CHAPTER I

Prison Break

"If somebody doesn't toss a mystery your way, fellows, we may actually be swimming in this pool one of these days."

Frank and Joe Hardy stopped digging and leaned on their shovels. The boys grinned as they studied the perspiring, chubby face of Chet Morton.

"Shall we tell him, Joe?" asked Frank with an exaggerated lift of his eyebrows.

"Tell me what?" Chet demanded. "Aw, listen, fellows, long before school closed for the summer you promised me you'd come out here to the farm and help me clean out this bog. Now you finally made it, let's stick to it!"

Eighteen-year-old Frank Hardy, with a wink at his brother, who was only a year younger, gazed thoughtfully at their best friend.

"Who said anything about quitting?" he ob-

i

2 The Secret of Wildcat Swamp

served. "But in the meantime how would you like to help us catch a couple of train robbers, Chct?"

"\Vh-\vhat?"

"No kidding!" Joe assured him. "Last night Dad was talking about one of his cases, ancl said maybe we could help him."

The brothers, sons of Fenton Hardy, an internationally known private detective, often served as assistants to their father. Chet Morton had shared their exciting adventures upon several occasions, but he preferred the enjoyment of a good meal to such strenuous activity.

"Tr-train robbers! Not me! I'd rather dig," Chet retorted.

He sent his long-handled shovel deep into the rnire. Then with a heave that revealed a great deal more strength than his rotund figure suggested, he hoisted a load of muck and shale from the bottom of the bog to the high ground behind him.

"Say, look at that shale you just tossed up!" Joe exclaimed as his quick eye noticed part of Chet's last shovelful landing on the bank. "It cracked open, and there are funny-looking marks inside it!"

Curious, Frank picked up a piece of the shale and inspected it more closely.

"Looks like indentations from old clamshells, doesn't it?" he remarked. "Wonder how they got there?"

"Oh, you find all sorts of queer marks on rocks

Prison Break 3

and things which have been under water," Chet answered knowingly. "That's nothing at all. Throw the silly thing away and let's get on with this job!"

A new voice interrupted him. "Wait! Don't throw that away. It's valuable."

Turning, the three boys discovered Thomas "Cap" Bailey, popular track coach and science teacher at Bayport High, standing on the rim of the excavation. Still in his middle twenties, he therefore was not much older than his students, who had high regard for his record as a former captain in the Air Force.

"That's a brachiopod!" he exclaimed, examining the piece of shale in Frank's hand.

"A w-who?" Chet stuttered.

"It's a valuable fossil-maybe millions of years old," Cap reported with a smile at his student's puzzlement. "They turn up every now and then in different corners of the world, and scientists use them to trace the development of man and animals through the ages."

Crouching down beside the boys, he showed them what a perfect specimen the brachiopod was.

"You ought to take this down to our Bayport Museum, Chet. I doubt that there's one like it in their collection."

Chet's barrel chest swelled. "Good thing I shoveled that out of this bog," he remarked in what was meant to be an offhand manner. "It might have

4 The Secret of Wildcat Swamp

stayed under here for another century or two!"

Frank nudged Joe. In a loud stage whisper, he asked of no one in particular:

"Who was it, a couple of minutes ago, that was telling me to 'throw the silly thing away'?"

Chet's sputtered reply was interrupted by Cap, who spoke directly to the Hardy brothers.

"How would you fellows like to combine some detective work with fossils?" he asked.

"I knew it!" Chet moaned. "Here goes our pool. It'll never be finished now."

Frank and Joe eagerly questioned their science teacher for more details.

"Just a week before school closed," he said, "I received a letter from an old aunt of mine out West. Her husband, Alexander Bailey, died recently, just when he felt he was on the verge of an important discovery."

"Was he a scientist, too?" Joe inquired.

"Yes, a geologist. It seems that about a year ago he uncovered part of what appeared to be a giant fossil, and from his previous experience he decided it was a prehistoric camel that once roamed the western United States."

"A camel!" Chet gulped. "Did Indians ride 'em?"

The only answer he got was a solid dig in the ribs from Joe, who was nearest, as Cap went on, "Soon after my uncle's discovery one of those terrific western storms hit the spot and completely

Prison Break 5

obliterated all of his work. Then he was taken ill and did not recover."

"Too bad," Frank murmured.

Chet, still hoping to keep the Hardys working at his project, asked how Cap's aunt expected him to find the camel when it was covered up.

"I haven't told you all the story," Cap replied. "Before he died, my uncle scratched out a rough map of the section, with the location of his original discovery indicated on it. He called the place 'Wildcat Swamp.' "

That was all Chet needed. "Wildcats!" he exclaimed, and concentrated his attention on the excavation job.

His shovel fairly flew as he tried to ignore any more of the conversation, but under his breath the others could hear him muttering:

"Train robbers-wildcats-swamps-ugh!"

"The reason my uncle called the place Wildcat Swamp," Cap Bailey went on, "was that not far from the site of his discovery he had found a sign reading: 'Here lie the bodies of twenty wildcat.' "

"That's strange," Joe remarked. "The killer must have been a mighty hunter."

Bailey nodded, and considered his two young friends. "I guess anyone going into the area would have to keep his eyes open. And, incidentally, I've already found out there is some danger to even starting for the spot."

"What do you mean?" the boys chorused.

6 The Secret of Wildcat Swamp

"Well, after school closed I started for Wildcat Swamp alone, in my car. I hadn't made any secret about my trip. Any number of people must have heard me talking about what I intended to do. But I hadn't driven far from Bayport when I was held up by two masked men and all my money stolen. I was told to go back home and stay there."

Frank weighed the coach's words thoughtfully. "You think they meant to discourage you from going after the fossil?" he asked.

"Of course I'm not positive, because they didn't mention the fossil specifically, and didn't take the map. That might have been because another car came along just then. But they seemed to know who I was, and mentioned that it would be healthier for me in the East than out West."

"It does sound as if they wanted you to give up the idea of that trip," Joe commented. "But why? Their language sounds more like thugs than that of scientists."

Cap Bailey nodded quietly. "A mystery already. The reason I came out to see you two Hardys," he said, "is this: How would you like to make the trip with me! We all know one another pretty well, from classwork and from our track activities, and I think you could be a big help. What do you say?"

Frank and Joe hardly had to look at each other to confirm their enthusiasm.

"It sounds wonderful to me," shouted the im-

Prison Break 7

pulsive Joe. "Let's get ready. How soon do we leave?"

Frank was just as receptive to the idea of adventure as his brother, but slightly more realistic in his approach.

"Three of us together should certainly be able to handle more trouble than one man alone, but first we'll have to get Dad's and Mother's okay."

As it turned out, that was no problem at all. When they reached home, their quiet, pretty mother said she would leave the decision to their father. After the situation had been explained to him that evening, the tall, well-built detective said with a smile:

"I think such a trip would be good experience for you boys, and besides, it might even work in with the case I asked you to help on."

"You mean the train robbers? How?" Frank asked.

"I had Sam Radley, my best operative, tailing a fellow named Gerald Flint for some time after he was released from Delmore Prison. Once Sam overheard Flint use a phrase that sounded like 'twenty wildcat' in such a way that he's sure it has some special significance. And now Flint has disappeared."

"Wow!" Joe cried. "You don't mean he's in Wildcat Swamp?"

"I wouldn't go that far," his father answered.

8 The Secret of Wildcat Swamp

"But a good detective never misses a clue. If you boys can find out more about the 'twenty wildcat,' it may help me."

Cap Bailey was pleased to hear the brothers could go with him.

"I'll give you a couple of days to pack up," he told them.

Next morning, at their father's suggestion, Frank and Joe paid a visit to Warden Duckworth at Del-more Prison. The officer was a friend of Mr. Hardy's, and he gladly spent some time telling the boys about Gerald Flint, an old-timer with a long record. Flint was described as a big, loudmouthed man, who could be soft-spoken and persuasive when he wanted to be.

"His best friends here at our prison," the warden remarked, "were Willie the Penman and Jesse Turk. Willie's real name is William Mogul, but no one ever calls him that. He's a little scrawny fellow with a high-pitched voice, and one of the best-or worst -forgers in the country. He was released at the same time as Flint."

"What about the other fellow-Turk?"

"Jesse is still here. He's a mountain of a man-a former locomotive engineer, and an expert electrician, but not too popular. He has a mean look about him-always frowning at something."

Frank and Joe were just bidding the warden good-by when they heard a sudden clanging, fol-

Prison Break 9

lowed by the deafening roar of a siren directly overhead.

"There's been a break!" Duckworth shouted. "Stay where you are, boys, or you may get into a line of fire!"

A moment later the telephone on his desk added to the din. As Duckworth lifted it, Frank and Joe could hear excited chatter on the other end of the line. The warden turned to the boys, his eyes popping.

"It's Turk-he's escaped!"