Part 13 (1/2)
”You can't make me,” Klein objected in a whining tone. ”I'd be a sure target 'cause I couldn't see him.
He'd be hiding and let me have it so quick I'd never know what hit me.”
Despite the grave situation, Frank's and Joe's faces were creased in smiles, but they faded as Snattman said, ”I'll go myself. Give me that big light!”
Suddenly a brilliant beam was cast into the attic. It moved upward, accompanied by heavy footsteps.
”Hardy, if you want to live, say sol” Snattman said, an evil ring in his voice.
No answer from the detective.
”We've got you cornered this time!”
Mr. Hardy did not reply.
”Listen, Hardy!” Snattman shouted. ”I know you're up there because you moved that bathrobe. I'll give you just one minute to come down out of that attic!”
Still no answer and an interval of silence followed.
Then came Snattman's voice again. ”This is your last chance, Hardy!”
Nearly a minute went by without a sign from the two enemy camps. Then Snattman moved up the stairs a few more steps.
”Hardy, I have a proposition to make to you,” he said presently. ”I know you don't want to die and you want those boys of yours to live too. Well, so do I want to live. So let's call it quits.”
The detective maintained his silence and Snattman continued up the steps. ”Give you my word I won't shoot. And I know you never fire first unless you have to.”
A moment later he appeared at the top of the stairs, empty-handed except for the light. In a moment he spotted the Hardys with his high-powered flashlight.
”Here's the proposition-your lives in exchange for mine and my gang's.”
”How do you mean?” Mr. Hardy asked coldly.
”I mean,” the smuggler said, ”that you are my hostages.”
”Hostages!” Frank and Joe exclaimed together.
”Yes. If my men and I can get our stuff moved away before the police or the Coast Guard might happen in here, then you can leave a little later.”
”But if they do come?” Frank asked.
”Then I'll bargain with them,” Snattman answered. ”And I don't think they'll turn me down. They don't know where you are, but I'll make them understand I mean business. If they take me, you three die!”
Frank and Joe gasped. The famous Fenton Hardy and his sons were to be used as a s.h.i.+eld to protect a ruthless gang of criminals I The boys looked at their father in consternation. To their amazement he looked calm, but his mouth was drawn in a tight line.
”It won't do you any good to shoot me, Hardy,” the smuggler said. ”Mallory said all the chambers in that gat are empty but one. If the gang hears a shot, they'll be up here in a minute to finish you all off properly.”
The Hardys realized that if Snattman's remark about the gun were true, they were indeed at the mercy of this cunning, scheming, conniving smuggler. He now started backing toward the stairway.
”I think I'm a pretty fair guy,” he said with the trace of a satisfied smile.
”And one to be hated and feared!” Joe thought in a rage. ”We've got to outwit this man somehow!” he determined.
But at the moment the possibility of this looked hopeless.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Coast Guard Action WHILE the Hardy boys had been investigating the smugglers' hide-out and had been captured, together with their father, Tony and Chet were trying their best to accomplish the errand which Frank and Joe had given them.
During the early part of their trip back to Bayport to contact the Coast Guard, the Napoli had cut through the darkness like a streak. Then suddenly Tony exclaimed, ”Oh, oh! My starboard light just went out.”
Chet turned to look at the portside. ”This light's all right. Must be the bulb in the other one.”
”That's what I was afraid of,” said Tony. ”I'll bet I haven't another bulb.”
”You mean, somebody might not see the Napoli and ram us?” Chet asked fearfully.
”We'll have to be careful,” Tony replied.
”Chet, take the wheel, will you? I'll see if I can find an extra bulb.”
Chet changed places with Tony, throttled the motor, and gazed intently ahead. The moon had not yet risen and it was difficult to see very far ahead.
”Find anything?” Chet called out, as Tony finished his round of the lockers and was now rummaging in the last one.
”Not yet.” Tony pulled out a canvas bag, a pair of sneakers, and some fis.h.i.+ng tackle. As he reached in for the last article in the locker, he gave a whoop of joy. ”Here's one bulb-just one-keep your fingers crossed, pal. If this isn't any good, we're in a mess.”
”And breaking the law besides,” Chet added.
He held his breath as Tony went forward and crawled inside the prow of the Napoli. With a flashlight, Tony found the protecting s.h.i.+eld for the bulb and unfastened it. After removing the dead bulb, he screwed in the new one. As the light flashed on, Tony breathed a sigh of relief and started to crawl out of the prow.
”Good work!” Chet said. ”It's lucky we-”
Chet never finished the sentence. At this instant he saw another speedboat loom up in front of him. Like lightning he swung the wheel around, missing the oncoming craft by inches!
”You fool!” the driver of the other boat shouted. ”Why don't you look where you're going?”
Chet did not reply. He was quivering. Besides, he had stalled the motor, which had been throttled so low it had not been able to take the terrific swerving. ”Oh, now I've done it!” the stout boy wailed.
There was no response from Tony for several seconds. He had been thrown violently against the side of the boat and was dazed. But he quickly collected his wits and crawled down beside Chet.
”What happened?” he asked.
Chet told him, then said, ”You'd better take over. I'm a rotten pilot.”
Tony took the seat behind the wheel, started the motor, and sped off toward Barmet Bay.