CHAPTER XXTV
A BTJKIBD LIFEBOAT
A shock of dismay swept over them.
"That's the last straw!" Chet said in a voice husky with fright. "I'm going home!"
'' No, you 're not!'' rasped Frank. '' Fellows, we'll have to do some fast work. We've been entrusted with Chipsley's camera and it's gone. We must find it!"
"It would be bad enough if the camera belonged to us, but it doesn't," Joe groaned. "Furthermore, it's worth a fortune. If Kuntz should get it-----"
"He'll be the only diver in the country who'll ever be given contracts," Frank finished. "He'll be famous over night for the work he can do with that little instrument."
"And there's no telling what else besides legitimate diving jobs he'll use it for," his brother suggested. "With that camera it would be a simple matter to locate hidden bank vaults and such things."
Suddenly the phone bell jangled.
"It's the hotel clerk," whispered Frank, holding his hand over the mouthpiece.
"Yes," he continued, "this is Frank Hardy.
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How's that? Oh! Very well. Thank you."
"What is it?" Joe inquired.
"The clerk says Mr. Perry called while we were out. He wants us to come down to the barge right away and bring the camera. They need another series of pictures to clear up some complications the divers have run into."
"Golly, isn't that just our luck!" Joe muttered disconsolately.
"We'd better tell the police," Chet murmured.
"Oh, they wouldn't be able to help much," Joe protested.
"No, I think Chet's right," the older Hardy lad decided. "They may not find a clue, and then again it's possible they will. It's worth a try."
On their way to the dock the boys stopped off at the local police headquarters, where Frank explained the situation and asked for help in locating the camera. The desk sergeant promised to assign a man to the task immediately.
"We'll let you boys know if we find out anything," the official said.
At the dock Perry emerged from the darkness to greet them, his face wreathed in smiles.
"We've removed nearly a thousand dollars' worth of jewels already, fellows!" he exclaimed, "but I think some of the gold and silver bullion is in an adjoining vault. We can't get into it without a lot of trouble, and we need the camera." He suddenly stopped, seeing the gloomy
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look on Frank's face. "Why, what's the matter?"
"The camera-it's gone!" Joe blurted out.
"Stolen! About an hour ago!"
Frank related the incident, adding that they had enlisted the aid of the police and that they would not rest until the device had been recovered.
Perry clenched his fists. "If ever I lay my hands on Kuntz, I'll-" He paused, too angry to finish.
"I think the thing for you to do, Mr. Perry, is to go ahead with the work on the Katawa, at least as much of it as you can do without more pictures," Frank suggested. "In the meantime, Joe and Chet and I will find Kuntz somehow and get back that machine one way or another."
"It's likely he has the thing," the diver replied, "though there's a chance that such is not the case. Somebody else may have stolen it."
"Quite true," Joe admitted, "but whoever he was, he undoubtedly did the job for Kuntz. "We'd better work on that premise until we find out differently."
"Well, best of luck, fellows!" Perry called, attempting io be cheerful. "We'll be waiting to hear from you."
With a wave of his big hand he jumped into the skiff and disappeared in the darkness.
«' What now ?'' blinked Chet. «' Are we start-
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ing out on some more wild detective chases? Why not go back and get a little sleep first?"
"Frank, I've an idea!" Joe suddenly burst out. "How about Hornblow, the crazy officer? Do you suppose that by some chance he got away from the asylum? Maybe he's mixed up with the warnings we've been getting."
"There's a bare possibility that he might be," Frank admitted. "Won't do any harm to call the place and find out."
The chums piled into their car and raced to the nearest roadside tavern. Frank disappeared into a phone booth.
"What do you know about that!" he exclaimed, running out a moment later. "Horn-blow escaped from the asylum last week. They haven't found a trace of him!"
"If we find him, I'll bet we'll have a clue to at least some of our problems," Joe said excitedly. "It's even possible that he stole the camera. Maybe Kuntz hasn't it after all!"
It was now long past midnight. There seemed to be little chance of conducting a search before morning so the chums turned in and slept fitfully until dawn.
"I've a plan," Frank announced at breakfast. '' Chet might stay here at the hotel today and watch for Kuntz, Bock and Simon. If he sees them he can find out somehow where they're going and let us know when we return. Joe, you and I can scout around town, each of us going by himself."
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"Good idea," Joe agreed. "We should discover something."
An inquiry at the hotel desk revealed that Kuntz had not given up his room, though it had been unoccupied for several days. He had not been seen in the lobby. With Chet on watch, the Hardys departed.
"I think I'll go around to the hospital and talk to Chipsley first," Joe decided. "Might possibly get a clue there. I'll meet you here at seven o'clock tonight."
Frank's first stop was at police headquarters.
"I'm sorry, young man, but we haven't found a trace of the camera yet," the sergeant replied to the lad's inquiry. "We'll let you know as soon as we do."
The boy spent the forenoon trudging about town, hoping to catch a glimpse of one or more of the missing scoundrels. After a fruitless hunt he turned into a sandwich shop at noon for a bite to eat. A ragged newsboy came in after him.
"Paper, Mister?"
Frank bought a copy of the Journal and gazed at it idly. Suddenly a small headline near the bottom of the second page startled him. Hastily he finished his sandwich, folded the paper into his pocket, and walked rapidly toward the hotel.
"Hello, Frank, what are you doing back here again?" asked a familiar voice at his elbow.
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"Joe! Golly, I'm glad you're here. I was hoping you'd be around. Look at this headline."
Joe murmured aloud as he scanned the dispatch.
" 'WARNING TO EEED'S POINT CITIZENS. Look out for maniac who escaped from Overlook Sanatorium last Friday night.' Golly, Frank, that must be Hornblow!" Joe cried.
"Bead the rest of it. See if you get the same hunch I did."
The dispatch ran thus:
"Authorities at Overlook Sanatorium caution all citizens to be on watch for a dangerous inmate who made a bold escape from the institution in broad daylight last Friday. The name of the man was not revealed, but it was said that he is a former ship's officer. Local police are patrolling Reed's Point dock, where divers are attempting to raise a cargo of valuables from the sunken Katawa, following a statement by Dr. C. J. Crow of the Overlook staff that the man might be found among the spectators."
Joe hesitated a moment, then jumped up, his eyes alight. "I think I know what you're driving at!" he exclaimed. "Could the fellow be hiding in the sand dunes somewhere, awaiting a chance to look for the lifeboat he was raving ftoout?"
"Exactly!" Frank agreed. "Of course, it's
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only a hunch. It must sound a little faiv fetched,"
"I think it's a swell idea! Hornblow certainly believes his own story, and with all the excitement about the Katawa now he may have decided to try to find the treasure. But-----"
"Oh, there are a lot of objections, I know," the older Hardy lad admitted. "For instance, why would he think that the officers would steal the gold and then go away and leave it?"
"Well, the man's mind is off center, Frank. He probably remembers only one thing-that the officers put the gold in the lifeboat and rowed to the beach, assuming, of course, that such a thing happened at all."
"Whether it occurred or not, Hornblow thinks it did, so there's a chance that he might try to follow up his idea."
The brothers agreed that a search of the lonely beach might be worth the effort. Accordingly, they set out for the edge of town.
"Golly, Frank, this sand must reach all the way from here to Florida. Where '11 we start I''
"If Hornblow's around at all, he won't be far from the Katawa."
They walked a little distance along the beach, and paused to look around. The scene was indeed a desolate one. Sand and water stretched away for miles. To the north they could see the village in the distance. A little to the rigjt of the town was the dock, half hidden behind intervening sand dunes. The barge was faintly
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visible, riding the long ocean swells far out in the haze.
To the south, which was the direction they were taking, there was nothing but sand and ocean. Here and there were clumps of marsh grass waving from dunes and hillocks. The sea was frothing with white-caps.
"We'll look around this part of the beach now and try the north side of the dock tomorrow," Frank decided.
They trudged for more than an hour without seeing a sign of anything indicating that Hornblow might be in the vicinity. At length it began to grow dark. Ominous storm clouds began piling up in the southwest, so the lads turned around and headed back toward the distant village.
"Shucks, I think this is a wild goose chase," Joe grumbled, rubbing his aching legs, "looking for a maniac a hundred miles from nowhere !''
A flash of lightning streaked across the sky and was followed by a rumble of thunder. It was now so dark that the boys could hardly see the sand beneath their feet.
"I'm afraid we're going to get wet," said Frank, "unless we can cover the quarter of a mile back to the car in a hurry! I-----"
He was interrupted by a cry from his brother.
"Frank! What's that? Look!"
Far down the lonely beach behind them a sheet of flame had sprung up suddenly.
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"Bonfire!'' Frank cried. '' Just about where we turned around to come back."
They strained their eyes intently, and could see the shadow of a human figure flitting before the flames every few seconds.
"Joe! Get the police quick! That's Horn-blow, sure as anything!"
His younger brother dashed off in the darkness and Frank hurriedly retraced his steps toward the fire. He turned inland to avoid being discovered, skirting a fringe of tall swamp grass along the inner margin of the beach. A quarter of an hour later he arrived opposite the fire, which was raging just out of reach of the pounding surf.
Frank peered cautiously through the thick grass. For a moment he could see nothing but flames. Suddenly a shrouded figure emerged from behind the glare and came toward him.
To his relief, the strange apparition stopped its advance scarcely a dozen feet from him. It stood still for a moment, then withdrew a email shovel from the folds of its black cape. Frank heard a soft crunch on the sand.
The figure bent here and there, digging furiously. Suddenly the black hood tumbled off, and in the firelight Frank recognized the face. It was that of Hornblow!
The older Hardy lad's first impulse was to run up and seize the fellow, but he rejected the idea instantly. Better to watch him a while and see what would happen.
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Fifteen minutes later the demented officer was still digging, pausing now and then only long enough to toss another armful of driftwood on the fire. Frank could hear him muttering to himself as the hole in the sand became deeper.
"Gold! That's what I want! The gold!" he was mumbling excitedly. "It's here, down here in the buried lifeboat!'' Panting heavily, he redoubled his efforts. Grains of sand caught by the rising wind blew about in all directions.
Suddenly Frank thought he heard a rustle in the grass not far from him. He strained his eyes through the shadows near by, just in time to see three men sneak up silently behind the laboring maniac.
Before the lad could move a muscle one of the strangers had raised a bulky object and flung it at Hornblow's head. The unfortunate man crumpled up without a sound.