The Secret Warning (16 page)

“But why were you shipping the fake in the first place?” Chet asked. “You couldn't have known beforehand the
Katawa
would sink in a collision.”

“To palm it off on somebody!” Joe put in.

“Quite so. I intended to sell the—er—reproduction to a wealthy South American collector—whose agent had examined the original in Beirut.” Zufar laughed. “Clever? At any rate, I felt the chance of doubling my profits was worth the risk.”

Meanwhile, Zufar explained, the real head had been sent on to Bogdan to sell secretly elsewhere.

“Then came the sinking.” The art dealer shook his head sadly. “But it enabled me, of course, to claim a million dollars in insurance—if the fake head were never salvaged.”

“So you sent down your own diver?” Frank interjected.

“Exactly. But unfortunately our man was unable to get through to the strong room before the
Petrel
arrived.”

Captain Rankin, who had been standing grim-faced, now broke out in an angry voice, “Then Frank and Joe were right! You took out the telegraph and tachometer instead—as a cover-up for the hole in the
Katawa
hull!”

At this, Bogdan stuck his face close to the Hardys. “Smart kids! We'll see how smart you are when we sink you forty fathoms under!”

Chills crawled up the boys' spines, but Frank, undaunted, pressed further. “Who was your diver?”

Zufar pointed to a swarthy, thickset man. One of Bogdan's employees! He chuckled. “And also the ‘ghost' who gave you such a hard time on Whalebone Island.”

Joe glared at the diver. “So you blinked the signals, conked our Dad, and set off the explosion.”

It was further learned that he also had stolen Lawson's rental boat, left the warning note, ransacked Mr. Hardy's camp, and stove the hole in his boat.

Zufar went on, “Our diver's ‘ghost' camouflage was quite useful, since he had to stay on the island while working on the
Katawa.
He returned, you see, after you left the island the first time.”

“What about the ghost we saw at home?” Joe put in.

“That was me,” Bogdan spoke up.

“So there were two of you playing the ghost game,” said Frank.

“Yes,” Bogdan replied. “It was another of my brilliant ideas. I had heard the legend of Whalebone Island, and thus thought of reviving Red Rogers' spirit.”

“No wonder you looked familiar the first time we saw you at your shop!” Frank muttered.

Joe glared at the grinning art dealer and his cohorts. “You're a slick actor, Zufar! I suppose the broken-cat business with Mr. Scath was just an act to set the stage for my father's kidnapping.”

“Mostly that—but also, partly, to make myself appear innocent of any hint of fraud.”

Frank spoke up, “That gelignite booby trap on the
Katawa
this morning—did your man plant it?”

Zufar nodded. “Thanks to Egner's timely warning by radio that your diver was close to the strong room. A pity it failed.”

“How about the warning cablegram from Cairo?” Joe said. “Was Van Hoek in your pay too?”

“Not only that—he made our counterfeit Pharaoh's head. We hoped the cablegram might serve as a false lead, perhaps even frighten your father off the case.” Zufar sneered. “Unfortunately, Van Hoek himself is a superstitious fool! The thought of the Pharaoh's curse began to prey on his mind and he finally fled from Cairo. We have lost track of him.”

“We're wasting time, gabbing with these brats, Zufar!” Bogdan snarled. “Let's open the seacocks and sink this tub!”

“Quite right, quite right, my friend. But first we must have these five drag their shipmates below. It will be much better, I think, if no bodies float to the surface.”

“Oh yeah?” a harsh voice broke in. “Maybe that's what you bilge rats will be doin' when
we
get through with you!”

Men were suddenly swarming over the rail!

Joe let out a yelp of joy. “It's Gus Bock and his buddies!”

The burly diver leaped aboard, with fists swinging. Kraus, Fosburg, Ryan, and the Salvor's captain joined the fray. Bock paused long enough to free the Hardys and the others.

Zufar's henchmen, stunned by the swift turn of events, fought back, wildly brandishing their weapons.

“Stop them! Stop them!” the fat ringleader shrilled, his voice rising hysterically. The next instant Bock seized him and drew back a mighty fist. Zufar begged for mercy. “D-don't hit met I give up.”

Frank spotted Bogdan about to swing himself over the rail. The young sleuth leaped toward him and pinioned the curio dealer's arms. Kraus, nearby, sent a rocketing uppercut to the jaw of the “ghost” diver, who crumpled to the deck.

Joe and Chet had succeeded in disarming and capturing two more of the enemy.

Finally Zufar's gang were completely subdued. By this time most of the Petrel's unconscious crewmen had revived. Roland Perry also had come to.

With Zufar, Bogdan, and the other prisoners tied and locked in a cabin, warm handshakes were exchanged between the Petrel's men and their rescuers.

“Looks as though we're all square now—eh, Gus?” Perry said with a grin.

“Who says, bubblehead?” Bock retorted. “I told you we were gonna cut you guys in on the U-boat dough and we are! In fact, we were just bringin' it over to you when we got wind of what was goin' on aboard.”

He emptied a canvas bag onto the captain's desk. The Hardys and Chet gasped as bundles of water-soaked green currency came tumbling out!

“There you are, pals! Your share—a hundred grand. Divvy it up any way you like. The stuff got a bit water-logged in the chest, but you can still spend it.”

Perry and his mates stared in astonishment, unable to find words. Then Frank peeled off a soggy bill and held it up.

“Careful,” Bock advised. “That dough's been down in Davy Jones's locker so long it almost comes apart in your fingers.”

Frank nodded, kneading the fibers of the bill. “I know—that's what I want it to do. Gus, unless I'm off-base, this money's counterfeit, probably manufactured by the Nazis themselves.”

“What!” Bock seemed on the verge of apoplexy.

Joe inspected the bill. “I think Frank's right,” he said. “We once helped our dad in a case involving counterfeit money and learned a few pointers about detecting phony currency. One way is from the paper itself. I'll bet anything this isn't the same composition as paper used for American money.”

Bock stared glassy-eyed at his companions. At first the Hardys thought he might put his fist through the bulkhead in sheer rage. But suddenly the big diver tossed his head back and burst into bellows of laughter.

“What a bunch of saps we are! All that trouble we went to, and the dough turns out to be fake!”

Kraus could only shake his head and mutter,
“Ach du lieber Himmel!”

“We could be wrong,” Frank said.

“Somehow I got a feeling you ain't.” Bock slapped him on the back. “But never mind, we'll all hang onto this funny money till we find out for sure.”

A little later the Hardys contacted Sam Radley. They were overjoyed to learn their father had fully recuperated and would be out of the hospital the next day. Sam assured the boys he would give Mr. Hardy full details of their sleuthing success.

“Splendid work, fellows,” the operative added.

Two days later Fenton Hardy confirmed his sons' verdict about the money when he and Sam Radley boarded the
Petrel
at its pier in New York.

“Bock and Kraus aren't the only ones who were misled,” Mr. Hardy added. “That goldsmith Van Hoek is now under arrest.”

“No kidding!” Joe exclaimed. “Where'd they nail him, Dad?”

“In Amsterdam, on several counts of art forg. ery. He stepped off the plane from Cairo and walked straight into the arms of the Dutch police.”

Chet flashed a wise look at his two chums. “When you received the secret warning I had a hunch the Pharaoh's curse was no laughing matter. It sure caught up with Zufar and his gang.” He hooked his thumbs into his belt. “Now that this case is closed,” he said with an air of satisfaction, “we can relax a little. Hey! How about going to Captain Early's place and—”

“Eating more juicy lamb chops, I suppose,” Joe put in with a quick smile.

“Aw! Quit reading my mind!”

“Wait! I Chet has a point,” Frank concluded. “I think Captain Early should get a firsthand report of the final salvo.”

“And I'll present the cane,” Chet said.

With a victory whoop, the boys set off, unaware at the moment that The Twisted Claw, their next mystery, soon would plunge them into another harrowing adventure.