The Mark On The Door Part 1

THE MARK ON THE DOOR.

By FRANKLIN W. DIXON.

CHAPTER I.

THE MISSING WITNESS.

"Better head for sh.o.r.e, Frank! It's blowing up a gale!"

Frank Hardy, at the steering wheel of the Sleuth, Sleuth, glanced up at the sky. Heavy black glanced up at the sky. Heavy black clouds were gathering and a gusty wind was whipping the waters of Barmet Bay into foam.

The trim little motorboat was beginning to pitch and roll in the swell.

"I guess you're right, Joe," he said to his brother. "I'll swing her around."

Frank bore down on the wheel and brought the bow of the craft about so that it was once more heading toward the city of Bayport. One of the conditions on which the boys had been allowed to own the Sleuth Sleuth was that they must not run unnecessary risks. The bay always was was that they must not run unnecessary risks. The bay always was treacherous and subject to sudden squalls.

2 The motorboat was just speeding back down the bay when the storm broke. There was a howling gust of wind, a few slas.h.i.+ng streaks of rain, a flash of lightning, a roll of thunder.

Then the skies seemed to open. The rain fell in a torrential downpour. Bayport was completely obscured from view.

Frank Hardy, a dark, good-looking boy of seventeen, crouched at the wheel and peered out across the tossing waste of waters. Joe threw him an oilskin coat and sou'wester and struggled into a similar outfit himself.

The little motorboat was cutting easily through the waves, the engine pounding away without a miss.

"It won't last long!" Frank shouted.

The storm seemed to sweep the tumultuous surface of the bay like a great gray broom from the skies. The wind moaned and whistled overhead.

In a few minutes the squall was pa.s.sing, roaring on out toward the sea. The rain diminished. The buildings of Bayport began, to appear dimly ahead.

"Another boat nearby!" said Joe, gazing out over the water. He could hear the rapid throb of an engine. The sound came from over to their right. A moment later he caught sight of a dark shape streaking through the storm.

The other craft, which was big and powerful, 3 iras traveling at high speed, its bow rising high out of the water. And it was rus.h.i.+ng traveling at high speed, its bow rising high out of the water. And it was rus.h.i.+ng straight toward the Sleuth! Sleuth!

Joe expected to see the boat alter its course. But it drew swiftly nearer, bearing down on their own craft. Suddenly he realized that a collision would be only a matter of seconds.

' Hey! Look out!" he yelled.

The other boat came roaring swiftly toward them. Frank Hardy juggled the wheel, and swung the Sleuth Sleuth around in a dangerous turn. A huge wave crashed against the side. The around in a dangerous turn. A huge wave crashed against the side. The boys were drenched with water. Joe uttered a cry of alarm when he saw the big powerboat looming right at their stern, within an ace of running them down.

Frank swung the wheel over again in a desperate effort to avoid a crash. He was just in the nick of time. The stern sheered away *when it seemed that the prow of the other boat was about to go through it. Nevertheless, there was a sudden jarring shock as their craft Was clipped by the other.

The boys caught a glimpse of the man at the wheel. He was a swarthy fellow, black-haired, handsome in a way, but unpleasant looking. A moment later the big powerboat was racing away from them in a boiling flurry of foam.

"He didn't even slow up to see what damage 4 was done!" cried Frank angrily. "We might have drowned out here for all he cared."

Joe looked over the side.

"There's a big dent here and the paint is all scratched, but I don't think the boat is leaking," he announced. "Mighty lucky you pulled around when you did."

"Why, that fellow is as bad as a hit-and-run motorist on land. I'm going after him. Did you recognize him, Joe?"

"Never saw him before. He looked like a foreigner to me."

Frank Hardy swung the bow of the motorboat in the direction of Bayport and opened the throttle wide as he took after the other craft. But the Sleuth, Sleuth, reliable as it was, proved to be reliable as it was, proved to be no match for the fugitive. Within a few minutes the powerboat was only a tiny speck on the tossing waters and the Hardy boys were left far behind in its wake.

"I can't figure it out," said Joe, mystified. "There are faster boats than ours on Barmet Bay, but I've never seen one that that fast." fast."

"He must be a stranger. Probably from one of the towns up the coast."

By the time the Hardy boys reached the calmer water of the harbor there was no sign of the man they were chasing.

"I'd like to meet that fellow and tell him what I think of him," Frank said, steering the 5 Sleuth into their own boat-house. They knew that there had been no excuse for the into their own boat-house. They knew that there had been no excuse for the accident and that it might easily have been more serious, perhaps fatal to both of them.

While they were examining the damage, the door opened.

""What ho! "What ho, my cheery mariners!" exclaimed a familiar voice. ""Welcome ash.o.r.e, mates, after your voyage on the vasty deep."

A short, stout boy with a good-natured face came in, munching an apple. He was Chet Morton, a close chum of the Hardy boys. Chet was a fun-loving lad, and the b.u.t.t of many jokes because of his desires for food. He was always hungry and he admitted it.

"I was looking for you fellows," he announced. "Let's go up to the Federal Court. My father is on the jury and there's an exciting case going on."

""What's it about?" they asked, interested.

"The Rio Oil Company fraud. You know-the crowd that sold so much Mexican oil stock around Bayport. If you want to hear the case you'd better hurry."

The Hardy boys agreed to go, and hastily tied their boat in the slip. Chet noted the damaged side, and wanted to know the details. The Hardys told him about the swarthy man who had come so close to wrecking them in the bay.

6 "Why, that must be Sandy MacPherson's big new powerboat!" exclaimed Chet. "I was watching the engine being tested the other day. It just arrived from the factory the first part of the week."

Sandy MacPherson was an elderly Scot who managed a boat livery not far down the sh.o.r.e. The Hardy boys knew it had long been his ambition to own a speedy craft that could show its heels to any other boat on Barmet Bay.

"Let's drop in and ask him before we go up to the court," Frank suggested.

The boys found Sandy MacPherson fondly admiring a big, powerful boat that they recognized at once.

"That's it, all right!" shouted Joe. "Who was out in your boat, Sandy?"

"I dinna ken the mon's name," replied Sandy. "He hired the boat frae me just t'other day.

A furrin lad he was. He hired the boat and he brocht it back and he paid me weel."

"A foreigner!"

"Aye! He couldna speak English vena weel. Could scarcely unnerstan' me."

"And you don't know anything more about the man?"

Sandy shook his head.

"The mon minded his ain business. And I mind mine," he observed .significantly.

f Disappointed, the Hardy boys and Chet left the boat livery and went up the street.

"Forget it," advised Chet. "Let's hurry, or the case will be over before we hear any of it."

When the boys made their way into the Federal Court ten minutes later they found the place crowded. All Bayport was interested in the sensational Rio Oil case. Scores of citizens had invested their money in shares of the stock that had been peddled by smooth and convincing salesmen. The arrest of the promoters, and the discovery that the wells-*

which were said to be in Mexico-had never produced a drop of oil and never would, were developments that had been emblazoned in newspaper headlines for days.

The boys slipped into seats just in time to hear the District Attorney questioning one of the Bio Company's stock salesmen. He was a Buave, s.h.i.+fty-eyed fellow who did not seem to be the least bit at ease in the witness box.

"You sold three thousand shares of this stock to Mrs. Margaret Chadwick?" asked the District Attorney sharply.

"Yes, sir."

"She is a widow?"

"So I believe."

"It was all the money she hadf"

"I-I think so."

8 "And you knew the stock was worthless!"

"I didn't know anything about it. I was just obeying orders."

"And your orders were-----?"

"To sell as much stock as I could."

At this moment an attendant pushed his way through the crowd and handed the District Attorney a note.

"If the court will excuse me," the latter said to the Judge, "I should like to read this communication."

Frowning, he glanced at the note. Then he appeared much upset.

"Your Honor," he said abruptly, "I am sorry, but I must ask for a postponement of this case."

"Upon what grounds?" asked the Judge.

"I have just received word that my princ.i.p.al witness, Mr. Tremmer, has mysteriously disappeared. Inasmuch as he was the bookkeeper of the Rio Oil Company, he is in possession of a great deal of evidence highly important to my case. It is impossible for me to proceed without him."

The Judge considered briefly.

"Very well," he said. "I shall grant you a stay of twenty-four hours. Court stands adjourned."

The District Attorney's announcement that his star witness had disappeared created a Bation in the courtroom. A buzz of voices arose when the Judge left the bench.

"Dirty work in this case," said Chet. "I'll bet the Rio crowd had something to do with that disappearance. The State can't very well get a conviction without Tremmer's evidence."

But Frank was not listening. Suddenly he grabbed his brother's arm.

"Look, Joe!" he exclaimed. "Isn't that man over there the one who damaged our boat a while ago?"

He was gazing in the direction of a crowd of men near the doorway. Among them was a tall, swarthy, black-haired stranger who seemed to be in a hurry to get out of the courtroom.

Joe took one look and exclaimed: '' That's the fellow! Come on, Frank! Let's get him before we lose him in the crowd outside."

The Hardy boys scrambled into the aisle, closely followed by Chet. They were held back by the dense crowd, however, and by the time they reached the doorway they had lost sight of their quarry. Vainly they searched the corridor outside the courtroom.

"I'll bet he saw us first!" said Joe bitterly.

"We're going to find that fellow!" Frank declared. "We're going to find him and make him pay for the damage to our boat."

CHAPTER II.

THE STRANGE MARK.

"I'M sure he saw us and got out of the courtroom as quickly as he could because he was afraid to face us," insisted Frank Hardy.

"Brave words, my hearty!" Chet said. "But how are you going to find him? Why not put an ad in the newspaper? 'Will the foreign gentleman who busted our boat on Thursday afternoon please call at our house and pay for same.' Maybe that will fetch him soon enough."

The boys asked some of the courtroom attendants and the doorman if they remembered the swarthy stranger, but their inquiries met with no success. When Frank and Joe Hardy tackled a problem they did not give up easily and insisted that they would locate the maa sooner or later. Chet was highly amused.

" There are several thousand people in Bayport," he laughed, "and you know the fellow There are several thousand people in Bayport," he laughed, "and you know the fellow only by sight. You've never heard his name or where he lives or anything."

"Just the same, we'll find him I"

The trio went on down the chief business street of Bayport, discussing the mysterious stranger and the odd turn of events that had caused the postponement of the Eio Oil trial.

"My father said that this bookkeeper, Trem-mer, was going to give evidence for the State, and that the District Attorney was relying on him to prove that the oil promoters were a pack of crooks," said Chet. "It seems funny that he should disappear just at this time."

"It's more than funny. It's suspicious," Joe remarked. "Perhaps they gave him some money and he left the country."