Part 9 (1/2)
Frank, who had answered, realized the telephone had been busy. Many interested friends of the Hardys had been calling to inquire about the detective's condition.
”I got your message about the plane,” he said.
87 ”That's swell. But say, I guess I pulled an awful b.o.n.e.r.”
He apologetically told about his talk with the stranger, and described him.
”Wow!” Frank exclaimed. ”He sounds like that man who came to Slow Mo's and tried to take the mystery car!”
”I shouldn't have opened my big mouth,” Chet said in self-criticism.
After hanging up, Frank turned to Joe, told him the story, and added, ”That guy is keeping close tabs on us. I don't like it.”
The boys had scarcely returned to their work when the doorbell rang. Aunt Gertrude answered.
”Boys,” she called, ”come here!”
Hurrying to her side, Frank and Joe saw that she had a telegram in her hand.
”It's from Cousin Ruth,” she said, pa.s.sing it over to Frank. The boy read it aloud with mingled feelings. It said: HAVE CHANGED MY PLANS. DO NOT COME TO CROWHEAD. RUTH.
”Gos.h.!.+” Joe exclaimed. ”Just when we're all ready to go!”
”I wonder what happened?” Frank said, puzzled. ”Things must have straightened out in a hurry.”
”Nothing of the sort,” declared Aunt Gertrude 88 emphatically. ”Ruth is probably in the power of those bandits out there! It wouldn't surprise me if they made her send this wire!”
”You may be right,” Frank said, secretly admiring his aunt's hunch. ”Maybe Cousin Ruth was forced to tell us to cancel our trip.”
”There's one way to find out,5” Frank put in. ”Telephone Crowhead Ranch.”
”It will cost a lot,” his aunt said. ”But that doesn't matter when the poor woman's life may be in danger! Frank, phone Cousin Ruth this minute!”
Her dark-haired nephew dialed long-distance. After a short delay he was connected with Crowhead Ranch, many hundreds of miles away.
”h.e.l.lo. This is Frank, Cousin Ruth.”
”How are you? When is your father coming out here?”
”Didn't you send him a wire saying not to come?”
”No. Certainly not. The quicker he gets here the better.”
”He's not coming; we are,” Frank told his cousin. ”Dad is ill. We'll tell you all about it when we see you,” Frank added quickly to forestall any questions. ”We'll be there the day after tomorrow. Good-bye.”
When he told his brother what Cousin Ruth had said, Joe exclaimed, ”An enemy of Cousin Ruth 89 must have forged the telegram. I can't wait to get there now.”
Late the next afternoon Frank and Joe, accompanied by their mother and their aunt, went to the hospital to say good-bye to their father. Mr. Hardy was in good spirits. The doctor had said he could go home the following day.
”Keep your eyes and ears open, boys,” he advised, ”and look for the unusual. I'm sure you'll be able to clear up what's worrying Cousin Ruth.”
”We'll do our best, Dad,” Frank replied.
”Don't take any unnecessary risks,” the detective cautioned as his sons left. ”And keep me posted on what's happening.”
When the brothers reached the airport, Chet was there, grinning gleefully under a ten-gallon hat. After fond farewells to their families, the three boys boarded the plane. In a few moments the engines roared and the big craft soared into the sky. Bay-port became a speck in the distance, finally disappearing on the horizon.
The plane made several stops across the country, arriving very early the next morning at El Paso, Texas. The boys got off and looked around for a small charter craft to fly them to Crowhead. When Frank entered the administration building for information, a man approached him.
”You looking for a charter plane?” he asked.
90 ”Yes,” the boy replied. ”How did you know?”
”Just saw you fellows get off the transport,” he replied. ”Judging from the way you looked around, I figured you were hankering for a charter hop.”
”That's right,” said Frank. ”Where can I I get a plane?” get a plane?”
The man looked pleased. ”A friend of mine has a nifty s.h.i.+p,” he said. ”He'll take you wherever you want to go. And very reasonable, too.”
Something about the man's overeagerness aroused Frank's suspicions.
”I have something to attend to first,” the boy said. ”I'll talk to you later if we want to engage your friend.”
When Frank told Chet and his brother about the man's offer, they agreed that they had best be wary of the fellow.
”We'd better be careful of every move,” Frank cautioned. ”Let's look around to see what else is for hire.”
”Not me,” Chet put in. ”That breakfast on the plane wasn't enough. I'm going to drop in the restaurant here for a bite.”
The boy disappeared into the airport cafeteria while Frank and Joe strolled off to find a charter plane. Chet had just finished two orders of pancakes when he happened to glance out the window alongside him.
91 What he saw almost made him choke. There was the man he had spoken to at the roadside in Bay-port!
”I've got to tell the Hardys!” Chet thought.
At that moment the man turned, his eyes meeting those of Chet for a split second. He did not look back.
”I don't think he recognized me,” Chet told himself.
The stranger moved on, disappearing around a corner. Chet paid his check and hurried from the restaurant. It took him ten minutes to find Frank and Joe. They were talking to a young pilot standing beside a small cabin plane. Quickly he motioned Frank aside and told him about the stranger.
”That doesn't sound good.” Frank frowned. ”There's no doubt we've been followed.”
Then he turned to the pilot. ”Mr. Winger, I'd like you to meet our friend Chet Morton. He's making the flight to Crowhead with us.”
Chet shook hands with the airman as Joe said, ”Mr. Winger is a former Army pilot. He's taking us to Cousin Ruth's place.”