CHAPTER XXIV

Crowfeet

captain gramwell was barking orders over the loud-speaker system:

"All hands report to the hold to move shifting cargo! Delay may mean disaster!"

The boys were already racing below deck, as were Chet and Biff from another part of the ship. In the hold, men, their bodies glistening with sweat, were heaving crates of cargo to the portside. Frantically they worked; the heavy thud of boxes the only sound -except for an occasional sharp command.

The boys were directed to a post where the men, formed in a double line, were swiftly passing cargo from one to another. Together, Frank and Joe caught the bulky cases as they came, and then tossed them on, their arms working like machines in high gear.

On, on, on came the cases in rapid-fire succession.

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Minutes passed, and each box felt heavier than the one before. The Hardy boys' backs ached, their hands stung, their breathing turned into short, painful gasps for air, and streams of perspiration rolled down over their eyelids. But to let up for even a fraction of a second would throw off the whole operation.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, but was only a few minutes, there was a perceptible movement underfoot. Slowly, reluctantly, the ship rolled toward the portside.

"We've righted her!" shouted the officer in charge.

The boys went up on deck. As they were discussing what had happened, Captain Gramwell came over to thank them for helping out. Then he shook his head, muttering grimly:

"I can't understand it. hoav that cargo could have been loaded so badly-whoever was in charge is going to hear about it-"

Frank and Joe looked at each other. The same thought had been running through the minds of both of them. Then Frank spoke slowly:

"I feel we ought to tell you this, sir. We think that it was done deliberately, because we shipped with you."

Joe told him about the woman's warning: You'll never come back alive!

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The captain was incredulous. "Why, it's fantastic that anyone would go to such length!"

Next, the boys informed him of the note left for Mr. McClintock, and finally showed him the decoded wireless message from Mr. Hardy.

"Well!" sputtered the captain, showing some of his former fire, "one thing I can do is to have Sparks contact every ship in this area. If there is any freighter around not identifiable, we'll do a little investigating!"

That afternoon he called the boys to his cabin, and told them he had checked with the offices of his company by wireless. He had received a report on all vessels known to be within a three-hundred-mile radius, and had then established radio contact with each one.

"The only ship which reports seeing something strange is the Lion Tamer. Her captain suggested I change our course and go to meet her. Can't tell who might be picking up messages."

"Odd name for a ship," remarked Biff Hooper.

"She's in the wild-animal trade," the officer explained. "Specially equipped for carrying circus animals. I've known her captain for years."

The Lion Tamer was sighted shortly after three o'clock. Greatly to the delight of the Hardys and their friends, her captain invited them to go on

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board. A boat was swung out from the Father Neptune. The four boys and Mr. McClintock were rowed across to the "floating menagerie" as Chips called it.

"What a racket!" exclaimed Biff, as they climbed up the rope ladder that was lowered over the side. The Lion Tamer resounded with shrieks, squeals, roars and bellows. Dozens of animals were imprisoned in big cages, some down in the hold, others on deck.

"And what a smell!" gasped McClintock.

Captain Gordon of the Lion Tamer seemed to notice neither the noise nor the odors. He showed the boys around the ship, and then gave them the information about which he had hinted to Captain Gramwell.

"Your skipper was asking about an unreported freighter," he said. "Well, I saw one that seemed to be drifting. Couldn't see any signs of life and got no answer when we hailed her." He gave them the approximate position of the mysterious ship.

The visitors returned to the Father Neptune in a state of high excitement. They were sure that the drifting hulk must be the smugglers' ship. Captain Gramwell promptly set his course toward the position indicated. *

"Should sight her just before dark," he said.

His estimation was correct. The sun was just

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sinking in the west when there was a report from the crow's-nest.

"Freighter on the starboard bow!"

On the horizon they soon glimpsed the dark silhouette of a ship. Captain Gramwell gazed at the vessel through his binoculars.

"Just as Gordon said-no sign of life. It may be a derelict."

The Father Neptune drew steadily closer. Again the captain raised the glasses to his eyes.

"Freshly painted ship," he said. "Its name is the Black Gull. Say, I think I saw a man run across the deck just now and dive behind the fo'c'sle cabin."

Captain Gramwell ordered flag signals run up, in case the other ship's radio was out of commission. But there were no answering signals. Instead, there came a puff of smoke from the Black Gull's stack and the apparently derelict freighter began to move!

"She's on the run!" exclaimed Captain Gramwell, as he rang for full speed ahead. "That's no derelict."

"Will she get away from us?" asked Frank apprehensively.

Captain Gramwell laughed. "That hulk!" he scoffed. "No boat of that type can outrun mine."

But the captain was mistaken. To his surprise and fury, the Black Gull not only remained out of reach but gradually widened the gap between the

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two ships. The captain snatched up the intercom telephone.

"What's the matter down there?" he shouted. "I called for full speed and we're not overhauling that ship."

"I can't understand it, sir," returned the chief engineer. "We register top speed."

It was growing dark. Captain Gramwell, puzzled by the inability of his vessel to overtake the clumsy-looking Black Gull, ordered a searchlight trained on the other ship. Frank slipped down to the wireless room and coded out a message to his father. It gave the approximate position of the Black Gull.

Believe phantom freighter Black Gull sighted but cannot overtake. Aircraft might be helpful.

Having despatched the message, he hurried back on deck. By this time the Black Gull had escaped the probing searchlight and vanished into the darkness. Captain Gramwell stalked the bridge in a rage. His pride was hurt.

"There's not a freighter in these waters faster than my ship!" he insisted. "I can't understand it."

Frank went back to the wireless room. As he walked in, there was a faint burst of signals from the set. Sparks heard them without interest. But Frank, also familiar with the international code, cried out in surprise.

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The signals spelled out the familiar numbers: A23-151-C2!

"That's the smugglers' code!" the boy exclaimed. "Not motor numbers at all!"

"The men aren't far away, if that message came from the Black Gull!" said Sparks.

A few minutes later, the numbers were repeated. The smugglers must have been confident their code would not be recognized, but this overconfidence gave them away. Using the "locator," Sparks was able to make a "fix" on the chart. Soon Captain Gramwell had set a new course, and the Father Neptune steamed swiftly through the night.

The Hardy boys went up on the bridge and stood beside the captain. Finally he gave an order. The searchlight blazed out across the water. Frank and Joe uttered whoops of excitement. The dark mass of the Black Gull lay clearly revealed in the light, not a quarter of a mile away.

But the freighter was no longer in motion. It lay apparently deserted and adrift, just as they had first discovered it.

"Maybe the crew abandoned it when they knew we were chasing the ship," suggested Joe.

"I'll send a boat over to make sure," said Captain Gramwell.

"Let me go, sir," requested Sparks quickly.

"And may we go with him?" begged Joe and Frank.

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Mr. McClintock spoke up. "You two watch your step," he advised. "I feel responsible for your safety."

The captain consented to their rowing over. "But don't go aboard unless you're sure no one's there," he ordered. "Just row around the Black Gull and if you hear voices or any sounds of life, come right back. We'll keep the searchlight trained on the ship. You stay out of range of the light, so you won't be a target."

Soon the Hardys and Sparks were rowing across the dark waters. Gradually they came closer to the black freighter, lying silent and mysterious in the night. There was not a sound except the steady splash of waves against its steel hull.

To keep out of range of the Father Neptune's searchlight, the three rowed around to the far side of the ship. As they went on slowly in the inky darkness, Joe pulled a flashlight from his pocket and switched it on. It revealed a ship's ladder dangling over the side of the ship.

"I guess you were right, Joe," whispered Sparks. "The crew got frightened and took to the boats."

"Let's go on board," said Frank.

They went alongside. Joe grabbed the ladder and climbed up. Frank followed, and Sparks came behind, after making the small boat fast to the lowest rung of the ladder. Once on deck they peered cau-

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tiously about in the gloom, keeping out of the rays of the searchlight.

"Not a soul on board," muttered Sparks. "Yes sir, they thought they were going to be caught, so they cleared out and-"

The words died in his throat. From out of the shadows sprang a dozen men. The Hardy boys and Sparks were overwhelmed, knocked down and seized. Their wild struggles were useless. As they fought vainly, they heard a sardonic voice say:

"Didn't know when to stay out of trouble, hah! So now you're in old Crowfeet's handsl Take 'em below, men!"

They were roughly hauled down a companionway to a cabin. It was brightly lighted, but the portholes were covered with heavy blackout curtains. Here the three faced their captors who were a villainous-looking lot. The chief was a huge, black-bearded man. This was Crowfeet, leader of the smugglers 1 He looked his prisoners over, his hairy arms folded.

"Welcome, my buckoes!" he boomed. "Welcome to your new home. Behave yourselves and you'll get along fine."

"We won't be here long," returned Frank defiantly.

"And why not?" barked Crowfeet. "If you think you can escape from my ship, young fellow-"

"We won't have to try. There 11 be help coming

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from the Father Neptune. By morning there'll be others searching for this ship."

Crowfeet's laugh was derisive. "A lot of good that ·will do," he roared. "No one can board this ship unless I let him. No ship and no plane can touch me, as you'll find out. I've got protection. A secret repeller! The greatest invention of the past two years. So you'd better forget about rescue, because there won't be anyl"

He turned to one of his men.

"Order full speed ahead. And if the Father Neptune tries to follow, turn the repeller on full power! Captain Gramwell will think his engines have gone into reverse!" Crowfeet chuckled evilly. "All right, men. On deck!" he ordered. "We'll let our prisoners have a chance to think things over."

The smugglers went out. Crowfeet followed, slamming the hatch. The captives heard a metallic bang as a heavy bolt fell into place.