The Secret Agent on Flight 101 Read online

  Frank parked a short distance from the entrance. “Let’s stay out here and see what happens,” he said. “We’ll take turns keeping watch. Good thing there are no exits except to this street or the garden.” The foursome settled down for a long vigil.

  As they waited, Joe noticed that Chet seemed preoccupied. His stout friend was staring at something high on the side of the hotel.

  “What are you looking at?” Joe asked.

  “That window up there near the top. The room light is going on and off.”

  The young sleuths watched the light for a time before noticing that it was following a definite pattern.

  “Dit-dit-dit dah-dah-dah dit-dit-dit,” mumbled Frank in tempo with the light.

  “An SOS!” Joe cried. “In Morse code!”

  “No doubt about it!” Frank exclaimed. “Maybe it’s from Dad! He could be a prisoner in Hexton’s room!”

  Throwing caution to the winds, the Hardys dashed into the hotel. Chet and Jack Wayne remained in the car to watch the exit. The desk clerk was startled when the boys rushed in.

  “Which is the Incredible Hexton’s room?” Frank asked.

  The man automatically answered, “He’s in Suite 924. What are your names? I’ll announce you.”

  “Never mind,” Joe said.

  “But I have to announce all visitors,” the clerk insisted. “It’s a hotel rule.”

  As he scooped up the house phone, Frank and Joe darted into an elevator. They burned with impatience while the car rose slowly. When it reached the ninth floor, the boys hopped out and rushed to Hexton’s suite. To their surprise, the door was partly open. On it hung a sign: DO NOT DISTURB.

  “Careful!” Frank warned. “It might be a trap.”

  Cautiously they entered and hurriedly glanced into each of the rooms of the suite.

  “Nobody here!” Joe declared.

  “They were warned by the desk clerk’s call,” Frank said. “Let’s go after them! They must have escaped by a stairway.”

  The boys ran along the corridor toward an exit sign and bounded down the staircase. Reaching the lobby, they asked the clerk if he had seen Hexton or his assistants pass through.

  “I’ve seen no one,” was the response. “What’s this all about?”

  “No time to tell you now,” Frank said. “How do we get to the underground garage?”

  “By the elevator or the back stairs,” the clerk answered.

  “Quick! Outside!” Frank shouted to Joe. “Maybe we can cut them off!”

  They raced from the hotel and headed for the driveway leading to the underground garage. Just then the green sedan roared out.

  “Watch it!” Joe yelled. They fell backward as the speeding car grazed their jackets. Scrambling to their feet, the boys ran for their own car. It was gone!

  “Chet and Jack must have recognized Hexton,” Frank surmised, “and followed him.”

  He and Joe hurried back to the hotel to search the magician’s rooms for clues.

  “Come here!” Frank called softly to Joe as he opened the door to an adjoining bedroom. “This is where the SOS was sent from!” The electrical plug to a lamp was only part way in the wall outlet.

  “The signal must have been sent by manipulating the plug,” Frank said.

  “What’s that?” Joe exclaimed, pointing to something written near the base of the wall. The pair bent down to examine the faint scribbling. It read:441810682300 Am all right—

  “That’s Dad’s writing!” Joe exclaimed. “He was trying to tell us something!”

  “The ‘Am all right’ is clear enough,” Frank remarked as he carefully studied the writing. “But the numerals—what do you make of them?”

  Joe rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Nothing—yet. But I’ll bet they’re mighty important.”

  Frank took a notebook from his pocket and jotted down the cryptic message. The boys then went downstairs and walked out of the hotel just as Chet and Jack Wayne drove up.

  “We chased ’em!” Chet said.

  “Any luck?” Frank asked.

  “No! Only their license number. Lost ’em in traffic,” Jack answered.

  “But,” Chet continued eagerly, “we did get close enough to see that there were six men in the car.”

  Frank nodded. “I’m sure the sixth was Dad!”

  After phoning a description and the license number of the green car to the police, Jack and the boys decided to return to the theater.

  “Hexton must have left his stage equipment behind,” Frank said. “Perhaps he gave instructions where he wanted it sent.”

  At the theater a local truck was parked near the side entrance.

  “Maybe it’s waiting to pick up the gear,” Joe said.

  “Let’s ask some questions,” Frank suggested.

  Chet and Jack Wayne were instructed to keep an eye on the truck while the Hardys went inside. They confronted the theater manager just as he was locking his office, and asked him where Hexton’s equipment was to be taken.

  “As far as I know,” the man replied, “Hexton made arrangements to have it stored in a local warehouse.”

  “Did he leave anyone behind to dismantle and pack the stuff?” Frank inquired.

  “Yes—a man I never saw before. Said he had just arrived in town this morning,” the manager replied. “Hexton took his four regular assistants with him.”

  A shout came from the street and the boys rushed outside.

  Chet’s face was flushed with excitement. “A man forced Jack into the truck and drove off! He had a gun!” Chet pointed down the street. “There they got”

  Frank and Joe caught a glimpse of the vehicle as it rounded a corner several blocks away. They grabbed Chet’s arms and dashed for their car!

  CHAPTER V

  Mysterious Rendezvous

  FRANK jumped behind the wheel, the doors were slammed shut, and the car roared off in pursuit of Jack Wayne’s kidnapper! Seconds later, the headlights picked the truck out of the darkness on a road leading from the city.

  “The driver must know we’re after him,” Frank observed as the vehicle speeded up. “I’ll try to head him off.” He bore down on the accelerator until the needle touched the speed limit.

  “We’re gaining!” Chet yelled. Gradually the car moved alongside the truck. Then, with a burst of power, it pulled ahead and in front.

  “Be careful!” Joe pleaded. “That truck could plow right through us!”

  The two vehicles reeled back and forth across the road as Frank tried frantically to prevent the truck from pulling ahead of them.

  “If someone comes toward us from the opposite direction, we’ve had it,” Chet mumbled as he wiped his forehead.

  He relaxed a bit when the speedometer indicated less than forty miles per hour. Frank had noticed that the truck had suddenly slowed and begun to wobble violently.

  “What’s happening?” Joe asked.

  “Leaping mackerel!” Chet yelled. “Jack and the driver are fighting! Oh, I hope that man doesn’t shoot!”

  He had hardly finished speaking when the truck skidded off the road. Crash! With a thud the heavy vehicle tumbled on its side into a shallow ditch, its wheels spinning.

  Frank squealed to a stop. The boys leaped out and ran to the wreck, just as Jack Wayne pushed his door open.

  “Jack! You all right?” Frank panted.

  “A little shaky, but this guy’s been kayoed.”

  Jack climbed out and the others dragged the driver through the door. He regained consciousness a few moments later and weakly shook his head.

  “Who are you?” Frank demanded.

  “None of your business,” the man muttered. He was tall and husky, with bulging muscles. He looked for his revolver, which now lay on the road.

  “The police will be interested to know you kidnapped Jack Wayne,” Joe said, pointing to the pilot.

  “All right!” the driver bellowed. “My name is Burly Wilkes!”

  “How long have you been working for Hexton?�
� Frank asked.

  “Just today. And I didn’t try to kidnap anybody!”

  “I suppose you just felt like taking our friend for a ride at pistol point,” Chet remarked scornfully.

  “Hexton hired me to take care of his equipment,” Wilkes said. “He told me there were some guys trying to steal his stuff. When I saw your friend snooping around the truck, I thought he was one of ’em. I just wanted to give him a scare.”

  At that moment a police car arrived on the scene. An officer jumped out and walked toward them. “What’s going on here?”

  When the boys explained, the officer took Wilkes into custody and requested that Jack Wayne follow him to police headquarters to file a complaint.

  Further questioning of Wilkes by the police revealed nothing more than what he had already told the young detectives. Apparently, Frank reasoned, he was more afraid of Hexton than of being thrown into jail.

  The Hardys and their companions checked in at a motel to get a little sleep. Early the next morning they flew back to Bayport. Chet said good-by and headed for the farm in his jalopy.

  Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude were overjoyed to see Frank and Joe, and instantly asked about Mr. Hardy. They received a detailed report.

  “I’m still fearful,” said the boys’ mother, “but the news is somewhat encouraging. You say he wrote, ‘Am all right—’?”

  “Yes,” Frank assured her.

  Aunt Gertrude said in her forceful way, “That’s enough for me. I’m sure Fenton is a better magician than Hexton when it comes to escaping from traps. He’ll get out of those villains’ clutches!”

  “You’re right,” Joe agreed. “Just the same, I think he needs our help.”

  Directly after supper Frank and Joe went to their father’s study and tried to decipher the message scribbled on the hotel wall.

  Joe read aloud, “‘441810682300.’”

  “I’m stymied,” Frank admitted. “The numbers don’t fit into any code Dad’s used with us before.”

  “Maybe it isn’t a code at all,” Joe suggested. “The numbers might represent something else.”

  Just then Chet arrived. He strolled into the study with a large silver bowl tucked under one arm. In his other hand he held a big square of blue silk.

  “Okay, you masterminds! Give me your attention!” he demanded. “You see standing before you the dean of sorcerers! The master of legerdemain! The world’s most outstanding thauma—thauma—thaumaturgist!”

  “Wow!” Joe exclaimed. “Listen to him! You’d better get the dictionary, Frank!”

  Chet placed the bowl on the desk as the Hardys watched in amusement. “You are most fortunate,” he said, “since you will see a private performance by the great—the incredible—the fantastic Morton!”

  Chet paused, a faint smile curling his lips and added, “Perhaps you hadn’t heard that I’ve been taking a mail-order course in magic!”

  The Hardys looked unimpressed and said nothing. Chet eyed them with a smug expression. “Will you please bring me an egg, some relish, mustard, catsup, and perhaps some vinegar and water.”

  “Yes, master!” Joe left the study and returned shortly with the items. “Here you are.” He grinned. “And whatever you plan to do with them it had better be good. Aunt Gertrude almost took the broom to me for bringing this stuff.”

  Ignoring Joe’s remark, the chubby youth continued with his spiel. “All right! Prepare yourselves for the impossible!” he declared. “Listen now to my weird and strange incantations! Utterances that will mystify the ages!”

  The boys watched as Chet cracked the egg and dropped it into the bowl, shell and all. He added the vinegar, water, and other ingredients.

  “What a crazy concoction!” Joe said as his chum stirred the mixture.

  Chet covered the bowl with the silk cloth. “Brace yourselves for the most amazing feat of all time!” He began to pass his hands slowly over the bowl. “Ezard, Kazard Mokim, Whumpf!”

  “Now what” Frank asked.

  “Ah!” Chet announced. “You have just witnessed an astounding display of my mystical powers! The ingredients in this bowl have vanished. Puhff! Just like that!”

  “Okay, Merlin,” Joe said, laughing. “Prove it. Uncover the bowl.”

  “You doubt my magical skills?” Chet said. “I won’t just uncover the bowl—I’ll go a step further to prove my powers.” He placed the bowl on his head upside down.

  “There! You see, I—” He stopped short as its contents flowed over his head and face. Some spattered on the floor. “Oh, ugh!”

  The Hardys howled with laughter. “You’d better clean up that mess fast,” Frank warned. “If Aunt Gertrude sees it she’ll cause you to vanish. Puhff! Just like that!”

  Frank and Joe howled with laughter

  Joe rushed out of the study and returned with an armful of paper towels. It took considerable rubbing before Chet became recognizable again and the carpet clean.

  “I can’t understand,” he murmured. “The book said it would work!”

  Joe chuckled. “Maybe you got your incantations mixed.”

  “Anyway, I was just trying to cheer you fellows up,” Chet mumbled.

  “We appreciate that,” Frank said. “But how about less spectacular tricks for a while?”

  At a loss for words, Chet sat down in an armchair and examined his silver bowl.

  The ringing of the telephone broke the silence in the study. Frank took the call. “Frank Hardy speaking.”

  “If you and your brother want to see your father,” said a muffled voice, “come to the old Landon Mansion in an hour. And come alone!”

  “Who is this?” Frank demanded. There was a sharp clicking sound. The mysterious caller had hung up!

  The message startled the boys. “Did you recognize the voice?” Joe asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Frank said, “but it sounded like Hexton’s giant helper, Vordol”

  “The Landon Mansion, eh?” Joe queried. “That old dilapidated house hasn’t been lived in for years. I understand it’ll be torn down soon.”

  “If I remember correctly, it’s just off Highway 18,” Frank recalled. “It’ll take us about thirty minutes to drive there.”

  “But it may be a trap!” Joe declared.

  “We must take the risk,” Frank insisted. “Dad really might be there.”

  They asked Chet to post himself at the telephone. “If we’re not back in two hours, notify the police,” Frank requested.

  He and Joe stopped to tell Mrs. Hardy their plans. Though worried, she conceded they should go. Ten minutes later the Hardys’ car was humming down the highway on the outskirts of town. The night was clear and a strong breeze lent a chill to the air. A full moon bathed the trees and fields in an eerie, silvery light.

  Before long, the Hardys came to a narrow dirt road and turned onto it. Neglected for many years, it was pitted with holes and covered in spots with clumps of grass and weeds. There were signs, however, that some kind of vehicle had traveled the road recently. Much of the grass had been flattened and there were tire tracks.

  At the end of the rutted road, the two sleuths discovered iron gateposts. The gates had long since fallen from their rusted hinges. In the distance stood the Landon Mansion, ghostly in the moonlight. Frank and Joe got out of the car and walked toward it. The only light came from a window on the second floor.

  Reaching the house, they stopped and listened for a moment. All was quiet.

  The Hardys furtively made their way to the door and eased it open. Silently they slipped in, but froze like statues when Vordo’s voice boomed from upstairs.

  “Your father’s waiting here!”

  Frank and Joe broke into a cold sweat. “That guy must have radar eyes,” Frank whispered. “Come on, Joe! We can’t turn back now.”

  The boys climbed the creaky staircase, which groaned under their feet. Just before they reached the top, a grinding sound echoed through the old building. With a splintering crash the staircase parted just wher
e they were standing. The lower section fell away and the boys plunged toward the darkness below!

  CHAPTER VI

  Aerial Chase

  FALLING, Frank made a grab for the step ahead of him and hung on as Joe gripped his waist. Though his arms ached from the strain, Frank pulled desperately, hoisting himself up inch by inch.

  Finally Joe reached out and grasped the step. After much effort, both boys worked themselves safely onto the next tread.

  “These guys don’t play around,” Frank murmured, rubbing his swollen hands. “Well, up we go.”

  They climbed the few remaining steps and entered the room straight ahead. It was empty, except for a small table, on which a single candle burned.

  At the end of the room was a window. The boys rushed to it and looked down into the yard in time to see Vordo and Stony Bleeker leap into a car and speed off.

  “Neat getaway,” Joe muttered.

  “No use trying to chase them,” Frank said. “They’ll be out of sight by the time we get to our car.”

  “Dad wasn’t with them,” Joe commented.

  “Of course not. Calling us over here was just a trap,” Frank replied. He pulled angrily on the rope which Vordo and Bleeker had used to get from the window to the ground.

  The boys went to examine the remaining section of the staircase. It had been sawed more than halfway through! In a sober mood Frank and Joe returned to the window, slid down the rope, then drove home. Chet was greatly relieved to see his friends.

  “What about your dad?” he asked excitedly, and was quickly told what had happened.

  “Wow! Well, I’m glad you’re safe,” Chet said. “While you were gone two important phone calls came in. The first was from the police chief in Granton. He said Burly Wilkes has escaped!”

  “What!” Joe exclaimed. “How did that happen?”

  “A detective had handcuffed Wilkes to a table in the interrogation room while he went out for a few minutes,” Chet said. “When he returned, Wilkes was gone. Somehow, he had slipped out of the handcuffs.”