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

"Frank has escaped from tighter spots than this," he said. "He has a life-belt. Even if we were to find him, we would be powerless. All we can do now is try to reach shore, and that's going to be hard enough."
Nevertheless, Joe's heart was heavy as he swam on. He realized that Chet's advice was sensible, but that did not put hope into him. The two swimmers saw no other passengers, and were unable to make out the few lifeboats that had been launched.
It seemed hours before they finally came within sight of land. They could glimpse it vaguely as a dim dark mass against the distant sky, and could hear the roar of breakers against the rocks. Both boys were chilled to the bone by this time, and were hardly able to swim another stroke.
Suddenly they found themselves in the grip of a current, so that instead of being borne toward the shore they were carried down the coast. There was no use trying to fight against the strong tide, which fortunately did not project them away from land. This was what probably saved their lives, for otherwise they might have been battered to death in the breakers. As it was, the current carried them around a great dark cape that loomed grim and ugly before them in the night, but brought them eventually abreast a sloping, sandy beach.
"Here's our chance to make a landing, Chet!" urged Joe, exerting all his strength to fight clear of the heavy sea. Slowly the boys felt the drag of the water relax, struggled free, and could feel the lighter waves sweeping them toward shore and shallow water. Their feet touched bottom, and they struggled up onto the land, where they stumbled and fell, completely exhausted. The two boys lay there for a long time until gradually their strength returned.
"We pretty nearly went to Davey Jones's locker that time," muttered Chet weakly. "Boy, I'm all in!"
"Closest call I ever had," returned Joe. He sat up and gazed out into the storm-tossed darkness. "Chet, do you think there's a chance that Frank might have escaped?"
"Well, we escaped, didn't we? If he hadn't stayed behind to look after that old man he'd have been with us now."
When Joe looked into the gloom and saw the huge waves rolling up onto the beach and heard the boom and thunder of the surf, his heart sank. It seemed impossible that anyone could live in such a sea. The fact that he and Chet had done so did not lessen his anxiety about Frank.
It began to rain. First it was merely a gentle downpour. Then it increased until soon it was a drenching, torrential storm. A vivid flash of lightning revealed the ocean as clearly as if it were daylight. Then came an ear-splitting crash of thunder.
"Come on, Joe. Let's try to find shelter."
"Where?"
"I saw a house. In that lightning flash. It's down the beach a little way," shouted Chet excitedly. "Come on!"
Joe got up and wearily followed his companion through the rain. Chet's sharp eyes had caught sight of a small shack about a hundred yards distant. Another flash of lightning revealed it again and the boys broke into a stumbling run. They reached the building, found the door open, and rushed inside. The rain drummed heavily on the roof.
Joe groped in his pockets for the waterproof match-box he invariably carried with him, and was glad he had it now. While in Bayport the Hardy boys had made several excursions out into Barmet Bay and down the coast in their fast motorboat, the Sleuth, and with an eye to the probability of accident or wreck always carried matches in water-tight containers. Joe extracted one of them now and struck it against the wall.
They found themselves in a small hut, evidently built for the use of a fisherman. It was empty save for a small stove, beneath which lay a pile of firewood.
"We won't freeze, anyway," said Chet, when he saw the stove and the wood. "This was made to order, Joe."
In a few minutes the boys had a fire going, and stripped off their soggy clothing to dry. They were so cold by this time that their teeth were chattering, but it was not long before the cheerful fire restored warmth to their bodies. Then, completely exhausted by the grueling ordeal which they had undergone, they sprawled on the floor and fell fast asleep, the roar of wind, rain and sea pounding in their ears.
When they awakened it was broad daylight and a warm shaft of sunshine was streaming in the solitary window of the little hut. Joe flung open the door. The weather had cleared and the wind had died down. The ocean lay before them in the clear sunlight, so blue and calm that it seemed as if their terrifying ad-venture of the previous night had been but a dream.
The boys dressed themselves and went outside. A short distance up the beach they saw a road that led inland through the rocks and scrub timber.
"Am I stiff and sore this morning!" groaned Chet. "What's more," he added plaintively, "it doesn't look as if we stand much chance of finding any breakfast around here. I'm so hungry I could eat a rubber boot."
"We'll have to forget about food for a while, I'm afraid," said Joe. "That road must lead somewhere. Let's find out where."
"Maybe you can forget about breakfast," said Chet, "but I can't. I hope the nearest town isn't more than fifty miles away."
He made a few half-hearted attempts to joke about their plight but finally gave up, as they struck down the road. In the back of their minds was the fear that Frank Hardy had perished.
"I still think he's safe," insisted Joe trying to keep up his courage. "My brother's a better swimmer than either of us. If we could make it, then he could, too."
"I wish we had never met that old Blackstone," said Chet in an effort to change the subject. "That was a queer thing, Joe. I'm sure Ruel Rand was the man who was in our stateroom. And it was he who knocked the old fellow over the head. I'm positive of that, for I saw him kneeling beside Mr. Blackstone just after the ship crashed."
"Ruel Rand, eh!" exclaimed Joe in surprise, for in the excitement of the shipwreck the boys had not had time to discuss the events that had taken place just before the catastrophe.
"He practically admitted that he hit Mr. Blackstone. At first I thought the old man might have been thrown off his feet when the ship struck and in that way bumped his head on the wall. There was something queer about that Rand fellow."
Their speculations were soon forgotten in what next met their glance. The road led over a little hill, and there, right before their eyes, they saw a clearing and a cabin, in front of which stood a battered old automobile. The boys uttered a whoop of joy, and raced down the road toward the building.
A dog started to bark, as it rushed out to meet them. A moment later the door of the shack opened and a lanky, black-haired man appeared, gazing at them curiously.
"How far away is the nearest town!" blurted out Chet.
"How are the chances of renting your car!" demanded Joe.
The owner scratched his head.
"Where do you fellows come from!" he asked. "You don't live hereabouts."
They told him briefly of the shipwreck and explained their plight. The settler was deeply interested, and quickly volunteered to drive them to the nearest village where they might perhaps hear some news about other survivors.
"Good!" exclaimed Joe, scrambling into the man's car with Chet close at his heels. "How far away is the town?"
'Bout three miles. It won't take long if my tires hold out."
Luckily the tires did hold out and it was not long before the car rattled into a tiny hamlet that consisted of half a dozen weather-beaten houses. No one in the place had heard anything of the wreck. As was to be expected, the arrival of the boys created a local sensation. Joe lost no time getting in touch with the nearest city by telephone, and called the office of the leading newspaper.
"Most of the survivors of the Resolute disaster have been brought here," he was told. "We're hard at work trying to make up a list of them now but it isn't an easy matter to check up. Some of them are in the hospital, while others have gone to their homes."
"Is the name of Frank Hardy on your list!" inquired Joe anxiously.
"Just a moment, please."
Joe waited, trembling with suspense. Then came the answer:
"I'm sorry, but we have no such name. Yet that doesn't necessarily mean that the person you are asking for didn't escape. Our list isn't at all complete."
"Thanks," said Joe dully, and hung up the receiver. His discouraged expression told Chet the bad news more plainly than words could.
"I guess we'd better go into the city," he said. "There's just a chance that Frank may be in one of the hospitals."
"I'll drive you in, lads," offered the sympathetic settler. "It ain't far. Only seven miles. My tires ought to hold out that long."
The boys thanked him gratefully, and started out. Joe, however, had little confidence in the outcome of their search. Whenever he thought of the raging sea through which they had fought their way to shore the previous night, he knew that the chance of finding Frank alive was indeed scant.


CHAPTER IV