Part 21 (1/2)

Upon learning this, Mr. Hardy, the sheriff, Joe, and Pete went into a huddle to plan the attack.

”I must rescue Frank and Chet first,” Mr. Hardy insisted. ”I'll go in alone, with the rest of you covering my advance.”

”Not without me!” Joe declared.

Mr. Hardy tried to talk his son out of it, but Joe was adamant.

”Frank's in trouble,” Joe insisted, ”and we stick together.”

The detective agreed that he and Joe should enter the caves first. They would use the tear gas to ferret out the gang when they thought it advisable.

The Hardys advanced cautiously. When they reached the big rock, they flattened themselves out against it. Hearing nothing, they entered the first 208 cave. It was damp and cold. A large rock stood upright in the middle.

Suddenly the sound of m.u.f.fled voices came from behind it. Joe and Mr. Hardy listened, then advanced noiselessly. Joe flattened himself on the ground to avoid a direct attack, and peered around the big rock.

”Frank!” he exclaimed hoa.r.s.ely. ”Chet!”

Mr. Hardy rushed to Joe's side. On the ground in front of them, trussed with strong ropes, were the two kidnaped boys. Their legs were doubled up and their hands tied behind their backs. Handkerchiefs were fastened across their mouths, making it difficult for them to speak.

Quickly freed, Frank and Chet rose from their cramped positions and stretched. They told how they had been hustled from the stockade the evening before and half dragged to the caves, because there were not enough horses to accommodate everybody at the Indian camp.

Despite their low tones, the group was discovered by a cowboy deeper in the cave. He ran out, a bow in hand. Over his shoulder was slung a quiver. Protruding from it were half a dozen white feather-tipped arrows.

He stood transfixed for a moment. Then he shouted: 209 ”Fenton Hardy!”

”You're the one who shot my father!” Joe cried out.

”Yo' can't prove it!”

”We sure can,” said Frank. ”And you're the archer who took the prize at the rodeo.”

”Yo' bet I am!” the fellow bragged. Then he realized he had identified himself. Furious, he yelled, ”I'll fix yo' for good, you meddlin' d.i.c.k!”

The archer reached back for an arrow, but before he could draw one out, Mr. Hardy grasped the man's wrist, twisting it with such force that the fellow fell flat on his back.

As he did so, the cowboy lashed out with his feet. In a flash the detective gripped one of his boots and applied the toehold until the man yelled in pain. Using the rope that had tied his brother, Joe bound the man's hands.

By this time, Morgan's men had come running from every direction. Mr. Hardy hurried to the entrance of the cave and gave the signal to the posse. They rushed forward, grappling with the cowboys and Indians who swarmed from the caves like ants. The cowboys, who had run away from Crowhead to join Morgan, gave up without a struggle. But the Indians put up a stiff battle. When the dust had cleared, Morgan was nowhere in sight.

210 ”I know where he is,” Pete volunteered, and led the Hardys and the sheriff to a cave far back from the others. It was the one with the pa.s.sageway to the top of the rock.

”Come out, Morgan!” the sheriff roared into the cave.

”Come and get me!” a voice replied, echoing hollowly in the gloomy vault.

Mr. Hardy slipped inside. As he did, a rifle cracked, and a bullet ricocheted off the rocky wall. The detective ducked, at the same time throwing a tear gas bomb into the interior.

Morgan coughed. Then the cave echoed to his fleeing footsteps as he dashed through the tunnel. Mr. Hardy could not follow immediately into the fumes.

Soon Arrow Charlie appeared for an instant high on the roof of the rock. When the men saw the rifle in his hands they fell behind the rocks for cover. He took a couple of pot shots, then from behind a rock sneered*

”Thought you had me, eh? Well, you won't get me. I've radioed my pilot. He'll soon be here to pick me up. Then look out, Fen ton Hardy and sons!”

As he spoke, there came the sound of a plane. Frank and Joe listened intently. Was it Morgan's private plane, coming to s.n.a.t.c.h the criminal from 211 their grip the moment they had him nearly cornered?