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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

BOOK: The Secret of the Caves
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“Wow!” said one of the college boys. “We could use you two on the Kenworthy football team.”
With that, the Delta Sigmas left.
Frank drove the Bayporters to the post office, located beside the town hall. A helpful clerk passed the postal directory over the counter and Frank thumbed through its pages.
“Hey, look at this,” he said. “There are only three Rockaways—one in Oregon, one in New Jersey, and the other on the coast down from Bayport.”
“It's a cinch we won't go to Oregon or New Jersey first,” Chet said. “You fellows will investigate the closest one or I miss my bet.”
“O genius of a treasure hunter!” declaimed Joe as he placed the right palm of his hand on his forehead and bowed low. “We, your humble servants, salaam!”
The others guffawed at the sudden look of embarrassment that swept over Chet's face as he cast his eyes quickly around the post office to see if anybody was watching. Seeing no one, Chet joined in the laughter.
Frank handed back the directory to the grinning clerk and thanked him. The boys, still laughing, trooped out of the post office.
“Well, our next destination—Rockaway!” Frank said. He added thoughtfully, “You know, this isn't a bad move. We'll leave here as if we've been stymied on our investigation.”
“That's right,” Joe said. “So if anyone has been tracking us, they'll think we've given up.” As an afterthought he added, “We ought to thank Cadmus Quill and the dean before we leave.”
“Let me go, too. Maybe I won't see the inside of a college again,” Chet quipped.
The four drove to the campus, parked, and entered the administration building.
Dean Eastland, as before, was courteous to his callers. After thanking Frank and Joe for their interest in the case, he promised to relay any new information to them.
“By the way, Dean Eastland,” Frank said, “would you send us the roster of Delta Sigma fraternity?”
“Of course,” the dean replied, and jotted down their Bayport address.
As the boys walked into the hallway they met Cadmus QuilL
“We're going back to Bayport,” Frank told him. “I'm sorry we couldn't find your friend Todd.”
“Anyhow,” said Joe, “thanks for your help, Mr. Quill.”
“Not at all,” replied the instructor as he shook hands with the two boys. “I'm sure there's no need to worry. I feel strongly that he's in Europe—probably already married.”
“It's possible,” Frank said. “Well, perhaps we'll see you again.”
“Come on, fellows,” Biff said as they left the building. “If I hang around this college campus any longer I'll be as smart as you are.”
“I'm itching for Honeycomb Caves,” Chet ban tered. “I feel in the need for some ready doubloons.”
As the boys hastened back to the Hardy car, Frank had the feeling that Cadmus Quill had followed them out of the building. When he slid behind the wheel he glanced into his rear-view mirror.
There stood Quill on the steps, gazing at them intently. Then he turned back to the door.
Suddenly, above the sound of the starting motor, Chet let out an Indian war whoop and yelled, “On to Rockawayl”
Frank, with his eyes still on the rear-view mirror, saw Quill stiffen and spin around.
CHAPTER VI
The Toppled Tower
CADMUS QUILL stood on the steps and stared at the boys with a startled look on his round face.
“That remark hit home!” Frank thought. He got out of the car, and ran up to Quill before he had a chance to retreat. “You seem interested in Rockaway,” Frank said bluntly, hoping to catch him off guard. “Do you know somebody there?”
Quill smiled. “I thought for a moment,” he replied casually, “that your friend had said
Far
Rockaway, in New York. I have an uncle who lives there.”
Frank was momentarily at a loss about how to pursue his line of questioning. This gave Quill time to turn on his heel. He strode off, saying, “I have a lecture to prepare. Good luck to you!”
Frank returned to the car, and as the boys drove back to the motel, he discussed with them Quill's peculiar actions.
Joe spoke up. “That uncle bit doesn't ring true. Quill is keeping back something, I'll bet.”
“Why should the name Rockaway strike him?” Chet wondered.
“Who knows?” Joe said. “Maybe he discovered the Rockaway clue in Todd's exam.”
“I don't get it,” Frank said as he parked in front of the cottage. “Quill knows we're detectives. If he did find the Rockaway clue, why didn't he tell us?”
“Maybe he wants to follow it himself,” Joe replied.
“This Cadmus Quill will bear watching,” remarked Biff, now thoroughly caught up in the excitement of the mystery.
Chet suggested that while the Hardys were packing, he and Biff would take his jalopy to a service station. “We want to check it out before starting the trip to Rockaway,” Chet said.
The brothers entered their quarters. While Joe tossed his belongings into his suitcase, Frank telephoned Bayport. Mr. Hardy answered.
“Frank,” he said, “I'm glad you called!” The boy was surprised at his father's clipped tone.
“What's the matter, Dad?” he asked.
“I'm afraid you and Joe will have to come home right away. It's urgent, and I'd rather not take time to explain it.”
“Okay, Dad. But just one thing,” Frank added quickly. “We're suspicious of a fellow named Cadmus Quill. Will you get us a confidential report on him, please?” Mr. Hardy promised and Frank hung up. “Something's gone haywire in Bayport,” he said to his brother, then repeated their father's message.
While Frank packed his belongings, Joe hustled over to the motel office to pay their bill. He returned to the car just as Frank was stowing the luggage into the trunk. At the same moment, Biff and Chet drove up.
“All set for the big adventure at Honeycomb Caves!” Chet sang out exuberantly. “Joe, I bet I get better mileage than you on the way to the coast.”
When the Hardys did not smile at the boast, Biff sensed something was wrong. “What's the matter, fellows?”
“We can't go with you—at least not now,” said Frank.
“Sorry to leave you in the lurch like this,” Joe added as he slid behind the wheeL
Frank told them about their father's cryptic message.
“Well, if you're needed in Bayport, I guess that's that,” Chet commented.
“We'll join you as soon as we can,” Frank promised.
“We'll be camping on the beach,” Chet said.
Grinning, Joe started the car. “So long, and don't join any fraternities!”
Joe held the speedometer needle at the maximum speed allowed, and the countryside flashed by. When they hit the turnpike, Frank spelled his brother at the wheeL Now, with greater speed, the miles melted past.
“She purrs like a kitten,” Frank said. “A great car, Joe.”
“Good thing we had the motor tuned up,” Frank remarked as the wind whipped through his hair.
After a quick stop for lunch, Joe drove away from the roadside restaurant.
“Want to listen to the news?”
“Okay. What country's having a war today?”
“Maybe someone has landed on the moon,” Frank said as he clicked on the high-powered transistor.
The first word to hit their ears was “Bayport.” Joe took his foot off the accelerator and Frank tuned the volume louder. The newscaster's report sent a shiver up their spines:
The radar tower on Telescope Hill had toppled over in a high wind!
“This must be the emergency Dad meant,” Frank said. “Come on. Let's go.”
Joe guided the car expertly along the freeway, and, slightly under six hours since they had left the town of Kenworthy, the Hardys pulled into their driveway.
As the boys carried their luggage in the back door, Mrs. Hardy met them.
“Hi, Mother,” said Frank. “Where's Dad?”
“At the radar site. He didn't have time to tell you all about it on the phone.”
“We heard the report on the car radio,” said Joe.
“Your father wants you to go right over,” Mrs. Hardy said.
The boys carried the suitcases to their rooms, splashed cold water on their faces, and hurried back to the car.
As they neared the construction site, traffic was slowed by the large trucks plying back and forth to the installation.
Finally they reached the gate. Frank parked the car, and he and Joe approached the guard. The brothers identified themselves.
“Our father is waiting for us inside,” Frank said.
With a nod of recognition the security man admitted them. Briskly Frank and Joe trotted up the incline which led to the top of Telescope Hill.
Joe gave a low whistle as they neared the toppled tower. It had cut a jagged scar in the woodland and lay twisted and broken. A number of men were inspecting it. Mr. Hardy, with a magnifying glass in one hand, was examining a girder at a point about five feet from the ground, where the steel superstructure had snapped off.
“You made good time,” the detective said as his sons ran up. He added quickly, “I'm sorry, but I won't need you, after all, boys. I found what I was looking for, soon after I summoned you.”
“What's that, Dad?” asked Frank.
“Look here,” the detective said, and handed him the magnifying glass.
The young sleuth studied the break in the steel. “I'll say you found something! Here, take a look, Joe.”
The younger boy also was amazed as he noticed that the break was smooth and clean except for a burr at the edge of the girder.
“This was cut almost all the way through to weaken the structure,” said Joe, “but I don't see any saw marks.”
“It was probably done with an electronic cutter,” Mr. Hardy remarked. “I've already reported this to the government men. Their chief engineer agrees with my theory.”
“And the high wind finished the job?” asked Joe.
“Exactly,” his father replied. He added that the saboteur had cut the line so straight and deep that the girder had been snapped off like a crisp cracker.
“We're up against a daring and well-equipped ring of saboteurs,” Frank commented as the three walked alongside the fallen tower.
“But I wasn't sure of that at first,” Mr. Hardy said. “That's why I needed you. I wanted you to do some undercover work to help me find out whether it really was sabotage.” He added that he had not revealed the nature of his urgent request for fear someone might have tapped his phone line. “I didn't want anyone to find out what I suspected.”
“Any information on Cadmus Quill?” Joe asked as they passed beneath a tall pine tree, the top of which had been sheared off by the tower.
“Nothing yet,” Mr. Hardy said. “A very reliable agency is checking into it. They'll send me the report in code.”
Suddenly the detective yelled, “Look out!” and gave Joe a push which sent him sprawling headlong onto the grass. Simultaneously a huge chunk of metal thudded to the ground inches from his body.
“Good grief! Where'd that come from?” Frank cried, looking up into the tall pine.
“A piece of the tower must have broken off and gotten stuck in the branches,” Mr. Hardy said. “You all right, Joe?”
The boy picked himself up, took a deep breath, and grinned. “Being a detective can be dangerous!” he said. “Thanks for the assist.”
The three Hardys went out the main gate. “Our car is parked close to yours, Dad,” Frank said.
A short time later father and sons entered their house together. After a late dinner with Mrs. Hardy, the tired sleuths turned in.
When the boys came down for breakfast the next morning they found their father already up.
“There's a letter for you, boys,” he said, pointing to the hall table.
Frank picked up the long, heavy envelope. “It's from Dean Eastland,” he said. “Must be the fraternity roster.”
As he spoke, the doorbell rang and Joe hurried to answer. It was a telegram for Mr. Hardy.
“The report on Quill,” Joe said eagerly.
“Bring it into my office,” his father said, leading the way.
The detective opened the telegram and studied the mysteriously coded message. Taking a pencil and pad, he unscrambled the code letter by letter. His sons looked on intently over his shoulder. The information was concise. “Cadmus Quill. Good student. Good family. Good reputation. Likes to travel. Made an extended tour of study abroad three years ago.”
“But look at the country he studied in!” Frank said excitedly.
Joe whistled. “The same one Todd visited last summer!”
“Dad,” Frank exclaimed, “do you know what this could mean?”
CHAPTER
VII
The Palais Paris
“I GET it!” Joe burst out. “Both Quill and Todd were brainwashed into helping a foreign power!”
Mr. Hardy spoke up. “Frank, what's your opinion ?”
“My theory,” Frank said, “is that maybe Todd and Quill had opposing views about this unfriendly country. Joe's jumping to conclusions and maybe I am too, but—”
Frank dropped into a thoughtful silence.
“Go on,” Mr. Hardy encouraged him. “You may be on the right track.”
“If Todd was against the country and Quill for it, maybe they had a quarrel.”
“Which could have led to Todd's disappearanre?” Joe asked.
His brother nodded. “And whoever ordered the fraternity to haze us in order to scare us off,” he added, “is in on the plot.” Frank was still holding the letter from Dean Eastland. “Maybe this will give us a clue.” He slit open the envelope and withdrew a printed pamphlet.

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