The Missing Chums/Chapter 9
CHAPTER IX
Blacksnake Island
In spite of Aunt Gertrude's ingenious explanation of the letter, the Hardy boys were not quite satisfied. When they left the house they walked downtown, discussing the matter.
"Aunt Gertrude may be right, but somehow I think those fellows sent the letter to the house, believing dad was still there," declared Joe.
"But if they knew he was at the house, or thought he was at the house, he would know we weren't kidnapped."
"Yes, that's right," Joe admitted, puzzled. "I'm hanged if I can figure it out, but I still think there is more to that letter than Aunt Gertrude imagines."
"I have that idea myself. You noticed that they were very particular to tell how the ransom money was to be delivered. That was quite an elaborate stunt, to have the money thrown off the train at a grade crossing. That would mean that the crooks could come along in a car, snatch up the package and be away without much risk of capture. They'd hardly go to the trouble of outlining all that if they didn't mean something by it."
"Yes, if the letter was only sent as a blind to bring dad back to Bayport you'd hardly think they'd go into all that detail."
"Still," Frank pointed out, "here we are, safe and sound. Haven't been kidnapped yet, and nobody has tried to kidnap us. If that letter had been sent to Chet's people, for instance, or to the Hoopers, they would have something to worry about." Suddenly he stopped and looked at Joe. "Say!" he exclaimed. "There's an idea!"
"What?"
"Chet and Biff!" declared Frank excitedly. "Don't you see? This may have something to do with them. Chet and Biff are missing. Perhaps they have been kidnapped."
"But why should any one kidnap them?" Joe looked wonderingly at his brother.
"In mistake for us. Don't you see it? Perhaps this gang mistook Chet and Biff for you and me and kidnapped them! Then they wrote the letter to dad."
"Gee, I never thought of that!" Joe exclaimed. "I'll bet dollars to doughnuts that you're right."
"Don't you remember the day we were all out in the boat and the three men came so close to us? Remember how closely they looked at Chet and Biff? Perhaps those fellows had been tipped off that you and I were in the boat and wanted to get a look at us so they could identify us when they got a chance to kidnap us. And instead of looking at us, they picked on Chet and Biff. They knew we owned a boat, but they wouldn't know that Biff had one. Therefore they'd think that the chap at the wheel would be either you or me."
"It hangs together, all right. And then, remember when we saw those same three men hanging around the Morton farm? They must have trailed Chet home to see where he lived. And all the time they thought he was either you or me!"
"I think we're getting at the truth of it, Joe. When Chet and Biff started on their trip, those fellows followed them or lay in wait for them some place and captured them."
Just then the Hardy boys met Phil Cohen and Tony Prito in front of the fruit stand of their friend, Nick the Greek, each with a bottle of pop.
"Hello," was Tony's greeting. "Have one?" he invited, indicating the pop.
"Don't mind if we do, even if it is just after breakfast."
Nick the Greek dexterously opened two bottles of pop and slapped them down on the counter. "Hot day, eh?" he said, as the boys reached for straws.
"You bet it's hot." After a satisfying gurgle of the ice-cold pop, the Hardy boys turned to their chums. "We have a clue," declared Frank.
"About what?"
"About Chet and Biff."
"Yes?" Tony and Phil were immediately interested. "What's up?"
Frank then told them of the incident of the letter and, often prompted by his brother, explained how they had connected it with the disappearance of their chums.
"And so," he concluded, "we've figured that Chet and Biff may have been kidnapped in mistake for us."
"There's something in that, too," agreed Phil. "And here's something else that may help. I forgot about it when we were searching for the fellows the other day. Just a little while before they went on their trip I was talking to Chet and Biff and I remember that Biff said he had always wanted to visit Blacksnake Island."
"Blacksnake Island!" exclaimed Frank. "That's the place that is overrun with big blacksnakes, isn't it? Nobody ever goes there."
"That's the place, and that's why it's called Blacksnake Island. And you can't blame people for staying away from it—with a name like that. But Biff had read about it and said he wanted to see what the place was like."
"That's Biff all over," agreed Tony. "But did they decide to go?"
"Chet didn't want to go. Blacksnake Island is down the coast, and Chet wanted to go up the coast."
"Sure! That's why we searched up the coast—because Chet said that was where they were going!" Frank declared.
"Well, Biff kept on saying that he wanted to see Blacksnake Island anyway, and while Chet wasn't very much struck with the idea he might have gone there."
"Perhaps they went that way after all. I wish we'd known that when we made our first search. They might have started for Blacksnake Island and got captured on the way." Frank drained the last of his bottle of pop. "Say, I'd like to start another search for them, and go down the coast in that direction. What do you say?"
"I guess I can get away all right," said Tony. "How about you, Phil?"
"It's O.K. with me."
"We'll probably find it hard to get away," said Frank doubtfully. "We'll go home and ask mother, anyway. You see, we're supposed to stay around the house now that dad's away. But Aunt Gertrude is there and if we can make a getaway without her seeing us I guess it'll be all right."
"Look us up if you can make it."
"You bet we will! Let's go home now, Joe, and see if we can go."
The boys separated and Frank and Joe returned home. They found their mother and Aunt Gertrude still discussing the letter.
"It's absolute foolishness, Laura Hardy, that's all it is!" Aunt Gertrude declared. "You'll just scare the man out of his wits and he'll be back here on the first train."
"Well, I've sent the message, and at least I'll know where he is. I haven't had any word from Fenton since he left and it's been making me nervous."
"Fiddlesticks! The man is too busy to write."
"It isn't like him not to drop a line every two or three days. He is usually very particular about it. He always sends me a note at least twice a week while he's away."
"Well," sighed Aunt Gertrude, as though giving it up as a bad job, "I suppose you know your own affairs best; but I'm telling you I would not have sent that telegram. There!" and she picked up her knitting, the needles flashing furiously.
"What's the matter?" asked Frank.
"Little boys should be seen and not heard," grunted Aunt Gertrude, glaring at him over the tops of her spectacles.
"I sent a telegram to your father, telling him about the letter," their mother explained. "I think he should know about it. And, besides, I've been worrying because he hasn't written."
"Where did you address the telegram?"
"He gave me two addresses where I would be sure to find him in Chicago," said Mrs. Hardy. "He gave me the name of the hotel he would be staying at and he also said that Police Headquarters would reach him. I sent the same telegram to each place so I'd be sure to get him."
"Waste of money," sniffed Aunt Gertrude.
At that moment the telephone rang. Mrs. Hardy answered it. The 'phone was in the hallway and the boys could not hear their mother's words, but when she returned to the room a few minutes later they saw that she was pale with apprehension.
"The telegraph company tells me that there is no Fenton Hardy registered at the hotel and that Police Headquarters say he hasn't shown up there either," she announced gravely.
The boys looked at each other in surprise.
"That's strange," said Frank. "And he hasn't written. There's something mighty queer about this!"
Aunt Gertrude, for once, was at a loss for words. The knitting needles remained suspended in mid-air. Behind the spectacles, her eyes were wide and her mouth remained open in astonishment.
"This affair gets more puzzling every minute," remarked Frank, at last. "Of course dad might have been delayed, or he might have picked up a clue that took him away from Chicago after all. But I think he would have written."
"Perhaps he didn't report at Police Headquarters in Chicago because he was afraid Baldy Turk's gang might find out he was in the city," Joe suggested.
"There's something in that."
"But why wouldn't he be at the hotel?" asked Mrs. Hardy.
"He might be there under an assumed name. If Baldy Turk's gang are on the lookout for him he wouldn't register under his real name. They would be checking up on all the hotels to find him if they thought he was in Chicago," said Frank eagerly. "Perhaps that's why your message didn't reach him."
"Of course, that's why!" sniffed Aunt Gertrude, returning to her knitting, much relieved. "Any one might have known that. It was a waste of time to try to reach him with a telegram, and I said that from the start." The needles clashed.
"Oh, I guess we needn't worry about dad very much. He can look after himself," said Frank, with a warning glance at his brother. Nevertheless, he was deeply worried over the fact that the telegraph company had failed to locate his father. However, he was trying to make light of the matter so as to relieve his mother of worry.
Joe saw his motive.
"Sure, dad can look after himself. There's nothing to be alarmed about. He's probably keeping out of sight in Chicago for fear Baldy Turk's gang will find out he is there. If they ever knew he was on their trail they wouldn't stop at trying to kill him. He said so himself. If he tried to communicate with us it might give them just the clue they are waiting for."
"I suppose you're right," Mrs. Hardy agreed, brightening up. "Well, we won't worry about it."
"Of course we won't worry about it!" declared Aunt Gertrude. "Worry is unhealthy. Worry has sent more people to their graves than anything else. Look at me. I never worry. That's why I'm so healthy. I'll live to be a hundred."
"Yes, it would take quite a lot to kill you, Aunt Gertrude," agreed Frank innocently.
Aunt Gertrude looked up at him suspiciously.
"I don't know just what you mean by that, young man, but I'll warrant there's something behind it! What are you two rascals waiting around here for, anyway? What do you want?"
"We were just wanting to talk to mother."
"Well, go ahead. Who's stopping you? I won't listen, I'm sure. If it's none of my business you needn't be afraid that I'll listen. Not at all. Not at all. Go right ahead. Talk to your mother if you wish. Of course, if you want to leave your poor old aunt out of everything I'm sure I don't mind. I'm not interested, anyway."
Whereupon Aunt Gertrude indignantly hitched her chair around toward the window and knitted vigorously.
"Go ahead! I'm not listening. Talk away. I won't listen to a word of it," she shrilled.
Mrs. Hardy smiled.
"What is it, boys?"
"I'm not listening," declared Aunt Gertrude.
"We think we've found a new clue about Chet and Biff," said Frank. "We wanted to go on another search for them!"
"What!" shrieked Aunt Gertrude, quite forgetting that she had not been listening She wheeled about in her chair. "Go on another search for those two boys! Of all the idiotic ideas! Laura Hardy, if you let these two children go gallivanting out into the ocean again it will be against my advice."
"Where are you planning to look for them?" asked Mrs. Hardy.
"Blacksnake Island!"
Aunt Gertrude gasped. In her astonishment she dropped her knitting needles. "Blacksnake Island! Frank Hardy, have you gone completely off your head?"