"Dixon, Franklin W - Hardy Boys 014 - The Hidden Harbor Mystery (original)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dixon Franklin W)

"All set!" said the older Hardy at last, and took his position behind the wheel. He eased in the clutch and the Sleuth purred smoothly out into tile bay, gathering speed until at last, with motor roaring, it raced swiftly toward the Atlantic.
It was a clear, sunny day. The water was calm, and when the three lads reached the open sea an hour later and swung southward along the coast the ocean was as smooth as glass. Chet dug into the supplies until he located a box of crackers he had thoughtfully stowed away so that it could be found with little trouble. He popped one into his mouth, sprawled lazily with his feet up on the side of the boat, stretched himself luxuriously, and said:
"This, my hearties, is the life A life on the bounding main. It can't be beat."
"You weren't doing so much raving about a life on the bounding main the night the Resolute was wrecked," Joe reminded him.
"Why bring that up?" mumbled Chet, his mouth full of crackers.
All day the Sleuth drummed through the calm waters off the coast. Occasionally Joe scanned the horizon with a pair of powerful marine glasses. Finally he caught sight of a dark object against the sky.
"I think we're within sight of it,', he said. "A steamer, low in the water, with no smoke coming from the funnels."
Half an hour later they knew definitely that they had located the derelict. The Resolute was in plain sight, drifting about four miles from shore.
The battered hulk they were now approaching bore scant resemblance to the smart liner of a short time ago. It drifted low in the water, its decks only a few feet above the sea. The forepart of the vessel was a mass of wreckage, charred wood, twisted wire and steel. It seemed a miracle that the ship 'lad been in any kind of condition to be floated.
The boys were thrilled as the swift little motorboat sped closer to the derelict. They had scarcely expected that they would be lucky enough to locate the Resolute on their first day.
"That old hulk looks as if it would sink if a fellow were to step on board," remarked Chet.
"What's the matter?" asked Joe slyly. "Getting nervous?"
"Try me. I'll go anywhere you wish," said the fat boy promptly.
The motorboat drew alongside and Frank cut off the engine. Joe scrambled up onto the sloping deck, seized the rope his brother tossed to him, and looped it around the rail.
"I guess the Resolute will be able to stand your weight, Chet," called out Joe. "Come aboard."
With the Hardy boys assisting, their corpulent chum was pushed and dragged over the rail. He promptly managed to slip on the wet deck, executing a wild war dance that nearly precipitated him overboard again. Chet flung his arms around a stanchion and clung there grimly.
"Careful!" laughed Frank, climbing over the side. "This old boat is pretty shaky as it is."
"Do you mean to say," demanded Chet in a quavering voice, 'that you re going to go down into that stateroom we had?"
"Sure. That's why we're here."
"But what if the boat should start to sink?"
"Then we'd gallop back up on deck as fast as possible. One of us will have to act as look-out. If anything should happen he could then give warning to the others. It wouldn't be so good, though, if we were all down below and the ship should begin to settle."
"I'll be the lookout," volunteered Chet with an air of relief. Now that he was actually on board the derelict and realized that the ship was obviously unsafe he had lost most of his relish for the adventure. "But make it snappy," he begged. "I know this old hulk can't last much longer."
Joe snickered as he made his way down the precariously canting deck until he found the doorway that opened on the stairs leading to some of the staterooms. The floor of the corridor was covered with water and the door had jammed, but Frank and Joe managed to force it open. The corridor was swimming with rubbish, papers, wearing apparel, and life-preservers.
Carefully the two boys splashed their way toward cabin 19. The door hung loosely open, and swayed with every motion of the ship. They looked inside.
The stateroom was a scene of confusion. The walls were charred, and it was evident that the fire had reached this section before the Resolute went under. Everything was in wildest disorder. Clothes, luggage and papers were scattered about everywhere.
Gingerly Frank stepped inside and looked about in search of the grip that had contained the handwriting specimens. Then suddenly he plunged forward. His foot had broken through the burnt flooring. Even as he lurched, Joe reached out and grabbed him, pulling him back to safety.
"Gosh, I guess I'd better be more careful!" Frank exclaimed. "That floor isn't safe."
Joe shuddered as he thought of the consequences, had his brother plunged through. It would have been almost impossible to have saved him.
"I'm not going to give up now that we've come this far-" he began.
At that moment a terrible tremor passed through the crippled vessel, followed by a wild yell.
"Frank! Joe!"
"Chet's voice !" snapped Frank. "There's something wrong !"


CHAPTER IX

SUMMONED TO CROSTON


AGAIN they heard Chet's wild cry. There was a distant splash.
The first thought that flashed through the minds of the two boys was that the ship had sprung another leak and was on the point of sinking. Frantically they scrambled out of the stateroom and into the corridor, their search for the specimens forgotten.
Frank splashed his way toward the stairway and stumbled up the steps, with Joe close behind him.
"Chet! What's the matter?" loudly shouted Frank.
There was no answer. More worried than ever, Frank wrenched open the door at the top of the stairs and leaped out onto the slippery deck.
Joe, hurrying at his heels, failed to notice a projecting piece of timber that jutted out from the wall of the staircase. As he stumbled on one of the slippery steps and flung out an arm to save himself from falling, he hit his head full against the beam.
Almost stunned by the blow, the boy fell back, lost his footing, and pitched backward down the flight to the corridor below. Frank, hearing the crash, wheeled about, and saw his brother lying motionless at the foot of the stairs.
"Chet!" he shouted. "Joe's hurt!"
But the fat boy did not answer. Frank ran down all the steps, to find his brother already trying to sit up. In spite of the tumble and the blow on the head he was conscious, although stunned. Frank helped him to his feet. As he did so Joe swayed, and blinked in a stupefied manner.
"What hit me?" he muttered.
The older boy got the victim up the stairs, and the lad slowly began to regain his senses.