"Dixon, Franklin W - Hardy Boys 037 - The Ghost At Skeleton Rock (Original)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dixon Franklin W)

"The better models do," replied the stout boy. "Why?"
"Oh, just a hunch I had about something." Turning to his brother, Joe went on,
"Do you suppose Dad's message might have referred to one of those dummies?"
Frank nodded. "It's an idea."
"Don't tell me you fellows are wrestling with another mystery?" Chet inquired
uneasily.
"Right. And you're just the one to help us solve it," Joe told Chet, slapping
him on the back.
"Not me!" Chet protested with a shudder.
Getting involved in the Hardys' crime cases always gave Chet the jitters,
although the roly-poly high-school boy had already been through several
dangerous adventures with Joe and Frank.
"This won't get you into any danger," Joe assured him. Hastily he explained
about the puzzling message which Mr. Hardy had sent from Puerto Rico.
"Where do I come in?" Chet asked suspiciously,
"When you go shopping for a Hugo dummy, just keep your eyes open. Better yet,
let us go with you. Maybe we'll run across some kind of a clue."
"We-e-ell ... I guess I can go along that far with you," Chet agreed grudgingly.
"Where did you plan on buying your dummy?" Frank asked.
"Bivven's Novelty Shop, That's where I've been getting all my books on
ventriloquism."
"Okay. Let's go!"
After stopping in the house for lemonade with the girls and to pick up Chet's
wallet, the three boys piled into the convertible and drove off. A few minutes
later they pulled up in front of the novelty shop on King Street.
A bell tinkled as they walked in and Mr. Bivven, the squat, baldheaded
proprietor, came out of the back room to greet them.
He beamed at the trio across the counter. "Something you'd like, boys?"
Chet said he wanted to look over the store's stock of ventriloquist's dummies.
One by one, Mr. Bivven showed his stock, but Chet turned them all down and asked
for a Hugo dummy. The proprietor went to his storeroom and emerged presently
with a cardboard box. It contained a Hugo dummy, clad in a tuxedo and red
turban.
"I just received this today," Mr. Bivven said, Taking out the dummy, Chet set it
on the counter and began putting on an impromptu ventriloquist act.
Frank watched, chuckling, for a moment. Then he picked up the instruction sheet
which was lying in the box and began to read it. The simple directions were
printed in three languages—English, French, and Spanish.
The doorbell tinkled again and two men entered the shop. One was tall and
rough-looking, with large ears that stuck out from his head; the other was short
and swarthy-complexioned.
Joe, who was standing alongside Chet and Frank, watched the men out of the
corner of his eye. They stopped in front of a trayful of water pistols and began
picking them over. It looked as though they were killing time until the
proprietor could wait on them.
"Okay. I guess I'll take this one," Chet decided finally.
As he pulled out his wallet to pay for the dummy, Mr. Bivven put the figure back
in the box and started to wrap it.
"Good thing you stopped in today, son," he remarked chattily. "This here's the
only Hugo in stock. If you'd waited any longer, I reckon you'd have been plumb