Part 9 (2/2)
Mr Jefferson stared at it in perplexity. ”What in the world!” he exclaimed. ”I've never seen any such individual! Did you take this photograph on Cabin Island?”
”Yes, sir,” Joe replied, and explained about the camera with the telescopic lens. The Hardys also told how they had observed Hanleigh examining the fireplace, and of overhearing Ike and Tad's conversation in the boathouse.
”The police informed me it was he who broke into my house,” Mr Jefferson said indignantly. ”The rascal!
He should be punished.”
The boys promised to do their utmost to apprehend him, and Frank told Mr Jefferson of finding the carved ice-yacht.
Their host's voice trembled with excitement. ”Johnny used to make ice-yacht models!” he exclaimed.
”Oh, oh!” Joe said sheepishly. ”Frank, I forgot to bring the model. It's still on the mantel.”
”I must see it,” Mr Jefferson said.
”Can you come to the island with us?” Frank asked.
”By all means!”
The three set off in the convertible for the boathouse. When he saw the Seagull, Mr Jefferson looked apprehensive. ”I've never been in one of these contraptions. I understand they move rather swiftly.”
”We'll put a rope seat belt on you and we'll be careful,” Joe a.s.sured him. He gave the elderly gentleman a spare helmet and goggles from the boathouse, then helped him aboard.
After a few moments of uneasiness at the speed of the Seagull and the nearness of the ice which flew beneath them, Mr Jefferson appeared to relax and enjoy his ride. By the time they swept up to Cabin Island he was almost enthusiastic. ”I never made better time in a motorboat!” He laughed.
When the three entered the cabin, Frank introduced Chet and Biff. Mr Jefferson took a long, slow look around the room, then spotted the carved vessel on the mantel. At once he hurried over to see it.
”Johnny made this!” he said with certainty, lifting the boat and running his fingers over its polished surface.
”I'm convinced he did this carving recently. It's by far his finest.”
”Did Johnny teach himself woodworking?” Chet asked in admiration.
”Yes,” Mr Jefferson replied proudly. ”The boy became intrigued with ice-yachts when he was very small.
He used to spend hours watching them on the bay, and frequently went to the local boat shop to see how the crafts were made. Johnny would come home and carve until late at night.”
Next, the Hardys showed Mr Jefferson the notebook containing the mysterious code and explained how they had found it. The man studied the book, shaking his head in amazement. ”This is the first I've heard of Sparewell in two years!” he declared. ”The cipher is a complete puzzle to me, but the book is exactly like him - methodical to the last detail.”
”Why would Sparewell make a map of Cabin Island?” Frank queried.
”I can't imagine what interest he might have had in the island.” With a sigh the old man pushed the book away. ”I'm weary,” he said. ”I'd better return.”
Once more the Hardys and Mr Jefferson set off in the Seagull towards Bayport.
Suddenly Joe shouted, ”Look out!” Frank glanced about and saw another craft skimming straight for them. Its two occupants wore woollen face masks, giving them a grotesque appearance.
With swift teamwork the Hardys swung the Seagull out of the collision path.
”It's the Hawk!” Joe gasped.
Mr Jefferson gave a hoa.r.s.e cry. ”Here they come again!”
As the other vessel swooped alongside, one of the men lifted a short stout log from his lap and hurled it at the speeding Seagull.
Thud! It was a square hit on the how. With a sickening swerve, the Seagull capsized. The temporary seat belts gave way. The Hardys and their pa.s.senger were flung across the ice!
CHAPTER XIII.
The Fleeing Ghost THE trio skidded across the gla.s.sy surface, with arms and legs flailing, until they came to a halt several yards from the overturned Seagull.
The Hardys had the breath knocked out of them but had suffered no injuries. Mr Jefferson, however, lay motionless. Greatly concerned, the boys jumped up and hurried to the elderly man's side.
”He's unconscious!” Frank said, and pointed to a swelling lump on Mr Jefferson's temple.
Joe ran to the Seagull and returned with a blanket, in which they quickly wrapped the man. Frank chafed his wrists until Mr Jefferson began to stir and moan. ”We're going to cras.h.!.+” he whispered.
”No, Mr Jefferson,” Frank said in a rea.s.suring tone. ”The ice-yacht turned over, but we're all safe.”
Their pa.s.senger raised his head and looked around. ”Will you help me up, boys?” he asked. ”I'm sure I haven't broken anything.”
Carefully the brothers a.s.sisted him to stand. ”Take it easy,” Joe cautioned. ”You had a bad spill.”
”I'm all right. Just a bit shaky.”
”We'll get you back to the cabin where it's warm just as fast as we can,” Frank promised. ”You're in no shape for a run to Bayport.” He and Joe righted the Seagull and saw with relief that the mast was not damaged.
”The runner plank's a little out of alignment,” Frank noted.
”That won't delay us,” Joe said. ”The bow's sc.r.a.ped too, but there's nothing we can't fix.”
Frank eyed the improvised seat belts which had torn loose. ”They couldn't take the strain,” he remarked.
The boys retied the ropes.
”That'll have to do for now,” Joe said. ”We were lucky this accident wasn't worse,” he added as the boys helped Mr Jefferson into the c.o.c.kpit.
”I'd like to report those ruffians,” the elderly man fumed, ”but we couldn't see their faces.”
Frank said grimly, ”We know the owners of the boat. They covered up the name, but I'd recognize the Hawk anywhere.”
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