CHAPTER XVIII

"Mrs. Harrison" Again

during the morning, a coast patrol aircraft spotted the fishing launch. Half an hour later a rescue boat pulled up alongside. The men exclaimed over the unusual size of the giant tuna. Captain Harkness indignantly refused offers of a tow, but admitted he could use some gasoline. He told the officer in charge about the phantom freighter whose name .might be Falcon, but his story was received with smiles of incredulity.

"Mr. Hardy asked us to search for you," the officer said, "but we didn't bargain on hunting ghost ships. I'll signal our patrol plane, though, to make a sweep of the area. If there's any derelict or a freighter named Falcon within three hundred miles the plane will spot it and report back by radio. And by the way," he added, turning to Captain Harkness, "maybe if you installed a transmitter on your boat,

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"Mrs. Harrison" Again 147

you wouldn't have to drift all night when you run out of gas."

With this parting shot, he left them. The captain grumbled all the way home about newfangled notions and smart alecks in uniform.

"Got along without a transmitter all my life," he fumed.

Mr. and Mrs. Hardy met the group at the dock, accompanied by Chet Morton's parents and Biff Hooper's father. All were vastly relieved to see the adventurers safe. Chet was so ravenous with hunger that he almost forgot to claim credit for helping to capture the tuna. As for McClintock, he said he never wanted to go fishing again.

"Too hard on my system," he groaned. "I'm going back to the hotel, and have my breakfast and go to bed for a week."

When the boys arrived home they were alternately praised and scolded by Aunt Gertrude. "I was pretty sure you'd turn up," she said, "but I admit I was worried. I almost canceled my trip because of it." She looked at the clock. "There's still time to catch the train, though."

"Leaving us, Aunty?" asked Frank in amazement. "You've just come."

"I'm only going for a couple of days," returned Aunt Gertrude evasively. "Maybe not that long."

The boys looked inquiringly at their mother.

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Mrs. Hardy shrugged. When Aunt Gertrude decided to be secretive about her affairs she could be very .secretive indeed.

"Going far, Aunty?" hinted Joe.

"Not very far," Aunt Gertrude snapped the lock of her traveling case. "Who's going to drive me to the station?"

Both nephews accompanied her.

"Have a nice visit, Aunty," said Frank, as he helped her out of the car at the station.

"Who said I was going on a visit? If you must know, this is a business trip."

"Oh!" exclaimed Frank innocently. "A business trip! That's different. Naturally, if you're going to Wayside I thought you'd visit Aunt Maude."

"Wayside? Who said anything about Wayside? Why, Bridgewater isn't even in the same direction. My goodness, I wish you'd get things straight. Well, good-bye and take care of yourselves. I may be back tonight and I may be away for a day or so."

Aunt Gertrude boarded the train.

"So she's going to Bridgewater," murmured Joe. "And it's a business trip. Now, I'm not naturally inquisitive," he grinned, "but I wonder what's going on."

Did this mysterious trip have some connection with Aunt Gertrude's recent added interest in the mail and the telephone? The boys were full of speculations as they drove back to the house.

"Mrs. Harrison" Again 149

That afternoon they heard the city of Bridgewater mentioned again, but under different circumstances. The manager of the Bayport Express Company telephoned shortly after lunch, saying:

"I've just heard something that may interest you Hardys. A letter came from my brother-in-law who works in the express office in Bridgewater. You remember that carton that was addressed to your aunt, and was delivered to the Phillips house? Well, the same kind of thing occurred in Bridgewater a few days ago. The express company delivered a carton to a certain address. They later discovered that the owner of the house was out of town and that the ·woman who had signed for it had cleared out. Sounds as if the same racket's being worked in Bridgewater."

"Sure does," said Frank, who had answered the call.

"The express company is investigating, of course, but I thought you'd want to hear about it. I'll let you know if anything further turns up."

The news about the Bridgewater incident, close on the heels of Aunt Gertrude's trip there, struck the boys as being more than a coincidence. Was she mixed up in another carton episode?

"I think we'd better drive down to Bridgewater and do a little investigating ourselves," decided Joe.

"Good idea," his brother agreed.

Bridgewater was a pleasant city, somewhat smaller

150 The Phantom Freighter

than Bayport. When the boys arrived there, they called immediately at the express office. After introducing themselves the manager told them the details about three strangely claimed shipments.

"I don't think you'll learn much from the people at those addresses," he said. "The Bridgewater police have checked every angle."

Frank smiled. "Maybe not, but may we have the addresses?"

"Glad to let you have them."

As the brothers left the express office, Frank came to a sudden stop.

"Look who's over there!" he said.

In front of Bridgewater's leading hotel, directly across the street, two women were in earnest conversation.

"Aunt Gertrude!" exclaimed Joe.

"But who's the woman with her?" puzzled Frank.

Joe looked again. Then he gasped. "Why, that's 'Mrs. Harrison'!"

Aunt Gertrude's companion was none other than the woman who had signed for an express parcel at the Harrison residence in Bayport while the real Mrs. Harrison was out of town.

Why had their relative come to Bridgewater to meet this impostor? As the boys gaped, confused and puzzled, they saw their aunt and the other woman enter the doorway of the hotel restaurant.

"Mrs. Harrison" Again 151

"We'll have to do a little plain and fancy shadowing if we want to learn what this is all about," said Joe. "Maybe we should call the police. Remember, the Bayport police are looking for that woman."

"Let's wait until she leaves Aunt Gertrude," advised Frank. "If we call the police now, it would put Aunt Gertrude in an awkward spot, particularly since we don't know what it's all about."

"I guess you're right. I wonder what is behind it?" said Joe. "I'll bet that woman's blackmailing Aunt Gertrude," he guessed. "Maybe she has some of Aunty's private letters from the carton and is demanding money for them."

"If Aunty falls for it, she's got a mighty good reason," declared Frank. "I guess that's what she's been so jittery about lately. 'Mrs. Harrison' must have written or phoned her."

The boys hurried into the hotel and made their way toward the restaurant. From the lobby they could see Aunt Gertrude and "Mrs. Harrison" seated at a table near the street door. Frank and Joe slipped in and sat down near a potted palm which shielded them from view. Seeing a waitress bring salads to the others, they ordered sandwiches and milk.

Presently they saw their aunt open her handbag. She surreptitiously took out a purse and handed it across the table. The woman put it into her pocket-

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book and brought out a packet of letters which she gave to Miss Hardy.

"Just as I said. Blackmail!" said Joe excitedly.

"I can't understand it," Frank shook his head.

Aunt Gertrude got up and walked out of the restaurant to the street. The other woman finished her coffee and prepared to leave.

"Get the house detective," Joe told his brother. "I'll stall her along in the meantime."

While Frank hurried into the lobby Joe got up and walked across to the woman's table.

"Well, if it isn't Mrs. Harrison!" he exclaimed, smiling.

The woman looked up at him coldly. "You've made a mistake," she said. "My name isn't Harrison."

"Don't you remember me? I called at your house in Bayport."

The woman's eyes were wary. Hastily she got up.

"I was never in Bayport in my life," she snapped.

"Better sit down and talk it over, Mrs. Harrison, or I'll call the police," suggested Joe.

The threat worked. The woman turned pale. She sat down again.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

"I want some information from you. Where do your friends keep the stuff they steal?"

"Mrs. Harrison" Again 153

The woman did not answer. Instead, she uttered a low moan, then slumped forward with her head on the table.

"Why, she's fainted!" gasped a waitress, running forward.

Joe got up to help. Then he realized this was just a ruse to get him out of the way. Instantly he decided it was a ruse that might be put to good account. He ran out of the restaurant. In the lobby he met Frank, hurrying across from the desk with a burly, cigar-chewing individual who looked every inch a hotel detective.

"Our friend has pretended to faint," said Joe quickly. "Maybe we'd better let her think she's getting away with it."

"Not around this hotel she won't get away with it," grunted the detective.

"Maybe the publicity wouldn't be good for the hotel," Joe suggested smoothly. "If you'll see that she's helped out to a taxi, we'll take over."

The detective nodded. He went into the restaurant. In the meantime Frank and Joe went out the front entrance and jumped into their car. In a few minutes the false Mrs. Harrison was escorted to the street.

"I'm feeling much better now," they heard her say. "If you'll get me a taxi ... so stupid of me . . . just a weak spell . . . I'll be all right."

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"Okay, lady," said the house detective, as he helped her into a cab. "Hope you feel better by the time you get home."

"Thank you."

He shut the door but stood there, hoping to hear the address she would give the cabbie. But "Mrs. Harrison" said nothing. The detective opened the door and asked if she really felt all right to go alone.

"Oh, yes."

"Want me to give the driver your address?" he pursued solicitously.

"No, thanks. I can manage. You needn't wait."

There seemed to be no excuse for the man to stay longer. Noting that Frank and Joe were ready to take up the pursuit, however, he went back into the hotel satisfied.

The cab pulled away. The Hardy boys followed close behind.