be sorry! This spooky place is no picnic. You'll be glad to clear out!”
Before the boys could retort, the man turned on his heel and strode down the hill towards the boathouse.
The sleuths watched from outside the cabin until they saw the Hawk glide out of the cove into the open bay with the trio aboard.
”We made short work of that crew!” Biff said cheerfully.
The Hardys did not comment, but inwardly felt certain they had not seen the last of Hanleigh.
”Short work nothing!” Chet exclaimed. ”It's starting to get dark, and we still haven't had lunch! Come on, have a heart! I need supper.”
”You won't be able to cat until we get our supplies unloaded and organized,” Frank reminded him.
Joe grinned. ”I'm starved, too. Let's get the stuff.”
Everyone set to work with a will and plodded back and forth between the Seagull and the cabin. Joe noticed that Chet was less talkative than usual. ”Thinking about your meal?” he asked.
Chet s.h.i.+vered. ”Not now. I'm thinking about Hanleigh's warning. What did he mean about 'this spooky place'?”
”Probably meant it's haunted,” Biff said sombrely. ”You wouldn't mind a couple of ghosts for company, would you, Chet?”
”Cut it out!” Chet quavered, glancing around into the deepening shadows.
”If there's a ghost here, I wish he'd show himself,” Frank put in, chuckling. ”We could use an extra hand.
But this should be the last load.” He let the main sheet go completely, so the sail would be free to swing in the wind.
The four were halfway to the cabin, their arms filled with provisions, when suddenly Chet stopped short and gave a startled cry. The provisions he had been carrying fell to the ground.