The Secret Agent on Flight 101 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER I - A Vanishing Act

  CHAPTER II - The Hexton File

  CHAPTER III - The SKOOL Man

  CHAPTER IV - Cryptic Message

  CHAPTER V - Mysterious Rendezvous

  CHAPTER VI - Aerial Chase

  CHAPTER VII - Suspect on the Run

  CHAPTER VIII - Sailing Sleuths

  CHAPTER IX - The Lighthouse Prison

  CHAPTER X - Wing Signal

  CHAPTER XI - Important Assignment

  CHAPTER XII - A Startling Welcome

  CHAPTER XIII - Sky Spies

  CHAPTER XIV - Nerves of Steel

  CHAPTER XV - A Furious Scot

  CHAPTER XVI - Secret Compartment

  CHAPTER XVII - Night Attack

  CHAPTER XVIII - Chet’s Big Assist

  CHAPTER XIX - “Prepare to Ditch!”

  CHAPTER XX - Desperate Flight!

  THE SECRET AGENT ON FLIGHT 101

  Rarely do magicians reveal their professional secrets. Consequently Frank and Joe Hardy are amazed when a well-known magician, the Incredible Hexton, offers to reveal the secret of his “Vanishing Man Act” and invites Mr. Hardy to be the subject. When their detective father fails to reappear, his sons are convinced that something sinister is afoot, despite Hexton’s insistence that Mr. Hardy is playing a joke on them.

  While desperately searching for their father, Frank and Joe find themselves working with SKOOL, a U.S. organization of crack secret agents pitted against UGLI, an international ring of spies stealing government secrets from the U.S. and other democratic countries.

  In a lighthouse off the coast of New England and in Scotland, Frank and Joe and their pal Chet Morton grimly match wits with UGLI’s evil agents. With cool daring the three boys invade the magician’s Scottish castle, where an astounding surprise awaits them.

  The young detectives’ gripping adventures culminate in a dramatic climax when they unmask the secret agent on Flight 101.

  “Good luck, lad!” the pilot called

  Copyright © 1995, 1967 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved.

  Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc., a member of The Putnam & Grosset group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. S.A.

  THE HARDY BOYS® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.

  library of Congress Catalog Card Number: AC67-10521

  eISBN : 978-1-101-07659-0

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  CHAPTER I

  A Vanishing Act

  “How can the hand be quicker than the eye?” asked Chet Morton. “That’s hard to believe!” He climbed into the back seat of the Hardy boys’ convertible next to Joe.

  “Perhaps the Incredible Hexton will convince you,” remarked Frank, who was at the wheel. “All set, Dad?” he asked the handsome man beside him.

  “Take off!” Mr. Hardy said, smiling.

  It was Friday evening. Bayport High had closed for summer vacation the day before. To celebrate, the Hardy boys and their stout friend Chet were being treated to a magician’s show in the nearby city of Claymore.

  “I read in a newspaper,” Chet went on, “how pickpockets use sleight-of-hand methods. In fact, I have the clipping here in my—” Suddenly he sat bolt upright. “My wallet!” he cried. “It’s gone!” Frank brought the car to a stop. “Are you sure?” he asked.

  Chet searched his pockets frantically. “It’s gone all right!”

  “Probably dropped out when you got into the car,” Frank suggested.

  “Then we’d better go back,” Mr. Hardy said.

  Joe tried to hide a grin. But Chet noticed it. “Wait a minute!” He eyed Joe suspiciously. “Okay, mastermind. Hand it over!”

  Joe burst out laughing and gave his chum a brown leather wallet. “Just wanted to prove to you the hand really is quicker than the eye.”

  “You caught me off guard,” Chet replied goodnaturedly.

  Joe Hardy, blond and seventeen, enjoyed joking and was more impulsive than his dark-haired, eighteen-year-old brother. Both boys were trim all-around athletes. Chet, their schoolmate, had a chunky build and played on the Bayport High football team.

  “Let’s go, boys!” said Fenton Hardy, grinning. “Any more pocket-picking and I’ll pull you in!”

  Frank and Joe’s father was a nationally known detective who had earned his fame as a member of the New York City Police Department. After his retirement from the force, he had set up his own sleuthing organization. Both sons were following in his footsteps and already had solved many challenging mysteries on their own. Chet often joined in their adventures. Although the stout boy preferred safer pursuits, no danger could make him desert his friends.

  “What do you know about Hexton the magician?” Frank asked his father.

  Mr. Hardy said the man was a performer of some renown throughout the world, and was much acclaimed for his demonstrations of sleight of hand.

  Joe asked, “Dad, do you by any chance have a professional interest in him?”

  The detective laughed but did not reply and Joe decided not to press his query further. But he sensed that he had hit upon the truth.

  They drove into Claymore, parked in the lot behind the theater, and took their seats just as the houselights dimmed. A tall, dark figure slipped through the curtains and the spotlight blazed upon the Incredible Hexton.

  The gaunt magician wore a top hat, flowing black cape, and carried a silver-handled cane. His face sent a chill through Chet.

  Hexton had heavy brows, a sharply pointed chin, and the piercing eyes of a medieval sorcerer. He moved into his performance with a cat-like grace which indicated a disciplined and powerful body.

  The boys watched eagerly as the magician caused coins, cards, and other small objects to disappear, then reappear at his fingertips.

  The finale of the show was billed as the “Vanishing Man Act.” Hexton led a short, muscular aide to a boxlike compartment, walled in on three sides by curtains and on the front by draperies. He opened and closed these a couple of times. Inside the curtained area was what looked like an oversized picture frame, supported at each end by posts.

  Hexton’s aide was strapped to a plank, which the magician and a tall, thin assistant set horizontally into the frame. This was tilted toward the audience at a forty-five-degree angle.

  Hexton closed the small curtain and gestured with his cane. In seconds the curtain was reopened. The audience gasped in amazement! The magician’s aide, and the plank to which he had been strapped, had vanished!

  Hexton bowed low, and his aide strolled onto the stage from the wings, to thunderous applause from the audience. Hexton bowed several times more, and stepped behind the curtain.

  “Great performance!” Frank said as he rose from his seat and stretched.

  “Do you know how he did it, Dad?” Joe asked.

  “I have an idea. Let’s go backstage. I think it would be interesting to talk to Hexton.”

  The detective and his three companions made their way to a door at the side of the stage. They went through it and up a short flight of steps to the wing, where they found Hexton.

  Mr. Hardy introduced himself and his party. “You had us baffled,” he said. “Good show!”

  “Especially the last trick,” said Joe. “That was great!”

  The performer smiled cordially. “Perhaps you would like to see how it is done.”

  Frank looked surprised. “I thought magicians never gave away their secrets.”

  “Customarily they don’t,” Hexton replied smoothly, “but, you see, I have recognized your
name. I know Fenton Hardy is a star performer in his own field. We both deal in secrets. Mr. Hardy, my job is to mystify, yours just the opposite. I will show you the trick as a professional courtesy.”

  “That’s very gracious of you,” the detective replied.

  “Not at all,” Hexton said quickly. “I have a feeling we ought to become better acquainted.”

  Mr. Hardy smiled. “An excellent idea.”

  “One moment,” said Hexton. “I must alert my assistant. In the meantime, will you boys please take seats down in the auditorium.” Hexton strode off but returned in a couple of minutes. “Follow me, Mr. Hardy.”

  He led the detective onstage in the now-empty theater. “Would you do me the honor of being my subject?” he asked with a sweeping bow.

  The short assistant strapped Fenton Hardy to the plank. With the three boys watching intently, the magician closed the curtain and waved his cane. When he opened the compartment, the subject had vanished.

  “That’s neat!” Chet said.

  The boys watched for Mr. Hardy to reappear. When some time went by and he did not come out of the wings, Frank and Joe became worried.

  “What’s happened?” Frank asked anxiously. He and Joe ran onto the stage to examine the compartment, but Hexton blocked them.

  “I can’t permit you to inspect my device,” he said, dropping his pleasant manner.

  “Then tell us where our father is!” Joe demanded.

  “I don’t know,” Hexton said slyly. “He must be playing some kind of joke on you.”

  Joe moved toward the magician. “Step aside. We’re going to take a look at that gadget of yours.”

  Hexton called quickly, “Vordo! Stony!”

  Two men emerged from the wings. The first one appeared to be nearly seven feet tall. His massive shoulders, muscular arms, and hard features made him a formidable sight. The other was the thin fellow who had helped with the vanishing act.

  “See to it that these boys leave immediately,” the magician ordered.

  Joe was ready to fight, but Frank caught his brother’s upraised arm. Perhaps Hexton was telling the truth.

  The assistant strapped Mr. Hardy to the plank

  Joe acceded. “All right, have it your way!” he said. “But we’ll be back!”

  The trio hurried out of the theater. Joe insisted upon going to nearby Claymore Police Headquarters to request that a couple of officers go back to investigate.

  “All right,” said Frank.

  When the group returned to the theater, Hexton became enraged. “If you try to look at my equipment without a warrant, I’ll sue you!” he stormed.

  The officer told the boys that since there was no evidence of a crime, the only thing they could do was to file a missing-persons report.

  “But we can’t just sit around and wait!” Joe declared hotly.

  “On the other hand, it’s possible Dad is staying away on purpose,” Frank reasoned in a low tone. “Let’s wait a while before we report him missing.”

  Joe was not satisfied. “At least let’s search the theater.”

  The police agreed to this and the manager was summoned. He gave permission, but stressed the point that he had no jurisdiction over Hexton’s equipment.

  The magician and his assistants glared at the Hardys and Chet as they inspected the stage thoroughly. Then they searched other sections of the theater. There was no sign of Fenton Hardy. Frank suggested that they return home, in the hope that his father would try to reach them there.

  Deeply worried, the three boys hurried across the dark parking lot and got into the Hardy car. As they sped along a straight stretch of road leading from the city, Chet looked out the rear window. He noticed the headlights of a pickup truck drawing swiftly closer.

  “Some character is tailgating us,” Chet said. “Doesn’t he know that’s dangerous?”

  “Best thing is to let him go by,” Frank replied, and pulled closer to the shoulder of the road.

  The small truck roared past the Hardys’ car.

  “A speed demon!” Joe said sarcastically as the truck disappeared from sight.

  The route Frank had chosen led them along a narrow, winding mountain road, bordered on one side by a guard rail. Below it was a sheer drop of several hundred feet.

  As the car rounded a sharp curve, the boys were horror-stricken to see the headlights of a car directly in front of them. They had only the fraction of a second to brace themselves for a collision!

  CHAPTER II

  The Hexton File

  CRASH! There was a loud, piercing sound of shattering glass as the oncoming headlights made contact. Yet there was no collision! Like an apparition, the other vehicle had vanished completely.

  Frank struggled to maneuver the car away from the guard rail. He jammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop. They all looked startled.

  “Wh-what happened?” Chet asked.

  “I don’t know,” Frank said. “This is weird—”

  Joe pulled out a flashlight. “Let’s go back up the road and investigate!”

  The boys walked to where they had encountered the headlights. As Joe played the beam along the road, they noticed broken glass scattered about. Frank picked up a fragment.

  “Look at this!” he said.

  “It’s a piece of mirror!” exclaimed Chet.

  “So that’s it!” Frank exploded. “Someone set a mirror on the road. What we saw was the reflection of our own headlights!”

  Joe’s eyes widened in anger. “We might have swerved over the embankment!”

  “Exactly!” Frank answered. “Whoever planted the glass put it too close to the bend in the road. We came upon it so quickly I didn’t have time to swerve!”

  The young sleuths wondered if Hexton or his assistants had set the trap for them. Or had it been intended for another unsuspecting victim?

  “This mystery is getting too dangerous,” Chet said gravely. “A guy could get hurt.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Frank vowed.

  The Hardys searched the area more closely. Joe picked up a sliver of wood. He noticed several similar pieces scattered along the road.

  “What do you make of this?” he asked.

  Frank examined it. “Undoubtedly this is part of a wooden easel that was used to support the mirror.”

  “Magicians often use them in their acts,” remarked Joe. “Hexton could have had a big mirror brought here in a pickup truck.”

  Frank agreed. “The one that passed us was certainly traveling fast enough to reach this spot well ahead of us.”

  “If Hexton did plant the mirror, how could he know we’d take this road?” Chet inquired.

  “It’s the fastest way back to Bayport,” Frank replied. “He may have had us followed.”

  After scuffing the glass and wood off the road, the boys drove on. At the Morton farm on the outskirts of Bayport, Chet got out.

  “S’long, fellows,” he said. “Keep me posted about your dad.”

  Frank and Joe drove home in silence. Their mother and Aunt Gertrude were waiting for them in the living room. Reluctantly the boys told what had happened.

  “Oh dear!” their aunt shrilled. “Quick! Call the police. Fenton’s been kidnapped!”

  Gertrude Hardy, tall and angular, was the sister of Fenton Hardy. Although she admired the sleuthing abilities of her brother and nephews, she constantly worried about the dangers involved.

  Mrs. Hardy, an attractive and gracious woman, was too stunned by the shock of her husband’s disappearance to talk. Frank put a comforting arm about her.

  “In case Dad disappeared on purpose, let’s not notify the police. Joe and I will find him. He may not be far away.”

  The boys excused themselves, then went to their father’s study.

  “I think Aunty’s right about the kidnapping,” said Joe. “Dad must have had something pretty big on Hexton.”

  “In that case,” Frank said, “we ought to find it in his files.”
r />   But there was no record of Hexton under the letter H.

  “Try M for magician,” Joe suggested.

  Frank looked. “Not there.”

  They checked several other headings, but did not find any mention of the man. Then Joe noticed a folder marked “School.”

  “That’s funny,” he said. “I don’t remember Dad having a case to do with a school.”

  He took out the file and opened it. “Frank! Look here! This is it!”

  Fascinated, the boys read the notes. Mr. Hardy described the magician as a diabolical man who for years had headed a gang of thieves. Working as the crew for his show, they moved about the country with him, pulling the robberies he planned. The detective had discovered the setup recently. “So far no real evidence,” he had noted. Written at the bottom of the page was: “Last two years agent UGLI.”

  “UGLI!” Joe exclaimed. “Undercover Global League of Informants!”

  Frank gave a low whistle. “This is really big! UGLI is the most powerful espionage ring in the world.”

  “And hostile to democratic countries,” added Joe.

  The boys exchanged grim looks. If their father had been kidnapped, he was in ruthless hands!

  “I think I know now why this is filed under school,” said Frank.

  Joe nodded. “That’s probably a camouflage word for SKOOL. Dad must be working for them.”

  Both boys had heard of the famous supranational counterespionage ring which worked on behalf of democratic powers. The letters stood for Secret Knowledge Of Organized Lawbreakers.

  “If only we could contact them,” said Frank, “they might be able to give us a lead. But the organization is so secret, there’s no way to reach them.”

  “Unless they’ve called you first,” said Joe. “Maybe Dad left a note on how to get in touch.”

  But a thorough search turned up no information. The boys perused the report again and learned that for the past two years State Department secrets had been leaking out of Washington to enemy countries at an increasing rate. The detective had written, “Offices, cars, and homes of diplomatic corps must be very cleverly bugged. Agents probably transmit microtape to couriers who take it abroad.”