The Arctic Patrol Mystery Page 8

  “Fine,” Mar replied. Then he looked at the Hardys seriously. “I have something to tell you,” he said as Frank returned the affidavit to his pocket. “They were here again to see me.”

  “Who was?”

  “The men who think I am a spy. You asked me to tell you.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” Frank replied, leaning forward in his chair. “What did they say?”

  “They want me to get a boat and help them take something out of the country illegally!”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “I said I wanted to think it over. They will return in an hour for my answer. I was about to call you when you rang my bell.”

  “Mr. Mar, what did these fellows look like?” Joe queried.

  “One was bald, short, and heavy-set. The other was black-haired with a rather long nose. They are due here any minute.”

  Frank and Joe exchanged glances. There was no doubt in their minds that the men were Musselman and his pal.

  “What do you want me to do?” Mar asked.

  “Go along with their proposition,” Frank said.

  “But it is illegal!”

  “That’s just it. We might be able to uncover a nefarious scheme.”

  “All right. I will do as you say. You go now and I’ll tell you later exactly what they want me to do.”

  Joe looked around. “I have a better idea. We’ll listen in.” He pointed to a small closet. “Can we both get in there?”

  Mar sucked on his pipe, sending out a billow of smoke. “I think so.”

  He opened the closet, which was rank with the odor of old clothes. A few tools were stacked in one corner. The boys squeezed in. A narrow crack between the floor and the bottom of the door would allow enough air to keep them from suffocating.

  “When they come, I will get them to leave as soon as possible,” Rex Mar said.

  Frank coughed a bit, and Joe’s throat burned, as he inhaled the pipe smoke which drifted over the room like an early-morning heavy fog.

  The doorbell rang. As Mar went to answer it, Frank and Joe ducked into the closet. Seconds later they heard Mar return with a visitor. The voice was unmistakable. Musselman!

  Frank and Joe hardly dared to breathe, lest any sound give away their eavesdropping hideout.

  “All right now,” said Mar. “Tell me just what do you want me to do?”

  “How many times must I tell you?” the caller replied impatiently. “I want you to rent a small fishing boat.”

  “And then what?”

  “Are you absolutely daft, old man?” snapped Musselman. “Go to the coast near Snaefellsjokull and I’ll be waiting for you there. Look, here’s the spot.”

  Frank and Joe heard the crinkling of paper as a map was spread out on the table.

  “Yes. I see it,” said Mar. “But I cannot sail such a boat all alone.”

  “Then get yourself a crew. I will pay you well.”

  “How many will you pay for?”

  “Three good men. It may be a rough trip.”

  Joe could not resist whispering to his brother. Putting his lips close to Frank’s ear, he said, “Let’s turn the tables on this goon! We’ll go with Mar, and at the same time we can hunt for Biff and Chet!”

  There came the scraping sound of chairs pushed back from the table as the caller prepared to leave.

  “I’m leaving Reykjavik early tomorrow morning,” Musselman said, then added, “I can trust you to take care of this assignment?”

  “Ja.”

  “Then here is an advance payment. Get a seaworthy boat and do it as quickly as possible.”

  Joe longed for the man to depart. The stuffy air in the closet and the tobacco smoke filled his lungs. How good it would be to inhale some fresh air!

  “Good-by,” Mar said, and the boys heard the door close. But before they could open the closet, the lock clicked shut.

  Frank tried to turn the knob and stifled a gasp. They were trapped!

  Frank and Joe ducked into the closet

  CHAPTER XIV

  A Perfect Disguise

  “JOE, we’re locked in!”

  “Holy crow! Were we ever suckered by Rex Mar! Frank, what are we going to do?”

  The boys talked in hushed whispers.

  “Let’s not panic. We’ll get out. Easy does it, Joe.”

  “Yes. But suppose they’re out there waiting for us?”

  “That’s the chance we’ll have to take,” Frank replied, feeling about the dark closet.

  “What are you looking for?” Joe asked.

  His brother said that he had seen some tools. Maybe one of them would be of use. By this time it had become insufferably hot. Perspiration began to drip from their faces.

  “If we had only carried a flashlight!” Joe muttered. He pressed his ear close to the door. There was no sound outside. If Mar was in league with the criminals, perhaps he had left with Musselman.

  “Joe, I found something!”

  “What is it?”

  “A jack.”

  “Good. Now if we had a two-by-four—” With both hands Joe rummaged the floor of the closet. “Here’s something—a block of wood!”

  “How long?”

  “Not long enough.”

  Frank’s hand touched a large hammer. “Now I think we have it, Joe!”

  Pushing the old clothes to one side, he placed the base of the jack against the rear wall of the closet. Joe held the block of wood and the hammer end to end between the door and the head of the jack. They fit loosely.

  Using an old wrench handle, Frank activated the jack. Click! Click! Click! Their improvised battering ram was wedged tightly between the back of the closet and the door. Frank applied more pressure. The door creaked a little. Could their device spring the lock?

  Click! Click! Crash! The lock was forced and the door sprang open.

  The room was not empty after all. There sat Rex Mar, puffing on his pipe and smiling.

  Slack-jawed, Frank and Joe looked at him in amazement. “What—what—? Why did you do that?” Frank asked.

  Joe’s fists were clenched in anger. “You nearly suffocated us. Is this your idea of fun?”

  The old sailor motioned the boys to simmer down. “You proved yourselves,” he said. “I wanted to see what you would do in a difficult situation.”

  “Then you knew the jack was in the closet?” Frank asked.

  Mar nodded. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of cold water. Frank and Joe each gulped down a glassful.

  Now calm after their ordeal, Frank asked, “Was that the blond man you spoke to?”

  “Right. Did you see him through the keyhole?” “How could we! The key was in it,” Joe said caustically.

  “Yes. I forgot.”

  “What was his name?”

  “He did not tell me.”

  “How about your crew?” Frank went on.

  “You two, of course,” Mar replied. “I told you, you proved yourselves.”

  Frank and Joe nodded to each other. They would have to level with Mar.

  “We’ll need disguises,” Frank said.

  “What for?” The old seaman looked surprised.

  “Judging from the voice of your visitor, he might be a member of a gang we’re after. We’ll get the third crewman, too, an Icelandic friend of ours by the name of Gudmundur. You can depend on him.”

  “Good.” Mar asked no further questions. “I will look for a suitable boat. When I find one, I will call you at your hotel.”

  The boys agreed and bid the seaman good-by. Even though it was very late, they stopped at police headquarters to find out if any word had been received about the missing Biff and Chet. The report was negative.

  Glum and disappointed, Frank and Joe returned to the Saga Hotel. They sat quietly in their room for a while, mulling over the entire situation.

  “I must confess,” Frank said, “that I’m still not thoroughly convinced about Rex Mar.”

  “I know,” Joe said. “We’re
putting ourselves in his hands. If he turns out to be one of Musselman’s guys, we’re really in for it.”

  “On the other hand, if he’s in league with Musselman, why did he tell us about this ‘illegal’ job to begin with? Why did he let us know that he knew Musselman, and why did he let us overhear their conversation?”

  “Search me.”

  “Well, with Gummi it’ll be three against one on that trawler. I think we can handle the situation.”

  A phone call brought the Icelandic boy to the hotel early the next morning. “Any word from Biff and Chet yet?” he asked as he came in the door.

  “No. But it seems we found the right Hallbjornsson.”

  “Great! Now your official mission is over, and once you find Chet and Biff you can have some fun in Iceland.”

  “Well, there’s a complication,” Joe replied, “The fake Hallbjornsson is trying to get the real Hallbjornsson involved in a smuggling job and—”

  Gummi interrupted the boy with a gesture of his hand. “Now look, fellows! You gave me that story about being detectives on an insurance case, and I bought it. Now you’re overdoing it. I’m not exactly stupid, you know. Either you level with me, or I’ll exit right here and now!”

  “Calm down, Gummi,” Frank said. “We are American detectives on an insurance case, and everything we told you is true. But we got involved in something else—” He exchanged a quick glance with Joe, who nodded his agreement.

  “Well?” Gummi still had a suspicious look on his face.

  “Will you promise to keep it to yourself? It’s a top-secret affair concerning both the American and the Icelandic governments.

  “I’ll keep quiet.”

  Frank and Joe revealed everything to their friend. When the Icelander heard the story, he eagerly pledged his support as a crewman.

  “I might be able to help my country, too,” he said enthusiastically. “Are you going to tell the coast guard?”

  “Yes. I’ll phone Captain Sigtryggsson and clue him in on our plans. He knows we are working on the case,” Frank said.

  “When do we start?” Gummi asked.

  “As soon as Rex Mar finds a boat,” Joe replied.

  “And you and I will have to work up disguises,” Frank put in. “We’ll go down to the barbershop right now and have our hair dyed. Gummi, can you get us some old seamen’s clothes?”

  “Sure. I have some at home. Come on over when you’re finished.”

  The boys parted at the elevator in the lobby, and Frank and Joe went to the barbershop in the basement, where they had their hair dyed a reddish color. False eyebrows and cheek pads completed their disguise. Grinning contentedly, they took a taxi to Gummi’s house.

  “Boy, if I didn’t know better, you could have fooled me,” he said admiringly. “Here, put these on!” He handed them well-worn work clothes.

  “Let’s go down to the harbor and see if we can spot our friend Mar,” Frank suggested when they had changed.

  “Good idea. We can try our disguise on him,” Joe said.

  All three scrambled into Gummi’s jeep. On the way, the Icelandic boy said, “One more thing. Don’t speak English when those thugs are around!” He taught them a few Icelandic words, which, if muttered repetitively, would fool any foreigner.

  They parked the car in the busy harbor area and strolled along the waterfront.

  “Look!” Joe said said after a while. “Isn’t that Rex Mar over there?”

  “Right. He’s checking out a trawlerl” Frank exclaimed.

  Mar was dickering with a sailor aboard a small fishing boat. Then he turned, smiled, and stepped back onto the dock.

  “Let’s go!” Frank said, and they walked directly toward the approaching seaman. Mar showed no sign of recognition. When they passed him, Frank deliberately stumbled into him. The man teetered back. Frank mumbled a few Icelandic words, and the boys walked on.

  Out of earshot, Joe let out a muted whoop. “We did it, Frank! That old salt didn’t recognize us at all!”

  The boys turned to see Mar sizing up the trawler. She was about thirty-five feet long, broad of beam, with a squat, sturdy look. As the old fellow turned to go, the boys accosted him.

  Mar’s eyebrows nearly raised to the peak of his cap as Frank revealed their identity. Then Gummi was introduced. They shook hands.

  “We saw you make a deal,” Frank said. “When do we set sail?”

  “This afternoon, if you’re ready.”

  “We are. Okay, Gummi?”

  “Right.”

  “We will meet on board at five o’clock,” Mar said, then hastened off to lay in supplies.

  At five-thirty that afternoon the little boat named Asdis churned out of Reykjavik Harbor and along the coast in the direction of Snaefellsjokull. Once safely at sea, Frank and Joe removed their cheek pads and eyebrows and fell to helping skipper Mar with chores on the deck.

  By eight o’clock a stiff wind kicked up white-caps on the sea, and the boat began to rock. On the bridge, Mar regaled Frank and Joe with stories of Iceland.

  On the wall behind the wheel was the Icelandic coat of arms. It showed a shield, which Frank recognized as the insignia on Icelandic coins. Standing on the right side of the shield was a giant, holding a staff. On the left side was a bull. Over the top loomed a dragon and a huge bird.

  “What does it mean?” Frank asked.

  “There’s a legend behind it,” Mar said, and Gummi nodded. As the storm worsened, the Hardys were told the story of a bad Viking king named Haraldur Gormsson, who wanted to conquer Iceland.

  “But he realized he must send a scout to look the place over,” the old seaman explained, “so he sent his lieutenant, who turned himself into a whale to swim around the island.”

  “Like a spy submarine,” Joe said.

  Leaning against the side of the cabin for balance, Gummi laughed. “There was plenty of magic in those times. Same as today.”

  “Do you expect us to believe that?” asked Frank.

  Rex Mar made a face. “Believe what you want, but that whale was met on the east shore by a furious dragon, breathing poisoned fire. The dragon was also accompanied by giant worms and snakes, so the whale withdrew.”

  Gummi took up the yarn. “Next he went to the north shore. There he found a huge bird, like a falcon, whose wings touched the mountain on both sides of a fjord. With him were other birds, big and small.”

  “And they scared the whale?” asked Joe.

  “What else?” Mar chuckled. “On the west side, the whale was met by a bull, who came snorting and charging into the seas.”

  “All alone?” Joe asked.

  “Oh no,” said Gummi. “With him were other guardians of the island—the trolls and the hidden people. Naturally he scrammed out of there!”

  Rex Mar scratched his head at the colloquial English which he had not heard before.

  “On the south shore,” Gummi continued, “the whale saw a giant with an iron staff in his hand. This guy was taller than a mountain, and with him were many other giants. Nothing was left on the shore now but sand, glaciers, and heavy seas. So the whale withdrew and reported what he had seen to King Gormsson.”

  “Did the king tackle Iceland after that?” Joe asked.

  “Not on your life! Today these four creatures are known as the defenders of Iceland.”

  The sea had become so rough by now that the skipper suggested everyone go below. He throttled back the engine and headed into the wind. But suddenly the gale shifted and the Asdis rocked violently.

  Mar’s face was impassive and showed no sign of fear, but Gummi was worried. “I’ve never seen a storm like this before,” he said. He had barely finished speaking when the Asdis pitched forward. The entire crew was thrown to the deck!

  CHAPTER XV

  A Bad Break

  WAVES crashed over the deck, nearly swamping the Asdis. The boys battened down the hatches while Rex Mar switched on the pump motor.

  “I could do with some of Chet’s seasick p
ills now!” Frank shouted above the howling gale.

  The little trawler endured the buffeting by the elements for two hours before the storm let up a bit. Then the winds tapered off gradually, giving the crew time for catnaps before dawn lighted up the jagged coastline.

  After a breakfast of cold lamb, bread, and milk, the boys joined Rex Mar at the wheel. “We’ll spell you for a while, sir,” Frank said. “You need some rest.”

  The Icelander accepted the offer, but would not go below. Instead, he stretched out on a bench and fell fast asleep.

  While Frank held the wheel, Gummi read the chart spread out on a table. “X marks the spot where we’re to put ashore,” he said.

  Frank checked the coordinates. “Wow! Look here!” he called to Joe. “This is right near the place where we transferred to the Albert!”

  The sturdy Asdis rode the waves for another hour, then Gummi awakened the skipper. “I think this is where we take her in,” he said.

  The old man stood up stiffly, looked at the map, then peered over the water at the sullen coastline. “Ja. There’s the inlet.”

  Frank spun the wheel and guided the trawler toward shore. Near the mouth of the stony inlet, Joe exclaimed, “Hey, Frank! A rubber raft!” He reached for the binoculars on a shelf and whipped them to his eyes. “And it has a small outboard!”

  “I didn’t see a whale after all!” Frank said.

  Joe moved toward the radio. “Shall I contact Captain Magnusson right now?”

  “No. If Musselman is listening in on our wave length, it would give us away,” Frank replied.

  Mar made the Asdis fast to the makeshift dock in the inlet and said, “Now we will have to wait until the man contacts us.”

  “Meantime I’m going to check on that raft,” Frank said.

  While Gummi scrambled up a low ridge near the shore to keep a lookout, Frank and Joe climbed around the jagged shore to where the raft bobbed in a small rock-strewn inlet.

  Joe was first to step into the craft. “It has a watertight canopy!” he exclaimed. “I’ve never seen one like this before. And look, Frank, these pontoons aren’t metal. They’re rubber, with valves like ballast tanks.”

  “You’re right. See these little compressed air containers?”