The Shore Road Mystery Page 11

  A large rock just beyond the entrance apparently stood ready to be rolled into position as extra concealment for the mouth of the tunnel.

  The boys, their eyes still on the launch, moved farther along the base of the sheer rock cliff hunting for additional evidence. Joe’s eyes suddenly narrowed as he saw some mossy vegetation near a cluster of rocky projections. Wading out, he halted and covering the beam of his flash with his hands, held the light directly over the moss.

  He was about to nudge Frank when they heard a motor start. Joe put out his light. The black fishing boat, a lighted lamp in the stern, began to move to the dock.

  “Quick! Behind these rocks!” Frank urged his brother.

  The boys crouched as the boat glided in. After the craft was moored, two men jumped from it and walked toward the tunnel entrance. One was the belligerent fisherman. The other, in a black skin-diving suit, they recognized as the man who had attacked them in the Sleuth, When the two disappeared through the rockweed, the Hardys followed them up the passageway.

  A hundred feet in, cold air carried the smell of fresh paint, and presently they began passing newly painted cars. As the Hardys proceeded, with flashlights off, each boy had the same thoughts: Were they about to solve the mystery of the stolen cars? Was Chet safely on his way to the police? Would the next few minutes lead them to the three Dodds?

  Suddenly Frank detected footsteps to their rear. He grabbed Joe’s shoulder and they threw themselves flat against the wall, holding their breaths so as not to make a sound.

  The steps came abreast of them.

  Slagel!

  Fortunately, his light beam kept to the center of the tunnel and he soon passed ahead. As Joe breathed out again, he said, “That was close!”

  “Too close!” Frank murmured.

  Walking forward even more cautiously, the Hardys rounded a bend and sidestepped a pile of broken shale. At several places the passageway was roof-beamed against cave-ins. Chipped-out hollows in the walls held automobile tools and rifles.

  The tunnel came to an end in a large chamber, dimly lighted. Frank and Joe slipped into a narrow side passage, where Frank spotted a small, natural peephole in the wall. He peered into the room.

  Against the opposite wall three men lounged on boxes near a row of cots. One of them stopped reading a newspaper aloud. Next to them stood several glistening machine guns, an oddly designed mortar, and numerous stacks of lighter shoulder weapons.

  “They must be the foreign arms Melliman is trading with Slagel in return for the cars,” Joe thought as he took a turn at the peephole.

  Suddenly the high-pitched whine of a sanding machine caught the boys’ ears and they saw a workman in a spotted white jacket start removing paint from a large, new sedan. Near him another man was spraying a car with green paint.

  Their appearance evoked Frank’s excitement. He thought, “That cinches it—those battered-looking cars on the barge were stolen! Instead of just repainting them to look new, Melliman has the color changed and then has the cars made to look worthless without really damaging them, so he can fool the local police. No doubt he spruces them up again when they reach New York!”

  Two cars along a side wall caught Joe’s attention. He recognized the model and year of one as being similar to Jerry Gilroy’s stolen car! “But this one looks really beat up!” The car was severely corroded by fire and rust.

  “Anyway,” Joe decided, “this explains why brand-new cars weren’t stolen. It’s easier to damage a used car. But why do all this disguising? Melliman must think it’s worthwhile. There’s something more to this whole deal than we’ve figured out yet. Maybe the cars will be sold in a distant foreign market.”

  Slagel stood in the center of the cavern conversing with the skin diver. When the sanding machine was turned off, the boys heard Slagel refer to him as Reb. They also detected garbled voices below them but had no view of the speakers.

  Having seen everything close at hand, the young detectives turned to the more important concern of trying to find the Dodds. Silently they moved off down the narrower side tunnel. Holding their arms before them, Frank and Joe found the passage widened only slightly, then ended at a blank rock wall. Frank switched on his flashlight for a moment and almost cried out.

  Bound and gagged only inches from his foot lay Professor Martin Dodd!

  The man’s face showed astonishment and relief as Frank put a finger to his lips, then dropped down to untie the professor. At the same time, Frank felt a nudge from Joe who pointed. Against a side wall lay Jack Dodd and his father!

  The boys rushed over to unbind them and remove the gags. Both looked thin and haggard from their ordeal, but their faces lit up as the Hardys helped them stand.

  “But how—” Jack whispered.

  Joe cut him off and murmured in his ear, “Chet should be on his way here with the police by now. Let’s get outside before the fireworks begin. Is there another exit besides the main tunnel?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “We’ll have to chance it then,” Joe said.

  Mr. Dodd stumbled with his first step, his limbs weak from the tight ropes. He muffled a cough as he took a few steps to regain his strength. Then he nodded that he would be all right.

  The Hardys switched off their flashlights. Martin Dodd and Frank led the way out, followed by Jack and his father. Joe took the rear.

  They were halfway down the side passage when the glare of four flashlights almost blinded them. An affected voice rang out.

  “Why, my friends the Hardy boys! And here I had thought you weren’t interested in taking my confidential case!”

  Mellimanl

  CHAPTER XIX

  Hopeless Escape

  CONFRONTED by a submachine-gun barrel, the Hardys and the Dodds were strong-armed by a dozen henchmen behind Melliman and shoved into the main cavern. The prisoners’ hands were quickly tied while two thugs trained guns on them.

  “A pity,” Melliman began, “that you should work such a splendid plan—and have it all come to nothing! Your unexpected visit, I am afraid, causes us a certain inconvenience.” His eyes glittered.

  Slagel thrust himself in front of Frank and Joe and flashed the blade out of his cane. “You little punks! You’ve caused us more trouble than all the cops in the area! For two cents I’d—”

  “No violence, Slagel!” snapped Melliman, restraining the gangster. “At least, not for the present.”

  He turned to several of the men, including the husky skin diver the boys knew as the spider-man, and the red-haired man Chet had seen at Kitcher’s. “Get the cars ready for barge transport south—we’re moving everything out tonight. Reb, you and Montrose take the boat to Kitcher’s dock. Wait for the barge, then send her here immediately to the inlet.”

  The diver nodded and ran down the tunnel to notify the fisherman.

  Slagel voiced discontent. “Are we gonna close up shop just because a couple of kids—”

  “We have no choice,” Melliman cut in as four men hastily lined up the refinished cars for movement down the tunnel. “Unfortunately, the Hardys may have relatives and friends who know they gave up the generous vacation we urged them to take.”

  Slagel protested that a storm was brewing at sea, but the unctuous Melliman soon convinced him by saying. “The arms and tanks of nerve gas are yours to do with as you like.”

  “You double-crosser!” Slagel yelled. “You’re not leavin’ me to take the rap!”

  The two finally agreed that the lethal gas would go on the barge as usual, carefully packed in the trunks of the cars, and accompanied by Melliman. Slagel and the other henchmen would head south in Birnham’s large truck, taking the weapons with them. They would meet Melliman’s barge in New York. A thug was dispatched to inform Birnham of the evacuation of the hideout.

  While Slagel and Melliman stood with two guards near the prisoners, three men worked quickly on one of the unfinished cars near the paint rack, removing two door windows, sanding down the hood, and r
eplacing its new tires with old ones. Both Frank and Joe noticed one man applying peculiar reddish and black compounds to the roof and sides.

  Slagel pointed his cane at the five captives. “What about a halfway trip for ’em on the barge?”

  Melliman removed his spectacles. “For the Dodds and the esteemed professor, perhaps. It might prove diverting for the police to find their bodies washed ashore. But we reserve a special treatment for the famous Hardy boys.”

  Melliman turned to the guard holding the automatic weapon. “Take them all into the gas alcove.”

  As the Dodds were pushed into line behind them, Frank whispered to Joe, “Try to keep Melliman talking until Chet and the police arrive—it’s our only chance!”

  The prisoners were led past a trunk of gas masks into a small corner previously not visible to them. Joe felt a shiver when he saw twenty metal cylinders against the damp wall. Most were black or orange, and a few, near their nozzles, had round meters. He could barely make out their chemical symbols and some foreign words.

  Since Melliman planned to take the Dodds on the barge, only the Hardys’ legs were bound. One of the men ran to the tunnel entrance to watch for the incoming barge.

  Frank spoke to Melliman. “Maybe you won’t mind telling us why you framed the Dodds.”

  “Not at all.” The man smiled. “We noticed the boy Jack often snooping along the coast around here. We couldn’t afford to have him find our setup.”

  “So you had your spider-man sabotage his boat off Oceanside Beach?” Joe asked.

  “Yes. Unfortunately, it didn’t prove successful. Since your friends live on Shore Road, we conveniently made them suspects and—shall we say? —arranged for them to jump bail.”

  Immediately the Hardys realized that the gang had not known of the Dodd Pilgrim mystery when they captured the farmer and his son. They were surprised, therefore, when Jack said:

  “I never got a chance to tell you fellows my ideas about the treasure clue. I had looked inland and thought I’d search along the coast.” He frowned. “Guess I was wrong.”

  Frank was about to suggest that Jack say no more, when Melliman interrupted. “Oh, yes, my friends and I first learned about this treasure when the Dodds came here as our guests. Jack was rather heated about our understanding of his coast prowling and let it slip out. But since then, both he and his father have been uncooperative in sharing their family secret with us.”

  Frank changed the subject and asked Melliman, “What led you to postpone your car shipment last Thursday at Kitcher’s docks?”

  “The weather,” Slagel put in, surprised to learn the boys had been there.

  “Yes,” Melliman said. “I conceived our ingenious car disguises, although my partner here has helped considerably with his knowledge of camouflage. I figured if his rust and char coatings did not wash off in rain, weather would be of no concern to us. Nevertheless, we have tarpaulins on the barge, and tonight’s impending storm should cause us no difficulties.”

  “And the fisherman was a lookout along the coast for parked cars—just as Slagel was on his trips up and down Shore Road?” Joe asked.

  “Exactly. Since terrain or circumstances sometimes presented problems, we also made use of Montrose’s colleague, Reb, with his swimming and climbing abilities.

  “And that’s where the lamp signals from the fishing boat figured?”

  “Yes. During daylight Montrose signaled tips to Slagel by his anchoring at various places off shore. As for the lamps, they made the boat easily identifiable at night.”

  Melliman grinned mockingly. “You recall the signals before Paul Revere’s ride? One light if an attack was coming by land, two if by sea? When Slagel saw two flashes, he knew Reb had spotted the police or you boys on the water and stopped bringing any stolen cars down the hillside! Our spider-man was a good go-between.”

  “That’s right,” said Slagel. “And I left the brown paint flecks and car tracks to fool the police. But I was a fool to lose my glove on the beach.”

  Melliman remarked, “Birnham has been most helpful. He disked out the stolen car tracks from his field and brushed them off the road when we brought the cars down the slope. He had the idea of his car being ‘stolen’ to throw suspicion elsewhere. Birnham had already told us of this tunnel and cave, which were ideal for a smuggling operation. We blasted it out for our needs. His truck to transport shipments to Kitcher’s and his blockades were effective too.”

  Joe glared at Melliman. “And you’re bringing guns and nerve gases into the United States for use by subversive gangs?”

  Melliman scowled. “You’re too smart. But it won’t help you now. You boys should have accepted that assignment I offered you—it would have taken you safely out of town. Even your illustrious detective father can’t do you any good now. We have eluded him.”

  The Hardys were told that Slagel had sent two men to put the brothers, and later Scratch, to sleep with gas. “You and the old geezer were in our way.”

  “You didn’t get our dad’s car,” Joe needled.

  “True,” said Slagel, but added he had thrown the dud grenade into the Hardys’ lab, and shot at the boys in the plane. He and Reb had pushed the Dodds’ station wagon off Saucer Rock. He himself had tied up the two fishermen, and strung the wire netting into which Joe had crashed. The skin diver had damaged Jack’s boat.

  When footsteps sounded in the tunnel, Martin Dodd turned to the boys and whispered, “I guess it’s all over for us—and solving the Pilgrim mystery—but I want to thank you for—”

  Frank was about to tell the professor of their hopes invested in Chet when three figures entered the chamber. Frank and Joe paled.

  Held prisoner between two men stood Chet!

  “This is the kid I saw in the truck at Kitcher’s,” one said. “He took our record. We just caught him at the top of the slope. Lucky thing, or he’d have brought the police.”

  “Aha, a loyal friend of the Hardys!” Melliman pushed the petrified Chet against the wall and turned to his captors. “Isn’t the barge here yet?”

  “Just comin’ now.”

  “Good! Get these three Dodds out to the beach. Then clear that car out of the entrance. It hasn’t been coated yet. Next start these other autos down the tunnel. Quick!”

  The Dodds were seized and led into the main tunnel. Chet and the brothers remained with Slagel, Melliman, and a fat, armed henchman.

  “Well”—Melliman rubbed his hands—“we’ll have to part company now. I’ve decided to let you boys enjoy your last hours here together! Slagel, have one of your men wire the remaining dynamite at the tunnel entrance.”

  Slagel snickered as Melliman went on, “Boys, we’ll even provide a little atmosphere.” He winked at the fat henchman and pointed to the three cylinders. “When we call, you’ll know what to do.”

  After Melliman and Slagel had left, Chet turned dismally to Frank and Joe.

  “I’m sorry, fellows. I wasn’t quick enough. I was heading for my car when those creeps nabbed me.”

  “We’re not cooked yet,” Frank consoled him in a whisper as he watched the squat man guarding them. “We must get out of here! Joe, did you notice that two of those worn metal cylinders against the wall are different from the others?”

  Joe glanced to his right. His eyes widened. “They’re just plain oxygen!”

  “Right. Probably from the spider-climber’s aqualung gear. Melliman must have left them here because they’re empty,” Frank whispered. “But maybe our guard doesn’t know that!”

  Not only were the oxygen cylinders of the same height and black color as the ones containing poisonous gas, but their labels were not visible to the guard.

  “Hey, cut out that talking!” the gunman barked. “I’ve got to listen to know when to blow that gas and leave this joint—fast!”

  Actually he seemed to be paying little attention to the tied-up boys. After a moment Frank checked with Chet, then nodded to Joe.

  Shuffling quickly to an uprig
ht position, Joe swung his body wildly, pretending to get his ropes up on the sharp rock. Instead, he bumped purposely into one of the oxygen cylinders and forcefully toppled it over. The slender metal valve at the top smashed hollowly against the stone. The rolling cylinder clattered along the ground. By the time the startled man had spun around, all three boys were coughing violently.

  “You fools!” he cried. His eyes filled with fear, he hesitated. Then, cupping his mouth, he raced out of the cavern and down the tunnel.

  Immediately Frank crawled to the painting area of the cavern. He turned on the abandoned sander, wincing as the ropes smoked and finally broke between his hands. In seconds he had untied the other boys.

  “Let’s get to the Dodds!” Joe urged. The boys had just taken a step forward when three men rushed in from the tunnel. Though all of them wore white cloths over their faces, Frank recognized two as the fleeing guard and the surly fisherman named Montrose. The third wore a barge pilot’s uniform.

  He cried out, “Gas? There’s no gas here! These kids tricked you!” The men pulled down their masks and advanced. “Let’s finish ’em off right here!”

  The boys were trapped!

  CHAPTER XX

  Roundup and Treasure

  MONTROSE whipped out a blackjack and advanced on the boys. The next instant he felt himself yanked around. An iron fist crashed into his jaw and dropped him unconscious to the floor.

  The astonished boys saw that his attacker was the bargeman who had ripped off a mask, revealing the face of Fenton Hardy! Over his shoulders were several coils of rope.

  Losing no time, Joe rushed the equally astonished guard. Blocking a wild swing, he drove a punch into the man’s solar plexus. He doubled up and fell to his knees.

  “Quick! Let’s get these men tied!” Frank urged. He grabbed the rope from his father and with Chet’s help bound both men securely. Mr. Hardy gagged them.

  Chet exclaimed, “Mr. Hardy, you’re a magician! How did you ever—”