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CHAPTER 13. The Fleeing Ghost






 

THE trio skidded across the glassy surface, with arms and legs flailing, until they came to a halt several yards from the overturned Seagull.

The Hardys had the breath knocked out of them but had suffered no injuries. Mr. Jefferson, however, lay motionless. Greatly concerned, the boys jumped up and hurried to the elderly man's side.

«He's unconscious!» Frank said, and pointed to a swelling lump on Mr. Jefferson's temple.

Joe ran to the Seagull and returned with a blanket, in which they quickly wrapped the man. Frank chafed his wrists until Mr. Jefferson began to stir and moan. «We're going to crash!» he whispered.

«No, Mr. Jefferson,» Frank said in a reassuring tone. «The ice-yacht turned over, but we're all safe.»

Their passenger raised his head and looked around. «Will you help me up, boys?» he asked. «I'm sure I haven't broken anything.»

Carefully the brothers assisted him to stand. «Take it easy,» Joe cautioned. «You had a bad spill.»

«I'm all right. Just a bit shaky.»

«We'll get you back to the cabin where it's warm just as fast as we can,» Frank promised. «You're in no shape for a run to Bayport.» He and Joe righted the Seagull and saw with relief that the mast was not damaged.

«The runner plank's a little out of alignment,» Frank noted.

«That won't delay us,» Joe said. «The bow's scraped too, but there's nothing we can't fix.»

Frank eyed the improvised seat belts which had torn loose. «They couldn't take the strain,» he remarked. The boys retied the ropes.

«That'll have to do for now,» Joe said. «We were lucky this accident wasn't worse,» he added as the boys helped Mr. Jefferson into the cockpit.

«I'd like to report those ruffians,» the elderly man fumed, «but we couldn't see their faces.»

Frank said grimly, «We know the owners of the boat. They covered up the name, but I'd recognize the Hawk anywhere.»

«That's no help, though,» Joe added glumly. «We still can't prove Ike and Tad were the ones who attacked us.»

In a few moments the Seagull was skimming towards Cabin Island. As they approached the boathouse, Joe suddenly pointed. «Frank!» he cried out. «Do you see what I see?»

«Yes! The ghost!»

The mysterious white-robed figure was halfway up to the cabin. It was proceeding stealthily through the bushes and pines that grew thickly on the incline. As Mr. Jefferson stared ahead startled, Joe grasped the camera to which the telescopic lens was still attached.

«I'm going to sake another shot of that fellow.»

His brother restrained him. «Wait! You'll only get his back. Let's sneak up close to him and see if we can get a face view.»

«Good idea,» Mr. Jefferson said approvingly. «You boys go ahead. I'll wait in the boat.»

A moment later the Hardys braked the craft and tied it to a tree alongside the boathouse. Silently they hurried up the wooded slope until they were a snort distance behind the ghostlike figure.

A sudden idea struck Frank. He took out his police whistle and showed it to his brother. «Maybe this'll help us nab him,» he whispered.

Joe nodded. «Got you.» Cautiously the two advanced towards the prowler, who had now stopped and was peering out at the cabin from behind a tree. When the boys were a couple of yards away they paused also. Frank gave a signal, and as Joe raised the camera, blew a shrill blast on the whistle.

The «ghost» whirled about, and Joe snapped the picture. Frank blew several more blasts in rapid succession, and the robed figure bolted across the slope. At the same instant, Chet and Biff burst from the cabin and looked around wildly.

«Catch him!» Frank cried as he and Joe broke into a run.

All four boys bounded after the ghostly form, who darted nimbly in and out of the trees like a frightened deer. Dusk was beginning to fall and it was not long before the boys lost sight of the white robe against the snow.

They paused for breath, straining their eyes to pierce the gathering gloom. Then Frank barely made out the fleeing figure at the bottom of the hill. The pursuers plunged downwards, but by the time they reached the spot, the «ghost» had vanished. There was not a sign of him on the ice.

Doggedly the boys continued to search along the shoreline, but had no luck. At last Joe said glumly, «No use going any farther. It's too dark to see.»

Frank agreed. «We'd better get back and pick up Mr. Jefferson.»

On the way to the boathouse, the Hardys told Biff and Chet of the accident to the Seagull, deliberately caused by the Hawk.

Biff knotted his fists angrily. «I'd sure like to give those two guys a good stiff wallop.»

«Of course we don't know for sure that they were Ike and Tad,» Joe pointed out.

«Who else?» Chet groaned. «Some relaxing vacation this is!»

The young sleuths reached the Seagull and found Mr. Jefferson waiting anxiously for news. «Afraid the 'ghost' escaped again, sir,» Frank said regretfully, helping the old gentleman from the boat.

As the group walked slowly up the hill, Mr. Jefferson shook his head, plainly disturbed. «Something very sinister is happening here. I certainly want to find out who is responsible, and what his motive is, but I do not want you boys getting into danger on my account.»

«We'll keep on our guard,» Joe assured him. «But we're all determined to see this mystery through.»

«You can bet on that!» Biff declared stoutly.

Inside the cabin, Chet added logs to the fire as Joe eagerly took the picture from the self-developing camera. «Now we'll get a look at our ghost,» he said.

The others crowded around and Joe held up the photograph of a young, dark-skinned man with startled eyes.

«Seems to be the same as the one in the first picture I took,» Joe observed.

«At least we'll recognize his features if we spot him again,» Frank said.

Mr. Jefferson sank down on the sofa and sighed wearily. «I give up. This mystery is too much for me.»

Frank urged him to rest for a while. The elderly man, smiling wanly, stretched out.

«You'd better plan to stay overnight, Mr. Jefferson,» Joe advised.

«I'd like to. I haven't spent a night on Cabin Island in years.»

Meanwhile, Chet had gone into the kitchen and in a short time announced that supper was ready. Everyone did full justice to the hearty meal of fried chicken and hot biscuits. Afterward Frank offered their host the use of his sleeping bag.

«Thanks a lot, but I don't like to put you out.»

«I insist, Mr. Jefferson,» Frank said. «We fellows will take turns standing guard tonight, anyhow, so only three of us will be sleeping at a time.»

A nervous look crossed Chet's face. «And I can guess why! You're expecting another visit from that ghost!»

Biff could not resist needling his chunky pal. «Just think, Chet. You might even have the honor of nabbing him.»

«Oh swell! I can hardly wait!» Chet rolled his eyes dramatically and the others laughed.

«Or,» Joe remarked, growing serious, «Hanleigh may return for the notebook, if he's the person who lost it.»

When Mr. Jefferson had retired, Frank said, «Let's try to decipher the message!»

The boys sat down with pencils and paper. The Hardys told their friends more about solving substitution ciphers, and they all worked diligently for nearly two hours.

Finally Joe declared, «This code is a tough one. I've tried a number of combinations, but so far no luck.»

Biff stretched and yawned. «My brain won't work any more. Let's get some sleep.»

Joe offered to take the first watch, and Frank the second.

«I'll put in for last!» Chet requested wearily. Everyone laughed, and the plump boy protested. «Well, I've been doing all the hard work in the kitchen!»

Biff grinned. «Okay. I'm third.»

«We'd better be ready for action,» Frank advised. «Don't get undressed.»

But hours later when Biff finished his watch, the place was still quiet. He awakened Chet, who wandered drowsily into the living-room. Yawning, he stared into the steadily burning fire.

«I have to keep alert!» he told himself with determination.

Chet began to pace around the room, trying to shake off his sleepiness. At last, when night was beginning to lift in the east, he sat down in a big soft chair near the fireplace.

The cabin's stillness and the warmth from the crackling logs was lulling. Chet's lids grew heavy, his head dropped, and he dozed.

Suddenly a loud bang jolted him awake. For a moment he was speechless, then a yell of fright burst from his lips. Before his chair hulked a dark figure!

 






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