Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

The Viking Symbol Mystery (10 page)

BOOK: The Viking Symbol Mystery

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“Think the fellows you saw might be the thieves?” Tony asked Frank and Joe.

“We couldn't tell, of course,” Frank replied. “How about our finding out, though?”

“I suggest we go up there tonight and investigate,” Sam advised. “If the men are members of the gang, we don't want to scare them off.”

The others concurred, and as soon as darkness had fallen that evening, the group set out. They went down to the dock and climbed into a boat with an outboard that Sam had rented. They used the motor until they drew near the spot where Frank and Joe had seen the diggers, then turned it off and rowed to shore. They beached the craft and crept along the sandy bank.

Suddenly Joe whispered, “Someone has a fire burning.”

The group headed silently toward the glowing light. Like trained and skillful woodsmen, they approached without a sound. Ahead, six rough-looking, unshaven men were seated around a small, dying campfire. They evidently had just finished eating supper, and were leaning back, relaxed. The boys and Sam could not make out the men's features in the flickering, uncertain light.

Suddenly one of the campers spoke. “How's the translation of the stone coming?” he asked.

The man seated next to him shrugged and answered, “I'm making progress on the symbols, but slowly.”

Frank turned to Sam Radley and whispered excitedly, “Symbols! These men must be the rune stone crooks!”

Radley nodded in agreement. “Okay, fellows,” he murmured. “We may be able to take them off guard and capture the whole crew!”

In whispered agreement they decided that upon a signal from Radley, the pursuers would swoop down on their quarry. Chet nodded and rubbed his damp palms together, then set himself for the spring. But before Radley could say “charge,” Chet's right toe snagged on a vine and down he went with an “oomph” that resounded through the stillness of the dark forest.

“Oh, for Pete's sake!” Joe moaned.

“Get 'em!” Radley shouted.

The six strangers, however, had been amply warned, and were on their way before the boys could move in. Snatching up their gear, they ran off into the darkness with muttered curses. Only one man straggled, and Joe pounced on him.

The rest clustered around Joe as he pulled the lone captive to his feet. The Hardys gasped and exclaimed in surprise,
“Kelly!”

The thin, pale captive, not wearing a head bandage, showed no change of expression. He stared at the brothers with cold, blank eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Joe snapped. “Where's the Viking rune stone?”

Kelly remained sullenly silent.

“I guess he's not talking, boys,” said Radley. “Let's search his duffle.”

Joe picked up the canvas bag and pulled out the contents. Among the camping equipment he found an odd-shaped package wrapped in brown paper. “Look!” he cried, untying it and holding up a slab of stone about eighteen inches long and six inches wide. It was covered with angular, slanting lines.

“The rune stone!” Joe cried. “We've found it!”

Sam Radley and Tony, meanwhile, had securely bound the prisoner. They joined the others in scrutinizing the heavy stone and its strange markings.

“I guess one mystery is almost solved,” Chet said, beaming.

“We'd better not count on that until we get Kelly back to Hay River and the stone's authenticity is verified,” Sam Radley said.

The Hardys agreed. “Also,” Frank said, “we have to track down the rest of the gang and find out whether or not they
are
the lodge thieves.”

The captors took Kelly back to the boat with them, then motored swiftly to Hay River and went directly to the Mountie station with the fugitive from Bayport.

“Fine work, boys,” the inspector on duty said, after hearing their story. “I'll hold this man and contact Police Chief Collig for verification.”

The police took the still-silent prisoner into custody and said that they would let the Hardys and Radley know if he revealed anything under questioning.

When Frank and Joe showed them the stone, the Mounties were amazed and impressed by the find. “This
looks
like the real thing,” the officer said, examining the carved tablet.

“I told you!” Chet exulted to his companions.

Sam Radley shook his head doubtfully. “I'm not convinced,” he said.

“Me either,” Frank declared. “Getting the stone back seemed too easy!”

“Well,” Joe put in, “I'm not such a pessimist. I'm going to call Dad and tell him our news.”

“Help yourself.” The officer gestured to his telephone. Joe placed the call to his father in Edmonton.

“Good work!” said Mr. Hardy, after hearing the full story. “But don't jump to conclusions!”

“All right, Dad,” said Joe. “What's our next move?”

“You and Frank bring the stone to Edmonton,” the detective replied. “Tell the others to stay in Hay River and keep out of sight. Ask Sam to contact me every day.”

“Will do, Dad,” Joe said. “See you soon. So long.”

The Mountie agreed to let the boys take the stone along and had them sign a receipt for it.

After Joe had relayed his father's instructions to his companions, the whole group went to bed, tired from the excitement of the evening.

The next day the Hardys made the flight to Edmonton, arriving in the late afternoon. It was a smooth trip, and when they landed at the bustling airport, the boys hurried to the terminal.

Frank carried the stone, carefully wrapped and tied.

As they rushed outside to a taxi, Frank stopped suddenly and pointed to a stack of newspapers on a stand close by. The Hardys stared in astonishment at a headline on the first page:

RUNE STONE FOUND
Hardy and Sons Return to States

CHAPTER XII

Offbeat Assignment

“COME on. Let's find out what this is all about!” Frank urged.

He and Joe taxied directly to the hotel where their father was staying. They walked swiftly through the lobby and took the elevator to the detective's suite.

When Mr. Hardy opened the door, both boys started to speak at once. “The rune stone case is solved?” Frank asked, and Joe said, “We saw the newspaper ...”

They broke off in surprise when the detective smiled broadly. “Come in,” he said. “I'll explain.”

He shut the door. Frank and Joe quickly sat down. “The Edmonton newspaper,” Mr. Hardy continued, “has agreed to cooperate with us on this rune stone business. That headline about our returning home was to throw the thieves still at large off course.” He chuckled. “In the same way it did you two.”

“I get it,” Frank said. “In case the stone is a fake.”

Joe gave a low whistle. “Neat maneuver.”

Frank then unwrapped the stone for his father's inspection. “When can we find out if this is genuine, Dad?”

“Perhaps tomorrow,” the detective answered. “Mr. Baker-Jones is much better, but the doctor in charge said that he should gain strength for a day before we talk to him.”

Mr. Hardy examined the stone and its markings closely.

“It certainly fits the description we got,” Joe observed hopefully.

“Yes, it does,” Mr. Hardy agreed. “But we'll find out positively when Baker-Jones sees it.”

That evening the three had dinner in the seclusion of the detective's hotel room. The next morning, as soon as the hospital would allow them to see the London Museum representative, the Hardys rushed over with the rune stone.

When they entered his room, Peter Baker-Jones was sitting up in bed. He looked pale and weak. The tall Englishman, who wore a neatly clipped mustache, acknowledged Mr. Hardy's introductions formally. But upon hearing why they had come, the patient's eyes brightened.

“The rune stonel” His voice shook with excitement. “Please! Let me see it quickly!”

Mr. Hardy unwrapped the stone, and handed it to the expert on runic writings. The man put on his eyeglasses and carefully studied the tablet as the visitors waited tensely. A look of disappointment spread over the Englishman's face.

“This stone is not authentic,” he said wearily, but with certainty. “I can tell by the sharp edges of the lines that it was not carved in the ninth century. It is a rather clever imitation.”

“Soâthis Viking stone
was
fakedâto decoy us off the case if the opportunity should arise,” Joe said angrily. “Boy! Are they clever! We'll have to work fast before the crooks decipher the real one and find the treasure.”

The Londoner was greatly agitated. “How can they be stopped?” he asked.

The Hardys gave him a rapid account of their sleuthing, and the older detective said, “We'll let the gang think their ruse worked.”

Frank now told the men of his belief that the lodge thieves operating around Great Slave Lake and the rune stone robbers were the same gang.

Mr. Hardy smiled. “I agree. All we have to do is prove itâand capture the other gang members.”

“How can we convince them we've given up the case,” Joe asked, “if we continue to search for them?”

“The thieves must be made to believe we've returned to the States, and Mr. Baker-Jones to England,” the detective replied.

Mr. Hardy then revealed a plan he had worked out. He suggested that the museum representative be taken secretly to a convalescent home outside Edmonton. “You can regain your strength there, Mr. Baker-Jones, and when we find the real rune stone, we'll need your help for verification.”

Mr. Baker-Jones acceded to this suggestion. Fenton Hardy talked to the hospital authorities, and it was agreed that the Englishman would be moved quietly the next morning. When the Hardys left Baker-Jones, they told him that they would contact him at the convalescent home.

“Now let's get down to police headquarters,” Mr. Hardy said. “We're going to need one of their men.”

When they arrived, the detective and his sons hurried to Inspector Knight's office. After an exchange of greetings and news, Mr. Hardy asked him, “Is there a tall, thin man in your department we can borrow, Inspector?”

The man's eyebrows raised in surprise, but he answered, “Yes, there is. And you're welcome to use his services.”

Frank grinned. “Dad, you're planning another impersonationâonly not for yourselfâright?”

“Exactly!” The detective went on to explain that he, Joe, and Frank would board a plane for the States, taking with them someone to pose as Peter Baker-Jones.

The inspector nodded understandingly. “And that's the role for my man. I'll get him now.”

Knight left his office and returned with a tall policeman. “This is Officer Brent.”

“Let's see how you look with a mustache,” Mr. Hardy said, after explaining the ruse. The detective handed Brent a false mustache.

When the officer held it in place, Joe burst out, “Terrific! With a hat and raincoat on, no one will know you're not Peter Baker-Jones!”

The group agreed to meet at the Hardys' hotel later that afternoon. They would take the plane bound for England, but would get off at Calgary.

The boys and Mr. Hardy returned to their hotel. After a late lunch, they left for the airport with “Mr. Baker-Jones,” who was bundled up and walking slowly, the two boys supporting him. Joe carried a suitcase. When they boarded the plane, Mr. Hardy whispered to Frank, “I think our plan is working. I'm sure we're being watched!”

The airliner took off for the United States on schedule, and when it dropped down at Calgary, the four alighted. The policeman went into the rest room, and when he rejoined the others, he was minus his disguise and carrying the suitcase.

The Hardys said good-by and thanked him as he rushed off to make the next flight back to Edmonton.

“We'll go straight to Hay River,” Mr. Hardy told his sons. “There's a flight by way of Saskatoon this afternoon.”

They had dinner on the plane and arrived at Hay River late that night. It was still light, since the Arctic summer sun was just setting.

“We're logging more miles than a veteran airline pilot,” said Frank, yawning.

“We could use a good night's sleep,” Mr. Hardy agreed. “We'll hunt for Sam and the boys tomorrow.”

The next morning the three sleuths were up early. At breakfast, Joe said, “The Mounties probably can tell us where Sam and the fellows are hiding.”

“We'll check with them,” his father said.

When they arrived at the RCMP station, the officer in charge told the famous detective and his sons the route to the hiding place of Radley and the three boys.

“They're in an abandoned schoolhouse on the northern outskirts of town,” said the officer, spreading out a map on the desk. Pointing with a pencil, he continued, “If you follow this trail, you'll come to a field. The schoolhouse is right beyond that.”

The Hardys thanked him and left the station, going by way of back streets to the edge of town. They made their way through the high grass of the field and came upon a ramshackle wooden school building. When they knocked, there was no answer until Mr. Hardy identified himself. Suddenly the door was pulled open and the trio stepped inside.

“Boy! Are we glad to see you back in one piece!” Chet grinned as they all shook hands.

“So far so good!” Joe laughed.

The Hardys' friends listened closely while the detectives related the recent events in Edmonton.

“I thought that stone was a fake,” Sam said grimly.

“Have you found any clues to the gang's hideout?” Joe asked him.

BOOK: The Viking Symbol Mystery

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