Infinity Clue Part 7

Following at a distance, they trailed the pickup back to an area where the road widened. The truck parked on the shoulder. A man got out and climbed down a small trench cut diagonally in the steep bluff.

Waiting until he was out of sight, the brothers drove up to the truck and peered toward the water. On the beach at the foot of the bluff were the geologists! The equipment they used for boring core samples was in operation. It was an elaborate rig and most of the men were working on it. A makes.h.i.+ft dock had been built nearby.

"Werner must be among them," Joe said excitedly as he started down the crude path.

"Wait a minute," said Frank, grabbing his brother's arm. "If we barge in like that, we might blow our chances of finding out what they're up to."

"You're right," Joe agreed, and climbed back to the road. "Those men may not be as harmless as they seem."

Staying out of sight, the young detectives mounted their motorcycles and headed down the yellow clay road. They found a small fis.h.i.+ng village further along the sh.o.r.eline, a couple of miles from where the cliffs began.

"Can we rent a skiff with an outboard somewhere in town?" Frank asked a group of men who sat in rocking chairs on the front porch of the village's general store.

"You boys want to go fis.h.i.+ng?" one of the men asked, bringing his rocker to a stop.

"In a way, we do," Frank responded.

The man stood up from his rocker. "Come on along then. I've got something you can use. It's ten dollars a day, not including the cost of gas."

The brothers agreed to the fisherman's terms.

Joe went to inspect the skiff to be sure the engine worked, and to check for leaks. Frank, meanwhile, called Chet and Fritz from the general store and asked them to meet the Hardys in the village as soon as possible. He also suggested that they bring along the disguises they had used the previous evening, and get two more for Frank and Joe. They would also need a tent, sleeping bags, and camping supplies.

An hour later, Fritz's sports car pulled up in front of the general store.

"We have everything you guys asked for," Chet announced. "What's the plan?"

Frank told him that, disguised as a group of boys out on a fis.h.i.+ng trip, they would "accidentally stumble"

on Werner's team. They could set up camp on the beach near the geologists, pretending to be just a bunch of curious youngsters.

"So the idea is to play dumb," Joe put in. "That should be easy for some of us."

Still embarra.s.sed over the episode in the dark museum, Chet ignored Joe's kidding. "Just wait. You'll be glad I came along."

Donning sungla.s.ses, hats, and fis.h.i.+ng poles, the foursome manned the skiff and headed down the sh.o.r.eline. As they rounded a turn under the bluffs, Joe slowed the boat. The others threw out lines, as if trolling for fish. The geologists looked up from their work when they saw the young people approach, and Joe turned their boat toward the beach.

"Howdy!" Frank called out with a big smile. "What's going on?"

The men returned the greeting with rude stares, then resumed their work. Frank, Joe, and Chet got out of the skiff and walked up the beach, joining the workers around the equipment.

"Are you drilling for oil or something?" Joe asked with a hokey accent. "Gee whiz, that sure is a weird contraption you've got there."

A slightly balding man of medium build stepped from the machinery. He had dark eyes and a neatly cropped beard. "What do you want?" he asked with a thick German accent.

"Oh, we're just fis.h.i.+ng," Frank answered. "Weren't getting any bites, though, so we thought we'd say hi and find out what's going on."

"We're taking core samples," the bearded man replied tersely.

"Then you're scientists?" Frank asked.

"Yes, and we're very busy. So if you will excuse us."

"Hey, this stuff is neat," Chet said as he wandered around the drilling equipment. "What are these things for?" He pointed to a couple of long cylinders lying on the beach.

"Boring rods," the scientist answered. "Don't touch anything."

"Why are you taking core samples around here?" Frank pursued the questioning.

A large, burly man came over to him. "Get out of here. You are bothering us,"-he ordered.

"Sorry," Frank said, backing off. "We were just curious. We'd be happy to help with the drilling if you are behind schedule or something."

"We don't want your help," the burly man replied gruffly. "We want you to get out of here."

The four boys, seeing that they would be physically evicted from the site unless they left on their own, prepared to go back to the skiff.

"Nice to meet you," Frank said with a smile and extended his hand to the bearded scientist. "By the way, I'm John Sterret. I didn't catch your name."

The man, happy to be rid of the nosy boys, quickly shook hands, "I'm Dr. Werner. Sorry we're too busy to chat."

The sleuths returned to their boat, where Fritz had already started up the motor in case trouble erupted.

"We should've let him know who we were and why we're here," Joe said to his brother.

"Maybe later," Frank decided. "Right now we're not sure if he's friend or foe. The odds would be against us if Frank and Joe Hardy were names that spelled 'enemy' for Werner."

"If you saw what I saw, you'd be glad you gave him that phony name," Chet spoke up. "That man is no friend. One of those cylinders had the infinity sign drawn on it!"

CHAPTER XI.

Sunset Oystermen Joe shot an astonished look at his friends, then at the team of geologists on the beach. "You mean, Werner's in cahoots with the Rabbit?"

"Cool it," Frank urged his brother. "Don't pay any more attention to them. Just head this thing down the sh.o.r.e."

The boys threw out fis.h.i.+ng lines as Joe motored the skiff around a bend in the high bluffs. Once they were out of sight, they drew in the lines and took off their disguises.

"This seems like a good spot to set up camp," Frank said, indicating an area where the bluffs had eroded enough to provide a naturally protected section of the beach.

The foursome pitched Fritz's tent at the foot of the yellow clay cliff. Frank and Joe collected driftwood, as Chet and Fritz prepared to make supper. By the time the sun began to set over the wide, still waters of the lower Potomac, the boys had a pot of beef stew bubbling over a crackling fire.

"I feel like a gypsy camping on the Rhine River," Fritz remarked wistfully, remembering the natural beauty of his own part of the world. "Now all we need is a violin and a tambourine."

"I feel like an early American explorer," Chet said, and gazed over the water. The far sh.o.r.e was lined with a dense forest that broke off at the point where the Potomac fed into the bay. "Only now we don't have to worry about hostile Indians or wild animals. We can just enjoy the sunset over the river."

Joe, relaxing against a log, chuckled at his chunky friend's observation. "No, we don't have to worry about wild animals, just bomb-throwing terrorists. If given a choice, I'd go for the animals."

The four youths sat in quiet thought as the sun turned a deep red hue and sank into the horizon. A boat loaded with oysters came into sight. Moving slowly with its heavy cargo piled high in the middle, it made an odd silhouette against the sunset. Two men were aboard and, noticing the camp fire on the beach, watched the four boys as they went by.

"They must be from the fis.h.i.+ng village," Joe said. "Looks like they made a good harvest today." He stood up and waved at the oystermen, who returned the wave before disappearing around the bend.

"I wish we had some of those fresh oysters to make a stew," Chet put in.

Joe let out a groan. "How can you think about food right now? I'm stuffed."

"Wait a minute," Frank said. "This isn't oyster season. Those couldn't have been fresh oysters."

"Are you suggesting that the boat was full of rotten oysters?" Chet said.

"Look," Frank told him. "Oysters are not in season during the summer. They're only harvested in the months that have an Y in their spelling-September through April. I don't know what those guys are up to, but they're sure not oystermen!"

Suddenly, Frank and Joe had the same thought. The boat might not have been on its way to the fis.h.i.+ng village at all!

"Let's check on the geologists," Frank said to his younger brother.

Both boys got to their feet and jogged down the beach in the direction of the drilling site. It was dark by the time they arrived. The oyster boat was nosed up on the beach and several men were in the process of unloading something.

Hoping the men were too busy to notice them, the two sleuths crept closer to the drilling site to get a better look. Concealed under the mound of oysters were several core cylinders, which the men unloaded and carefully carried up on the beach.

Frank nudged his brother's arm and pointed to the pickup truck parked on the bluff road. As the geologists finished their business, the boys scaled the steep path up the bluff. They climbed in the back of the truck, covered themselves with the canvas tarp, and waited.

In a few minutes, they could hear two men approaching. One of them was clearly Dr. Werner. The other sounded like the one who had threatened the boys earlier. In listening to the two talk, Frank and Joe learned that his name was Roget. Although he spoke German, he clearly had a French accent.

The two men climbed into the cab of the pickup. A second later, the engine started up and they were on their way down the bluff road.

"This guy drives like a maniac!" Joe exclaimed in a whisper as the truck sped around the sharp bends in the road, tossing its hidden occupants back and forth under the canvas tarp. "Next time I hitch a ride, it'll be with someone who I know can drive."

After some adjustment of their bodies, they found that they could brace themselves between the sides of the truck without getting thrown around too much. Once settled, they discussed their next move.

"The geologists, or whatever they are, were using those oyster sh.e.l.ls to cover their cargo of core cylinders," Frank observed. "They wanted it to appear as though they were going out empty in the morning, then returning in the evening laden with a harvest of oysters."

"But they were really going out full at night and coming back empty in the morning," Joe finished Frank's deduction.

"Exactly. Also, there were nine geologists at the Smithsonian for Werner's meeting. Only five were at the drilling site. If the two men in the oyster boat were part of the team, that leaves two remaining men unaccounted for. They might be where the cylinders were coming from."

"Do you think the Rabbit is one of the two missing guys?" Joe asked nervously.

"No. He was busy ha.s.sling us while the meeting was being held. But Chet saw the cylinder with the infinity sign on it, so that proves he's a.s.sociated with this outfit. In any case, I have the impression that Dr.

Werner isn't the head honcho in this operation. We ought to stay under cover for the time being until we can determine a little more clearly just what's going on."

The young detectives felt the pickup truck turn off the road and go up a gravel drive. Soon it came to a stop. They waited for the men to leave, then peeked out from under the tarp. They found themselves outside a small bungalow set back in the woods at the top of the yellow clay cliffs. The two cars that they had seen leaving the Smithsonian were also parked in front of the house.

"This must be where the gang's staying," Joe said excitedly.

Frank was puzzled. "If those are the cars that carried the geologists, why aren't they down at the drilling site? It doesn't make sense. How do the men get back here to sleep without their cars?"

"Perhaps they camp at the drilling site," Joe said.

The older boy shook his head. "I didn't see any tents or camping gear there."

"Well, maybe they travel on the oyster boat," Joe suggested. "It seems to me we should follow that boat and see where it comes from."

Frank nodded. "That might be the answer. But let's try a little old-fas.h.i.+oned eavesdropping first."

The sleuths threw off the tarp and hopped from the pickup truck. The sky was overcast, making it darker than it had been on the previous evening. This provided good cover for the boys to sneak up on the house without being noticed.

Lights were on in the bungalow. Dr. Werner and Roget could be seen through the window engaged in conversation. The Hardys stationed themselves outside and listened. The m.u.f.fled voices were barely audible. Roget did most of the talking, appearing loud and argumentative.

Frank and Joe crept around the bungalow, hoping to find an open window. But as they did, Werner stood up and went to the door. A ferocious-looking dog jumped to its feet. It was a Doberman pinscher that had been lying in a corner. Werner opened the door, letting the animal out.

The Doberman sensed Frank and Joe almost immediately and emitted a low growl.

"Let's get out of here," Joe cried under his breath.

As soon as the boys dashed away from the house, the vicious dog began barking. It lurched forward in pursuit, and before they knew it, the amateur detectives found themselves cornered at the top of the cliff.

The Doberman's bark turned into a bare-teethed snarl when it found its prey trapped. The dog approached slowly and deliberately. Neither boy dared move.

"When I say jump, jump," Frank said, just barely moving his lips. The beach lay far below, but the incline of the bluff face would help break their fall. If they were lucky, they would get away with only minor injuries!

CHAPTER XII.

A Mysterious Signal The beast drew "closer, exposing canine fangs, until it was no more than a few feet from the frightened youths.

Suddenly, the Doberman's ears perked up. It seemed to linger in a moment of indecision, first looking back at the bungalow, then turning toward Frank and Joe with a snarl. Finally, the animal reluctantly retreated from the cliff and returned to the bungalow.

"What happened?" Joe gasped, amazed by the abrupt s.h.i.+ft in their fortune.

"Werner probably called the dog back inside," Frank answered. "And not a second too soon."

"I didn't hear anything," Joe said.

"Remember the werewolf case?" the older Hardy asked, referring to Night of the Werewolf, a recent mystery the brothers had solved by tracking down the secret behind a killer beast that glowed in the dark.

"Yes, the crook in that case was using a dog whistle," Joe said, slapping his forehead for not having thought of it himself. "Werner must have used one of those things too!"