The Mystery of the Chinese Junk Read online

  Joe was startled, but was careful to show no outward sign of this, since Chin Gok’s eyes were still fastened on the Hardys.

  “Looks as if Ti-Ming’s trying to throw a scare into us,” Joe murmured.

  “Could be,” Frank replied. “But why? Anyway, let’s not give Chin Gok any encouragement about buying the Hai Hau.”

  “Check.”

  The brothers rejoined Aunt Gertrude and the Chinese caller. Frank addressed Chin Gok. “We’ll think over your offer, but we don’t plan to sell.”

  Chin Gok dropped his air of exaggerated polite-ness. A look of rage twisted his features. Losing his temper completely, he stood up and shrilled, “You—you fools—” and burst into a torrent of Chinese.

  Aunt Gertrude drew herself up. “You cannot talk to my nephews that way!” she said icily. “You will leave immediately.” She gestured toward the front door.

  Chin Gok, although still muttering angrily, retreated slowly. The instant he was on the front porch, Miss Hardy shut the door firmly.

  Joe looked at his aunt admiringly. “Wow! You really convinced him you meant business!”

  Aunt Gertrude frowned. “Yes. But I almost wish you boys had sold him that junk. I have a feeling it will only bring more trouble.”

  Frank spoke up. “Joe and I can’t give up work on this mystery now.” Joe nodded vigorously.

  The next morning the Hardys and their partners assembled at the Chinese junk. Although only four passengers bought tickets for the trip to Rocky Isle, the boys refused to let their spirits be dampened.

  “Heave ho!” Tony sang out as he cast off.

  Several people on the dock made sarcastic comments as the Hai Hau pulled away from the pier.

  “You got plenty of life rafts aboard?” called one man derisively.

  “Don’t need ’em,” Biff called back, unruffled. “We just had a swell repair job on the hull.”

  His confident manner and words allayed any qualms the junk’s passengers might have had. Everyone relaxed, and soon were laughing and singing as the Hai Hau glided across the bay.

  Once on Rocky Isle, the four travelers enjoyed a refreshing swim and leisurely picnic. The boys returned for a second group. This time there were five.

  When the Hai Hau returned to its pier on the last trip back, the owners felt that it had been a most successful day, even though there had not been a capacity number of passengers on either excursion.

  “Simply thrilling!” a pleasant-faced woman exclaimed as she disembarked. “I’ve always wanted to sail in one of these Chinese ships and I enjoyed every minute of it!”

  The other passengers added their delighted comments, which could be clearly heard by the group of spectators on the dock.

  “We’re over the hump!” Tony chuckled, and his companions grinned happily.

  After the onlookers had dispersed, Frank said to his partners, “What say we give the junk another going-over tonight and hunt for hidden smugglers’ loot?”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice,” Tony answered.

  “Same here,” the others spoke up. Biff added, “But let’s not make our search at the dock.”

  The boys arranged to meet after supper and sail to some secluded spot up the bay where they could conduct their investigation undetected.

  When the Hardy group, including Chet, gathered on the pier at the appointed time, Biff remarked wryly, “Boy, we sure could have picked a better evening!”

  Tony glanced at the overcast sky. “You said it ! We’d better keep a weather eye out for a storm.”

  The humidity had risen steadily since late afternoon, making the air hot and muggy. Not a breath of wind stirred.

  Frank started the outboard and they set off. As the Hai Hau pulled away from the dock, lightning flecked the horizon.

  “Oh—oh! Hope that’s just heat lightning,” Chet muttered.

  The boys cruised offshore and finally picked a hidden cove several miles from Bayport to drop anchor. The Shore Road ran close to the beach at this point, but a row of large willows partially screened the junk from anyone using the road.

  For over an hour the Hardys and their chums searched the Hai Hau from stem to stern. But no hidden cache was revealed. By now the stormy-looking sky had become very dark.

  Frank lighted a pair of lanterns, quipping, “Okay, team. Night shift coming up.”

  Chet wiped his perspiring forehead. “Say, boss, don’t we get time out for a snack? I’m hungry.”

  The plump youth’s eyes had fallen on a bag of cookies which Jim Foy had brought along. Jim chuckled and passed the bag around. “Thought these would come in handy.”

  Biff bit into one of the crisp cookies. The next moment he said, “Hey! What’s this little paper inside?”

  “Pull it out and learn your future.” Jim grinned. “These are Chinese fortune cookies.”

  Biff extracted the tiny strip of paper. He read aloud:

  “GREAT WEALTH Is IN STORE!”

  “We’d better keep looking for that smugglers’ loot!” Biff exclaimed in glee. “Maybe it’s pirate gold!”

  Laughing, the other boys examined their own fortunes. Frank’s warned, “YOUR BEAUTIFUL EYES SPELL TROUBLE,” and the others roared with laughter. Joe’s advised him not to trust a certain red-haired girl he would meet.

  “Good advice,” Biff remarked. “Iola wouldn’t like her, anyway.”

  Tony’s fortune told of an impending discussion with a stocky, dark man. “My dad probably,” Tony joked. “He’ll have a few things to say if I get home late!”

  Chet was looking indignantly at his paper. “Huh! Mine says, BEWARE! You EAT TOO MUCH!”

  His friends burst out laughing. “Better not finish that cooky,” Frank said with mock gravity.

  “You guys don’t understand,” the stout boy asserted. “I just need lots of food energy for all the work I do!”

  His words were greeted with fresh merriment. “Listen! I’ll bet you’re too out of condition to balance on the rail of this junk!” Joe dared him.

  “Is that so? Just watch!” Chet boasted.

  Before anyone could advise caution, the chunky lad climbed up on the gunwale. He teetered precariously, arms outstretched. The next moment Chet gave a wild yell and toppled overboard. Feet first, he hit the water with a mighty splash and disappeared beneath the surface. His friends held their sides and quaked with merriment.

  “For Pete’s sake!” Joe said. “I didn’t think he’d really try that stunt.”

  Chet bobbed to the surface. Sputtering, he pulled himself up, grabbed the Hai Hau’s bowline, then to his comrades’ complete astonishment, swam rapidly to shore. Dashing up onto the beach, Chet hitched the line around a gnarled old tree stump.

  “Okay, this’ll show you guys!” he shouted. “If you want to get back to Bayport, you’ll either have to untie this end of the rope or leave it behind.”

  “That rope’s valuable,” Frank commented, and added, grinning, “Looks as if the joke’s on us!”

  Joe started to doff his T shirt and slacks in order to swim ashore. Just then a car’s headlight beams swept off the road and blazed between the trees. It was a jeep which plunged across the sandy beach. A moment later it ground to a halt and four masked men leaped out!

  “Hey, what’s going on?” Tony exclaimed, utterly astounded.

  The crew of the Hai Hau stared dumfounded for a moment as the men raced toward Chet.

  “They must be after the junk!” Frank gasped. “If they’re armed—good night! Chet!” he shouted. “Run!”

  The stout boy did not run away, but he suddenly spun into action and untied the bowline.

  “Don’t wait for me!” he yelled, and hurled the line out into the water.

  As the four assailants closed in on Chet, Joe declared he was going to jump overboard and help Chet.

  Biff deterred him. “Those men are after the boat. If they don’t get it, they’ll let Chet go.”

  Although the Hardys were skeptical, they listened to
their friend’s advice. Frank immediately began issuing orders.

  “We’ll leave, then sneak back and pick up Chet.”

  While the other boys hauled in the anchor and the dripping bowline, he ran aft and gunned the outboard into life. Two of the masked men plunged into the water and swam swiftly toward the junk. But the Hai Hau was already backing speedily out of the cove, beyond their reach. An unintelligible snarl echoed across the water, and the two swimmers returned to shore.

  “Put out the lanterns!” Frank directed Tony.

  Once clear of the cove, he rounded a spit of land, cut the motor gradually, and let the junk drift through the darkness toward a concealing clump of trees and shrubbery.

  “Now what?” Jim Foy asked in a whisper.

  “You stay aboard and guard the junk!” said Frank, grabbing a waterproof flashlight. “The rest of us will go over the side and rescue Chet!”

  Swiftly but silently the Hardys, Biff, and Tony lowered themselves into the water. A few quick strokes brought them to shore. Then they plunged through the trees like darting shadows, hoping to circle around and take the masked assailants from the rear, if they were still there.

  As the boys emerged in sight of the beach, they saw the four men dragging Chet, still kicking and squirming, toward their car.

  “They’re kidnaping him to hold as a hostage!” Joe exclaimed.

  “Make plenty of noise,” Frank whispered to his companions. Out loud he shouted, “Take ’em, gang!”

  Yelling like Indians on the warpath, the boys burst from cover. Chet’s captors whirled around. The stout lad seized his chance, pulled himself free, and unleashed a flurry of blows.

  A second later Frank, Joe, Biff, and Tony waded in, fists swinging! A brief but wild melee followed. Confused and taken off guard, the masked men turned and fled toward the jeep.

  Biff made a flying tackle and grabbed one by the ankle, but the fellow kicked himself free and went tearing after his companions.

  “Stop ’em!” Joe yelled as the jeep’s engine roared.

  At that moment a vivid bolt of lightning arced across the cove. Simultaneously a deafening crack split the air. The boys halted in their chase as a single thought struck their mind.

  Had the Hai Hau been struck by lightning?

  CHAPTER XI

  A Peculiar Theft

  “COME on!” Frank urged the others. “Let’s check on the Hai Hau!”

  The boys darted back across the beach. They were about to take a short cut through the grove of trees when Frank suddenly halted. He grabbed Joe’s arm and pointed to the water’s edge.

  “Look! There’s what was hit!”

  By his flashlight he showed the others where a tree had been split apart by the bolt of lightning.

  Tony shuddered. “Whew! If the lightning had hit just the other side of the cove—no more Hai Hau!”

  Relieved, the five companions made their way across the narrow spit of land enclosing the cove. When they emerged through the cluster of trees and brush, they saw the junk lying safely offshore.

  “Oh, you beauteous doll!” Tony gave a mimicking hugging gesture.

  Jim Foy hailed the boys as they swam back and climbed aboard. “Nice going, fellows! You were a real hero, Chet!” he added, slapping the stout youth on the back.

  “He sure was,” Frank agreed. “Untying that line gave us a chance to save the Hai Hau.”

  “Shucks, it was nothing,” Chet said, beaming modestly but enjoying the praise. “Any of you fellows would have done the same.”

  “Except that we wouldn’t have tied the junk up in the first place.” Biff grinned.

  Frank asked seriously, “How do you suppose those men knew where we had taken the Hai Hau?”

  No one ventured an answer but Joe. “They may be part of a gang and have spies dotted here and there along the shore to help them.”

  Chet whistled. “You mean smugglers?”

  “Could be. Or boat thieves.”

  Tony spoke up. “Fellows, let’s get back to Bayport and then talk this over. The sky’s going to fall in any second.”

  Frank started the motor. A stiff breeze had sprung up suddenly and to increase speed Biff and Tony hoisted sail.

  “Wow! We’re in for a real blow, mates!” Joe cried, as the junk raced before the wind.

  The boys shivered in their wet clothes. Suddenly a jagged streak of lightning illumined the heavens. It was followed by a crashing boom of thunder. A second later the rain poured down in gusty sheets.

  A heavy swell was running. As the waves increased in height, Frank shouted, “Douse the sail!”

  The crew hastened to comply. Soon the junk was rolling and pitching wildly amid mountainous breakers. One moment the bow would shoot up as the craft raced toward the crest of a wave; the next moment it would plunge into the trough with the stern lifted and the propeller racing out of water.

  “O-o-oh! I—I feel sick!” Chet groaned, bracing himself against the cabin.

  “Don’t think about it. Help us get this centerboard down!” Tony commanded.

  Frank clung to the tiller while the other boys made their way forward. The centerboard had swelled and jammed. Biff tried to force it clear with a boat hook.

  Suddenly a wave smacked the junk on her port quarter. The boat yawed and started to broach to! A second later the Hai Hau was heeling far over in the trough as water poured across the deck.

  Just in time the centerboard dropped. Tony immediately plunged aft to Frank’s assistance. Between them, they righted the tiller and brought the junk back on course.

  “Th-anks, pall” Frank gasped, blinking the water out of his eyes.

  The boys were drenched to the skin. They huddled in the stern, hearts pounding, as the junk plowed forward through the storm. When the lights of Bayport came into view, the weary sailors gave a grateful shout.

  “Home, sweet home!” Biff exclaimed.

  The storm had slackened considerably, and the Hai Hau was moored at the pier without difficulty.

  “Boy, what a night!” Chet heaved a sigh as he climbed onto the dock. “We didn’t find any pirate gold—but we sure found plenty of trouble!”

  “How about you fellows coming up to the house and drying off?” Frank suggested. “You can call your folks from there.”

  “Let’s do it,” Chet urged the others and they agreed.

  Fortunately, Frank had raised the top of the brothers’ convertible after parking, so the interior was dry. Biff and Tony got in. Jim Foy said he would ride with Chet in his jalopy.

  Aunt Gertrude greeted the sodden group at the door. “Gracious!” she gasped. “Where have you boys been? You didn’t go sailing in that junk on a night like this?”

  “I’m afraid we did,” Joe confessed.

  Without waiting for further explanation, Miss Hardy said, “Go upstairs and put on dry clothes. Frank and Joe have enough extra for all of you,” Aunt Gertrude added, although she eyed Chet’s stout form askance. “I’ll make some hot cocoa right away.”

  Later, after cups of steaming hot chocolate and chicken sandwiches, the boys felt revived. The four visitors had called their homes, and Aunt Gertrude had heard the story of the evening’s adventures.

  “Masked kidnapers!” she gasped. “Oh, what next. Did you call the police?”

  Frank sprang up. “Good night! I forgot all about it! Should’ve done that first thing. My brain must be waterlogged.”

  Chief Collig was astounded at Frank’s report, and said he would put men immediately on the assailants’ trail. “It looks as if they might be henchmen of one of those Chinese who’s determined to get the Hai Hau,” he stated.

  Frank returned to his friends and relayed this idea. “Jim, how about keeping your eyes open for any Oriental strangers in town?”

  “I’ll do that,” the Chinese-American agreed.

  “But those men tonight didn’t have Oriental accents,” Chet spoke up. He suddenly snapped his fingers. “Say, they sounded like the guys that Callie an
d Iola and I heard talking in the cave,” Chet declared.

  Tony groaned. “This gets more complicated all the time! I sure hope you Hardys can dope it all out. I can’t!”

  Before the boys said good night, they made plans for the following day. It was decided that Tony, Biff, and Jim would sail the Hai Hau to Rocky Isle. The Hardys would join Chet in exploring the right-hand fork of the cave tunnel.

  “They may even have left other clues in the cave that will help us crack this whole mystery!”

  The next morning the sky was clear and the sun shone brightly. Frank and Joe had offered to pick up Chet at the Morton farm. They found their chum fully equipped with his spelunking gear, in spite of the summer heat. Joe teased him about it as they headed out the West Road.

  “Never mind,” Chet retorted. “This stuff may come in handy if we get in any tight spots.”

  “Tight spots are just what I’m worried about,” Joe said with a grin. “We’ll probably need a shoe-horn to pry you out in that getup!”

  Frank pulled the convertible off the dirt road, and the boys climbed the hillside to the cave. Entering, they made their way to the fork in the tunnel.

  “A tight squeeze, all right,” Frank muttered, eying the tiny crawlway. “Well, here goes!”

  Dropping to his hands and knees, he squirmed into the opening.

  “You next.” Joe grinned wryly at Chet. “I’ll go last, so I can pull you out by the feet if you get stuck!”

  One by one, the boys wriggled through the cramped, pitch-black passageway. The trio emerged finally into a sizable cavern. Here the glow of their flashlights and the illumination from Chet’s helmet lamp enabled them to take in the whole chamber. From its roof hung stalactites, giving a fairyland appearance to the setting.

  Suddenly Joe gave a cry. “Look! Someone’s been here recently.”

  His eye had fallen on something lying on the floor of the cave. He snatched it up—a partially burned white envelope. Evidently the dampness had put out the flames.

  “Frank!” Joe exclaimed, straightening the envelope and staring at it. “It’s one from our house with a return name and address!”

  His brother took one glance, and said tensely, “It must be the envelope you put the two hundred dollars in!”