Mystery at Devil's Paw (9 page)

Then Joe went on to tell of their plan to explore farther along the Kooniak. “We feel sure that the gang must be operating somewhere upriver,” he said. “I'm hoping we can locate Robbie and Mr. Sewell, too.”

“That could be plenty dangerous,” Tony pointed out. “Suppose you run into another ambush?”

“They're not apt to lay a trap for us unless they know we're coming,” Frank replied. “If we watch our step and keep our eyes open, we may be able to spot their camp without being seen.”

“Especially since we're taking Fleetfoot with us,” Joe put in.

“Too bad Ted Sewell isn't here,” Frank remarked. “We figured he might want to come along to hunt for his dad.”

“Stick around for another twenty-four hours,” Tony urged. “Ted ought to show up pretty soon.”

The Hardys agreed to wait at least until the
following morning. The delay proved worthwhile because Ted arrived on the island that evening.

As the boys sat around the campfire, Ted reported glumly that he still had had no word on his father. He was amazed to hear about the latest developments, and when Frank told about their plans, he eagerly agreed to go.

“I've always wanted to take a trip into British Columbia!” Ted said. “We'll need rifles and ammunition, though. That's bear country!”

Though Frank and Joe had been carefully trained by their father in the proper use of firearms, they never carried weapons when working on detective assignments. However, since they already had had two brushes with bears they could see the wisdom of Ted's advice.

“I guess you're right,” Frank agreed. “But Joe and I don't have guns.”

“I have a Springfield that I bought from Army surplus,” Ted informed them. “Makes a swell hunting rifle! Maybe that'll do for the bunch of us. But you fellows should have some practice before we leave.”

After supper the boys set up a row of empty cans on rocks. Ted then brought out his rifle, which he carried in his boat, as well as several clips of ammunition. To his amazement, both Frank and Joe proved to be excellent marksmen, drilling their target cleanly on every shot.

“You don't need practice!” Ted exclaimed.

Frank grinned. “Our dad's a pretty good teacher.”

The rest of the evening was spent in discussing the details of their river trip. It was decided that after picking up Fleetfoot at the Haida village, they would follow the Kooniak at least as far as the Indian grave houses.

The next morning Tony insisted that he would be all right alone on the island. But Chet decided to stay with him. “In case there are any more gun-happy fish poachers around, you'd better have company,” he declared.

Then Chet suggested they pick some blueberries for breakfast. The others agreed eagerly. While Tony heaped wood on the campfire and started the bacon frying, the Hardys, Chet, and Ted hiked across the island. On the way Chet suddenly let out a cry of delight.

“Hey, look! Wild celery!” He reached down, pulled up one of the leafy green stalks, and started to bite into it.

Ted paled. “Chet! Stop!” he yelled.

W
ITH
a lightning grab, Ted yanked the stalk out of Chet's mouth before his teeth could sink into it.

“Hey! What's the big idea?” Chet protested.

“That stuff isn't celery,” Ted explained. “It's deadly poisonous water hemlock!”

“Poisonous!” Chet gulped and clutched his throat.

“Don't let it spoil your breakfast,” Joe comforted him. “We'll pick those blueberries and do some real eating.”

Chet cheered up at this appetizing prospect, and the boys soon returned to camp with a fine haul of berries. After breakfast Tony radioed the Fish and Wildlife Service for news of Robbins and Sewell.

“No word on either of them yet,” Tony reported as he took off his earphones. “But the operator passed on a message from the Bayport police.”

“What is it?” Joe shouted.

“They've learned that Romo Stransky has a twin brother named Remo—and
he's
a spy too!”

“Hear that?” Chet crowed triumphantly. “I told you I wasn't seeing things! Remo must be the one I saw at Seattle-Tacoma airport!”

“He probably followed us to Juneau, too,” Joe declared. “What's more, he may have left those star-and-circle heelmarks here on the island.”

Frank went even further with a deduction. “I'll bet Remo was Robbie's passenger!” The others agreed. As they prepared for the trip upriver, Frank went on, “You know, fellows, if we're lucky enough to find the helicopter, we might be able to fly it back.”

“Not if the gas tank's empty!” Joe cautioned.

“It most likely will be,” Tony said. “But you could carry enough fuel in the canoe to get the copter back to Juneau.”

Ted Sewell looked doubtful. “The canoe will be plenty loaded as it is, with all our duffel.”

“You're right,” Frank agreed. “We'd need an extra canoe.”

“Which means another trip back to Juneau,” Joe pointed out.

In spite of further delay, Frank's companions realized his suggestion was a wise one. “Okay,” Ted said after a short discussion. “We're all in favor. Let's draw straws for the job.”

The task fell to Ted and Joe. They embarked in the Hardys' motorboat and headed up the coast. When they arrived in Juneau, the boys purchased as many tins of gasoline as they thought could be safely carried.

On Ted's suggestion, they also stopped at a sportsmen's outfitting store and bought two rifles for Frank and Joe. After the supplies had been loaded aboard, Joe rented another canoe which he fastened to the stern of the motorboat.

They were having sandwiches and milk at a nearby lunch counter when Joe suddenly set his glass down hard.

“Something wrong?” Ted asked.

“Wow!” Joe exclaimed. “Why didn't I think of that before?”

Ted looked baffled. “Of what?”

“The Turner couple Robbie rescued from the glacier,” Joe replied in a low voice. “They might know something about his mysterious passenger.”

Ted brightened. “That's a good hunch, Joe! Come on!”

The two boys hurried to the Juneau Hospital, where Joe inquired whether they might see Mr. and Mrs. Turner. The receptionist nodded pleasantly and consulted a card file. “They're in Room 214. You may take the elevator.”

In Room 214 Joe and Ted found William Turner in bed, with his leg in a cast. Mrs. Turner,
her right arm in a sling, was seated in a chair reading to her husband. Both were delighted to receive visitors.

After Joe introduced Ted, Mrs. Turner said, “So nice of you to come. Where's Frank?”

Joe explained. Then Mr. Turner said, “Hope you boys didn't wait long on the glacier before the pilot returned.”

“As a matter of fact, he never did get back,” Joe replied.

The couple looked dismayed. “Oh, I'm terribly sorry!” Mr. Turner said. “Robbins' copter developed some kind of trouble on the way to Juneau. But he told us it could be fixed.”

Joe gave them the details of Robbie's disappearance.

“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Turner. “I wish we could help!”

“Perhaps you can,” said Joe. “Do you know anything about his passenger?”

The couple thought in silence. Joe prodded their memory. “Did you see anyone speak to Robbie when you landed at the seaplane base?”

“Only a couple of mechanics who were working nearby,” Mrs. Turner replied. “One of them called an ambulance for us.”

Joe then asked whether they had noticed anything suspicious on their glacier expedition.

“I'm afraid not,” Turner replied. “You see,
ever since I retired three years ago, Clara and I have made a hobby of paleontology.”

Ted was interested to hear this. “I guess there are a lot of prehistoric animal bones around our Alaskan glaciers,” he remarked. “I know prospectors have come across the remains of ancient woolly mammoths. But I've never seen any myself.”

Forgetting his unfortunate accident, Turner brightened and talked about the finds he and his wife had made. “As a matter of fact,” he went on, “we believe the earliest life on this planet developed right here in North America.”

“The first human beings too?” Joe asked.

“That's hard to say,” Turner replied. “However, I think the Indians originated on this continent.”

“I thought they were supposed to have come over from Asia.”

“That's the opinion of most scientists,” Turner conceded. “Personally, I believe it was the other way around. They probably trekked from here to Asia via the land bridge over the Bering Straits. Later, they traveled back and forth.”

“Is there any evidence to support that theory?” Joe asked.

“Yes, a great deal. There are similarities between the American Indians and Asiatics both in features and customs. Also, they both used the
bow and arrow, and have many common root words in their language.”

Excitedly Joe queried, “How about their ornaments and jewelry? Is there any chance the Alaskan Indians might have brought jade carvings back from Asia?”

Mr. Turner nodded. “Very possible, I should say.” After hearing about the boys' planned trip up the Kooniak River, he said, “Why not keep alert for traces of prehistoric animals? You might stumble on some valuable finds.”

“What should we look for?” Ted inquired.

“Well, a white streak in gray rock might indicate a bone fossil,” Turner replied. “Or a depression in the rock could be a dinosaur's footprint. Either one could lead you to a prehistoric skeleton.”

“We'll remember that!” Joe promised as the boys got ready to leave.

They quickly strode to the dock and shoved off in the heavily laden motorboat, with the canoe trailing behind.

As soon as they reached the island, Joe told Frank of the conversation at the hospital. Frank was pleased to learn that the Turners supported his theory about the jade piece.

Not long after supper, the boys turned in, hoping for a good night's sleep before embarking up the Kooniak next morning. Soon the camp was wrapped in silence.

But Frank was restless. Turning and tossing in his sleeping bag, he kept reviewing in his mind the baffling events that had happened since the Hardys had arrived in Alaska.

“Were those fish poachers mixed up in this mystery?” he asked himself. “And what about Robbie?…Looking for that gang in this wilderness may turn out to be a lot more difficult than we bargained for.”

Unable to sleep, Frank rose and pulled on his slacks, socks, and loafers. The luminous hands on his watch pointed to 12:20. He strolled toward the water, listening to the sighing of the night breeze in the tall pines.

Suddenly another sound broke the stillness—the soft splash of an oar, then a clink of metal containers rattling against one another! Frank strained his eyes in the darkness, every sense alert. He spotted a man in a boat. The next second he shouted:

“Wake up, fellows! Someone's stealing our canoe and gasoline!”

As Frank raced toward the dock, Joe, Chet, Ted, and Tony burst out of their tents and sprinted in their bare feet. Too late! The noise of a motor roaring into action told them the intruder was making a clean getaway!

Reaching the water's edge, Frank saw their canoe and gasoline untouched! The raider's boat kicked up a violent wake as it streaked off. Suddenly
the strange man stood upright and hurled something toward the island. As the object struck the little wooden dock next to the canoe, it burst with a dull thud and yellow flames shot high into the air!

Frank's face blanched in the blinding glare. “It's a fire bomb!” he yelled.

“T
ONY
, get some axes!” Frank commanded as the dock burst into flame. To the others he cried, “Follow me!”

As Tony dashed back to camp, Frank kicked off his loafers and plunged into the water. With his jackknife, he slashed the lines holding the boats.

“Chet, take our motorboat! Ted, grab yours!”

Joe, meanwhile, was frantically attaching the canoes by towlines to the crafts. “Okay! Take off!”

Chet and Ted revved up their motors and sped into the middle of the river. The Hardys, seared by the heat from the fiery dock, beached Tony's boat at a safe distance, then hastily scrambled ashore.

Tony was already hacking at the dock timbers. “There's an ax and a hatchet for you fellows!” he called.

Half the wooden structure was a crackling mass
of flames. Shielding their faces as best they could, the three boys quickly cut away the remaining supports. Then Frank levered up the planking with his ax.

“Okay! Into the water!” he gasped.

Straining every muscle the trio ripped up the flimsy structure and hurled it into the water. It sank with a hissing cloud of steam. Panting and streaked with perspiration, the boys watched as the flames died out.

“Wow!” Tony muttered. “If that fire had spread to the brush, our whole camp would have gone up in smoke!”

Once the danger was past, Chet and Ted returned with the boats and canoes. These were moored to the blackened stumps of the dock pilings. Then all the boys trudged back to camp.

“Good thing you were awake, Frank,” Ted remarked wryly.

“We should have kept up our night watches,” Joe added. “Tony, I think you and Chet need more protection after we three leave the island.”

“Let's report the incident to Juneau,” Frank suggested.

“I'll do it right now,” Tony replied.

Warming up his radio, he tuned to the agency's special frequency and spoke into the microphone: “Kooniak to Juneau!…Do you read me?”

Fortunately the station kept an operator on duty around the clock. After hearing Tony's report
of the fire-bomb attack, he consulted his superiors by telephone, and then called back. “We'll send out two men first thing in the morning!”