Part 6 (2/2)
”You bet your boots I will!” Malone gave a wry laugh and added, ”One accident is enough - and besides, I'd sure hate to spend New Year's Day on crutches!”
”Thank you for bringing the message,” Frank said as their visitor left the cabin. Malone responded with a parting wave.
When he was out of sight, Biff turned to the Hardys. ”What about that double-talk?” he questioned. ”Do you really believe your father would send a man to tell you some nonsense about cats and mice?”
”Somebody's pulling your leg!” Chet put in.
”No, it's on the level,” Frank a.s.sured them. ”Joe and I were pretending we didn't understand while Mack was here. Dad sent the message in code because he wanted it to be kept secret for his own reasons.”
”Then what does it mean?” Chet asked impatiently.
”That someone is out to get Frank and me - we're the 'mice,'” Joe explained. ”We're to play along with the person - he's the 'cat'and trap him. In other words, 'feed' him and avoid being 'eaten' by him!”
”Fine!” declared Biff. ”But who is this cat? How will you find out?”
”We already know,” Frank said.
”You do!” Chet exclaimed.
”Dad frequently uses the phrase about the cat in secret communications to us,” Joe explained. ”The clue is in the adjective. Here, it's 'alley cat'-the second syllable, 'ley,' could stand for the 'leigh' in Hanleigh!”
”Wow!” Chet was wide-eyed. ”So Hanleigh is out to get you!”
”How does your dad know?” Biff asked.
Joe shrugged. ”He must suspect the fellow is after something in the cabin or on the island.”
”Hanleigh's a rough customer,” Frank said grimly. ”That's probably why Dad used code. He was afraid Hanleigh might intercept Mack and force the message from him.”
Chet groaned. ”Maybe we ought to pack up and go home while we can!”
”We can't leave,” Frank insisted. ”If Hanleigh is trying to steal something from Mr Jefferson, we must stop him.”
”But aren't you supposed to keep looking for Johnny?” Biff asked. ”And he doesn't seem to be on Cabin Island. So what do you do next?”
”First, I'd like. to search more thoroughly,” Frank replied, ”to make sure Johnny hasn't come here since yesterday.”
The boys donned their outdoor clothes and spread out over the whole island. Each examined a separate area, searching among bushes, trees, and rocks. Then they combed the entire sh.o.r.eline. When they finally rejoined each other, none had any clues to report.
After they returned to the cabin, Chet asked, ”Now what?”
”We could investigate the mainland near here, and inquire if anyone has seen Johnny,” Frank proposed.
”But I'm wary of leaving the place unguarded, especially after getting Dad's message,” Joe said with a look of concern.
”We can use my binoculars from the mainland,” Chet reminded him, ”to keep an eye on the island while we're away.”
”Good idea!” Joe exclaimed. ”And I'll bring the camera Dad gave us. Maybe we'll get some good photos with the telescopic lens.”
Frank remarked, ”Our going away might lure Hanleigh here, and that may be what Dad wants.”
”Let's have lunch before going off on this wildgoose chase,” Chet urged. ”I'll make some sandwiches.”
”Good and thick, please,” Biff begged. ”All that tramping around has really given me an appet.i.te!”
”Same here,” said Joe.
The boys ate quickly, then set off in the Seagull. The strong wind of the previous evening had blown most of the snow to the land, so the ice-yacht tacked across the surface at a fast clip.
Looking back at the island, Chet remarked, ”It's sure a pretty place.”
Tall pines looked like white pyramids, and bare branches were coated with ice which glittered in rainbow colours.
On the mainland directly opposite, the four boys spotted a shack built of sun-bleached boards. Smoke was drifting upward from its rickety stove-pipe chimney.
Frank slackened sail and let the Seagull drift to a complete stop.
”Let's talk to the person who lives here,” he suggested, putting down the brake.
A bearded man came out and called, ”What can I do for you?”
”We're looking for a boy who is missing from his home in Bayport,” Joe replied. ”His name is Johnny Jefferson. He's fifteen, and big for his age.”
The shack owner shook his head. ”I haven't seen a soul as long as I've been here this winter. Say, have you asked Pete Hagen? He lives in a fis.h.i.+ng hut just about a mile down sh.o.r.e.”
Frank thanked the man and sailed the Seagull in that direction. The boys found Hagan fis.h.i.+ng through the ice just beyond his home. He had seen no boy of Johnny's description.
As the four companions glided away, Joe said, ”This is discouraging. Only thing we can do is cruise up and down the coast.”
Frank worked skilfully to keep the vessel close to sh.o.r.e while Biff scanned the woods with his binoculars. ”No one's in there,” he reported.
”Let's hike up that hill,” Joe finally suggested, pointing to a section where pine trees grew down to the sh.o.r.eline of the inlet. ”From the top we can see Cabin Island and keep an eye on it.”
Frank brought the Seagull in and braked it. The boys strapped on snowshoes and made their way up the densely wooded slope. At the top, they found themselves in the back yard of a weathered log cabin which perched on the edge of the precipice.
”Wonder who lives here,” Biff said.
”No one, from the looks of it,” Frank replied. ”But let's go see.”
The four approached the cabin. It was small and crudely built, with large c.h.i.n.ks between the logs. The place had a desolate appearance.
The boys knocked several tunes at the door, then Joe went to look through a window. ”I think the place has been abandoned,” he reported. ”There's not much furniture, and everything is covered with dust.”
”Let's go in!” Chet urged. ”My feet hurt and I'm freezing!”
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