CHAPTER VIII

A Treasure Hunt

"deep down, I agree with you, Joe," Frank put in. "The information we have about Grafton so far is that he's honest-even if he did become soured on things."

"That's right," Joe said. "When we crack this mystery and find him, I believe he'll turn out to be okayI"

"There's our giant again," Frank announced. "Hang on! I'm going in low to scout him a little."

Frank throttled down to fly as slowly as possible while they examined the effigy. What, if anything, could it prove about buried treasure, counterfeiters, and missing men?

"I have a hunch those outstretched arms may mean something," Frank said thoughtfully.

"Why?" Chet asked.

"Because we found our treasure in a straight line with the left arm of that big fellow down

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70 Mystery of the Desert Giant

there, unless my sense of direction has gone haywire."

Chet looked at him. "You mean the stone we found might have been a marker? But for what?"

"Wish I knew the answer," Frank said.

Joe suggested they pitch camp there for the night to see if anything happened. "Grafton and Wetherby may be in hiding around here, and show up after dark."

"I think I have the answer!" Chet broke in. "Maybe there was a stowaway in their plane. He forced Grafton and Wetherby to fly out here to meet some other member of the gang!"

Frank nodded, then said, "Not much more for us to see up here. I'm going in for a landing."

The plane rolled to a stop near the knoll where the effigy was, and the boys climbed out into the dazzling sunshine.

"Whew! Hot work ahead," Chet observed.

Meanwhile, Frank was handing supplies and tools out to his brother. "We'll take the spade and the small mattock. I've put some food and water in this one rucksack."

"I'll take charge of that," Chet volunteered. "You two carry the tools."

The young sleuths locked the plane and climbed the knoll. Then they began to hike along the left arm of the giant effigy. With their wide-brimmed hats and their digging implements they looked like a party of old-time prospectors.

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"Just think if we discovered gold, wouldn't that be keen?" Chet remarked.

"There are some lost mines on the Arizona side-some that date back to the days of the early Spaniards," Frank informed him.

"How does a gold mine get lost?" Chet was puzzled. "I wouldn't lose a gold mine, if I had one!"

Joe laughed. "In the first place, the old-timers used to keep the location of their mines secret, for protection. Then sometimes mines are buried by earthquakes, or more slowly by erosion."

Suddenly Joe stopped short. "Something just ahead. Give me your spade, Frankl"

He had noticed a little sunken place roughly rectangular in shape. Unlike the hard-baked ground of the desert, this dirt seemed loose, as though it had been turned over not long before.

"Somebody's been digging!"

Frank and Chet hurried to his side. "It looks as if a hole had been dug here, and then filled in again," Joe explained, starting to dig.

Frank began tossing dirt aside with a shovel, while Chet got busy with the mattock.

"No question about it," Frank remarked as they worked. "Look at this loose soil and the size of the hole. I'd say at least two people had been on the job."

"They were wasting their time," said Chet, ten minutes later. He was wringing wet. "We

72 Mystery of the Desert Giant

haven't seen anything valuable hidden here."

The Hardys had to agree. There seemed to be nothing worth digging for.

"What do you think?" Joe asked. "Could they have cleared the hole of all valuable rocks?"

"I don't think so," his brother returned. "There would be a few traces left. We haven't seen a single fragment of the kind of rock that contains semiprecious stones."

"What were they digging for, then?" Chet wanted to know. "You mentioned buried treasure."

"I still think one might have been hidden by Indians or even Spanish explorers. The desert giant was the direction marker to show the location."

"Well, whatever it was, do you suppose Graf-ton and Wetherby were the ones looking for it?" Chet asked.

"Could be," Joe returned. "They were here recently enough." Carefully, he examined the ground.

"Not a footprint, or even a trace of one," he reported, discouraged. "A good solid heel print would have given us something to work with."

"No." Frank nodded. "Whoever it was knew what he was doing. He brushed away the prints in Indian style, with one of these sagebrush bushes."

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Chet sat down to rest. Finally Frank gave up and flopped to the desert. "Pretty hot seat!"

"Better than nothing," said Chet. "I'm pooped I"

Joe kept on for a few minutes. By this time nearly all the soft earth had been turned over. Joe was about to give up when his shovel suddenly swept a piece of cloth into the air.

"What's that?" Frank asked eagerly, jumping to his feet.

Joe picked up the dirt-covered cloth and shook it. "A man's brown handkerchief," he said.

Chet, interested now, dragged himself to Joe's side. "You think one of the diggers dropped it?"

"I'm sure of it."

"And," Frank added, "his name begins with the letter P."

Frank pointed out the initial P, of a slightly lighter color, embroidered in one corner of the handkerchief.

"Say, this is great!" Chet cried out enthusiastically. But in a moment his face fell. "This means neither Grafton nor Wetherby dropped it."

"Correct," said Frank. "But it could mean that they have some pal whose name starts with P."

"In any case," Joe added, "we'll take it along as a souvenir or as evidence."

"Let's give up this desert search until it gets cooler," Chet pleaded. "Talk about hot enough

74 Mystery of the Desert Giant

to fry an egg. Lil ole Chet will be boiled Morton pretty soon!"

The Hardys laughed. Then Frank suggested they fly to the edge of the desert where the mountains began and rest in the cool shade.

"It's just possible there are more mineral rocks in the mountains," he suggested.

"Good idea," said Joe, and Chet nodded.

The boys went back to the plane and cooled the cabin with its air conditioner before taking off. A little while later Frank set the craft down and the three sleuths, carrying cans of food, tomato juice, and the digging tools, sought the shade of the mountainside.

"This is something like it!" Chet said with a sigh of relief as he pulled out his penknife can-opener attachment.

After the meal, Chet dozed, while Frank and Joe discussed the mystery. Presently Frank, looking up the slope, said, "I see a cave opening up there. Let's have a look at it."

The cave mouth yawned about forty feet above them. Scrambling up the slope, the Hardys stood staring at the entrance.

Frank pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and said, "Think I'll go in."

As he spoke, a menacing snarl pierced the silence of the mountain. Crouched above the cave in readiness to spring down on the Hardys was a huge wildcat!