The Viking Symbol Mystery (13 page)

“That's Dulac!” he whispered to Frank. “The others look like the men we saw in the restaurant.”

All four men were carrying rifles as they tramped on toward the woods. As soon as they were out of sight among the trees, the three boys crept quietly from cover, and turned to track the men.

“Listen!” Chet stopped suddenly.

They heard a faint cry. “Pretty far away,” Joe said, listening.

“More wolves?” Chet looked apprehensive.

“I don't think that's any wolf!” Frank said seriously. “Sounds like a human voice! It's a cry for help!”

“A CRY for help!” Chet echoed, his eyes widening. “Who could it be?”

“There's one way to find out,” Frank said. “Let's go!” He headed in the direction of the voice, which called out again at just that moment. Moving quickly, he, Joe, and Chet followed the trail Dulac and his friends had been traveling.

Once again they heard the cry, though fainter this time. “Hurry!” Joe urged. “Someone must be hurt!”

The three spread out, covering the woods edging the narrow, winding trail. Suddenly Joe shouted:

“Over here! It's Caribou!”

Frank and Chet ran over. Shocked, they saw that the husky trapper lay beneath a spruce tree, bound hand and foot with rawhide thongs. His eyes were closed and his head moved from side to side. He groaned as if in pain.

“He has a bad gash on his forehead,” Frank said, bending down to untie their friend. “He's semiconscious.”

“Those rats must have left him here for the wolves,” Chet said hotly, as he pulled out his canteen to bathe Caribou's head.

“We could take better care of him at the plane,” Joe said. “Let's carry him there.”

The Hardys and Chet hoisted the heavy man and slowly made their way back to the float plane. The boys' muscles ached with the burden of both their equipment and the unconscious woodsman. But finally they reached the secret cove. After they laid the trapper down in the shade of a tree, Chet got out the first-aid kit and cleaned and bandaged Caribou's wound. After a few minutes the French-Canadian stirred and blinked his eyes. He tried to sit up. but sank back with a moan.

“Easy,” Joe cautioned him.

“Bon tonnerre!”
Caribou exclaimed weakly. “My head is split!” Then he looked at the boys. “My friends! How did you get here?”

The three grinned at him reassuringly. “We'll tell you later,” Frank said. “Lucky thing we heard you calling. What happened?”

“I trail Dulac to park,” the trapper replied. “Early this morning, follow him again, then suddenly four men jump out from the bush behind me and hit me on the head. That is the last thing I remember.” His face grew flushed. “I was a fool!” he stormed. “Dulac and Kelly must be the masked men who took the stone and money.”

“Who are the men with Dulac now?” Frank asked.

“All thieves—they have the rune stone!” Caribou answered. “Last night I sneak up on their hideout—a cave. I stood outside and hear them talk about the stone.”

Caribou rubbed his head gingerly. “Other three men called Mike, Red, and Fats.”

“Must be the guys we saw with Dulac a short while ago,” Joe said excitedly. “But they didn't have the stone.”

“No,” Caribou said, “because it is in their cave. I hear them complain they cannot read the message on it. Kelly was to translate it but he got caught.”

“Did you hear anything else?” Chet put in.

“Oui,”
Caron replied gravely. “They will kidnap Monsieur Baker-Jones. Make him tell what the stone says.”

“What!” Joe exclaimed. “I thought we had the gang fooled about Baker-Jones!”

Caribou looked doubtful. “The robbers think he is in Edmonton.”

“What'll we do now?” Chet asked the Hardys.

“Get the rune stone,” Frank replied coolly. “How do you feel, Caribou?”

“It takes more than a sock on the head to keep Caribou away,” the trapper said, rising to his feet. “We go to the robbers' cave!”

The three boys eagerly fell into step behind him. Swiftly and silently they followed the trapper for what seemed like miles. The trail led around the shore of Shag Lake, and north into the woods. Caribou strode to the foot of a hill, stopped, and pointed.

“The cave is over this hill,” he whispered. “If I can fool the crooks, you boys run inside and try to find the stone. I will meet you at your plane.”

“Right,” Frank said. “We're ready.”

Caribou climbed the slope and went around some huge boulders to approach the hideout from the opposite direction. The boys, meanwhile, crawled straight up to the top of the hill where they could see the mouth of the cave. By this time Caribou had edged close to the entrance. He stood up and hurled a stone into the hideout.

A moment later Dulac emerged. He stared out into the sunlight, his hand shading his eyes from the glare.

“Dulac!” Caribou roared. “You goat! You weasel!” Then the big trapper staggered back, pretending to be overcome by weakness.

“It's Caron!” Dulac shouted back into the cave. “He's free!” Dulac ran toward the trapper, who began to back away from the cave. Three men emerged from the hideout and took up the chase.

Soon Caribou and his pursuers were out of sight behind the boulders. Frank, Joe, and Chet sped to the cave and dashed inside.

“Hurry!” Frank said breathlessly. “We haven't much time. We must find the rune stone!”

The three boys searched frantically through the knapsacks lying around the rocky floor.

“Hey! The book stolen from the Bayport Library.” Joe held up a red volume he had pulled from a canvas sack.
“Rune Stones and Viking Symbols
by Peter Baker-Jones!”

“Keep it, Joe,” Frank said. “We're on the right track.”

He began shaking out four bedrolls, while Chet rooted through boxes of gear. When they were through, Frank shook his head disgustedly. “No luck! The stone isn't here!” he said.

Just then Chet spotted a long loaf of crusty bread on top of a box. “I'm starving!” he muttered.

“Chet! We must get out of here!” Frank warned, as his chubby friend hacked at the loaf with a knife.
Scrape!

“Talk about stale bread!” Chet exclaimed, attacking the loaf again. “Hard as a rock!”

“Rock!” Frank echoed, grabbing the loaf. To his amazement, the whole top came off in his hand. Nestled inside was a long, odd-shaped stone with angular markings.

“The rune stone!” Frank cried out.

“This must be the real one!” Joe said joyfully. “Chet, it's a good thing you got hungry!”

Frank scooped up the rune stone, and clutching it tightly, led the way as they all fled from the cave. As they headed for the hilltop, the boys saw two of the gang coming up the other side of the slope.

“Whew!” Chet panted. “We got out of there just in time!”

He and the Hardys sprinted silently through the high grass and into the woods. They followed the lightly blazed trail that led to the secret cove.

“Oh, no!” Joe suddenly exclaimed, stopping in his tracks. “I've dropped the book!”

“There's no time to go back, Joe,” Frank said, urging him forward.

The boys continued along the path and finally reached the hidden float plane. Frank jumped into the cockpit. As Joe and Chet were climbing up, Caribou came crashing through the bushes at the edge of the cove.

“Bon tonnerre, mes amis!”
the trapper shouted. “Hurry! There is no time to spare!”

He rushed to the plane and gave it a mighty push, then jumped in. The craft floated out into the cove.

“Go, Frank!” screamed the French-Canadian, his beard jutting out with excitement. “Dulac off the track now, but not for long.”

Frank hit the starter and the engine caught at once. Not worrying about the wind, Frank pressed home the throttle. He would have to make a crosswind take-off.

The roar of the plane was loud in their ears as they saw Dulac and his men appear on the shore. The boys watched Dulac raise his rifle. They could not hear the shots but they saw the wind snatch a wisp of smoke away from the muzzle.

Suddenly Frank felt the aircraft dip slightly to starboard. He knew they were not up on the step and the shock had not been hard enough for them to have hit a piece of floating debris.

“It's the floats!” Joe shouted. “He's hit the Boats! If they flood, we'll never get off the water!”

“THE floats!” Frank thought. He knew they would be compartmented. But how well would the bulkheads between each compartment hold if more than one was Hooded?

The young pilot felt the extra weight of water on the right side of the aircraft dragging it to starboard. He knew he was in trouble.

Placing enough pressure on the rudder bar to straighten out the plane, Frank gently forced the stick over to the left. The engine was laboring against the extra weight, but the plane was picking up speed through the water.

He felt the right wing lift. As it did so, the starboard float cleared the water and the left float came up on the step.

Immediately the plane picked up speed, and as Frank eased the stick back a hair, they were airborne and away.

Frank pushed the stick forward to drop the nose and pick up more speed. Then he pulled back and they were swooping over the trees.

“Whew!” Chet breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, what about the landing at Fort Smith?”

“Shouldn't be any trouble,” Frank said. “Any water that got in probably would have run out by now.”

Joe radioed a message to his father that they were on the way and would meet him at the RCMP station. After setting down at Fort Smith, the boys and Caribou went directly to headquarters.

Mr. Hardy and Corporal Fergus were waiting for them. Quickly Frank gave the details of the gang's attack on Caribou and their narrow escape in the plane.

“And,” Joe said, grinning, “we brought you a present, Dad! Right, Frank?”

“You bet.” Frank had rolled his sweater around the rune stone. Now he unwrapped the ancient tablet and handed it to his father.

“Great work, boys!” said the detective in delighted surprise. “I can hardly believe it!”

“Congratulations!” added Corporal Fergus.

“We're pretty sure this stone is genuine,” Frank told the men, “since the thieves went to the trouble of hiding it in a loaf of bread.” He grinned. “Chet had to go without something to eat.”

The plump boy feigned a look of starvation. “At this point I
could
eat rocks.”

Mr. Hardy suggested that he and the boys have a quick bite at a nearby restaurant. After eating, Frank said, “Dad, let's take this stone to Mr. Baker-Jones as soon as possible, and also warn him to be on his guard against the thieves' kidnaping plan. Maybe we should notify the police.”

“I'll do that,” said Mr. Hardy, “and we should be on our way. There's a flight out of here early this evening. Will you call, Joe, and make reservations for four?”

“Sure thing, Dad.”

“Please, Mr. Hardy,” Caribou spoke up. “I go with you to Edmonton. Dulac and his gang will not give up the stone so easy. You will be in danger. I will protect you!”

“We appreciate your offer, Caribou,” Mr. Hardy said. “But with your long whiskers I'm afraid the crooks would spot us a mile off!”

Caribou grinned. “I can get a shave and hair-cut right away.” He looked at the detective hopefully.

“Fine.” Mr. Hardy smiled. “Joe, make that reservation for five.”

The trapper beamed and strode off. When he returned in a half hour, he had short hair and was clean shaven.

“Caribou,” Joe said in amazement, “I'd hardly recognize you myself!”

The French-Canadian grinned. “I am something like a plucked chicken, no?” he asked.

They all laughed, then left to get ready for the trip. The boys returned the rented equipment to Bill Stone and took fresh clothes from their suitcases at the Hudson's Bay Company store. Later, they met Mr. Hardy at his hotel.

“Any word from Sam and the fellows?” Joe asked his father.

The detective said Radley had just reported by radio that an unidentified float plane had been sighted. “Sam thinks the rest of the gang might be using it,” Mr. Hardy added. “He and the boys are working on that angle.”

The flight to Edmonton was nonstop, but it was too late for the group to visit Peter Baker-Jones in the convalescent home that night.

Directly after breakfast the following morning, the five left for the suburb of Edmonton. When they arrived at the large, old house that was now converted to a nursing home, they inquired at the reception desk and the attendant said that they might go right up to see the rune stone expert. Caribou waited downstairs to keep watch for anyone suspicious.

“We won't mention the kidnap threat to Mr. Baker Jones,” Mr. Hardy decided. When he and the boys entered the patient's room, they found him sitting up in an easy chair, reading.

“Good morning,” said the Englishman, nodding formally at the visitors. He looked much stronger and had more color than when they had last seen him.

“I have a surprise for you.” Frank smiled and brought out the tablet. “We hope you'll find this to be the genuine rune stone.”

Mr. Baker-Jones's reserve gave way to great enthusiasm. He listened with keen interest to the boys' account of their adventures in finding the relic in the cave hideout.