"Dixon, Franklin W - Hardy Boys 044 - The Haunted Fort (b)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dixon Franklin W)

Intrigued by the peppery sculptor, the Hardys asked him about the battle said to have taken place during the French-Indian conflict. "Is it true the British conquered the fort?" Frank asked.

"Jamais! Never!" was the violent protest. Waving his hands, the Frenchman told how the British, under the command of Lord Craig, coming by boat down Crown Lake, had attacked the bastion. They had forced the French to flee, but apparently had not held the fort long, since Chambord's men had returned to drive out their foe.

"Chambord was a great man!" Follette exulted. "His men were the last seen on the ramparts of Fort du Lac-not the Englanders!" He pounded the table fiercely.

At that moment Joe glimpsed a flash of gray moving away from the window. He could not be sure, but assumed it was someone in an artist's smock. Had the person been listening, or just passing by?

Frank was asking Rene Follette about the gold boom chain ordered by Chambord.

"I believe it was made," the sculptor replied. His voice lowered. "I also believe it was stolen, by the Britishers. It is my intention," he added, "to find the truth. In my own way."

With that, the excitable Frenchman arose and resumed his instruction.

Outside, the boys looked at one another. Chet grinned. "Mr. Follette is ready to fight that battle all over again," he said. "Think it's true about the French being the last holders of Senandaga?"

Frank chuckled. "Mr. Davenport may know. Why don't we drop over and see him?"

"Let's take the map along," Joe said. "I'll go back for it and meet you outside the mansion." He headed across the grounds to the storage building.

At the top of the stairwell inside, he heard a scrambling noise from below. Somebody was in their room!

Tensely, Joe swung down the winding metal steps and burst inside the open door. Too late he heard a sound behind him. A crashing blow descended on his head. The room reeling, Joe sank to the floor.

CHAPTER VIII.

Treacherous Detour.

REGAINING his senses, Joe found himself on his cot, looking up at the anxious faces of Frank and Chet. He sat up groggily, wincing as he touched his throbbing head.

"Ooo, who-scalped me?"

"The same person who stole our map of the fort," Frank said, handing his brother a cool gauze compress.

"The map!" Joe exclaimed. "Stolen!" He remembered hearing the rummaging noise before he was struck unconscious.

Frank pointed to their scattered clothing. "Somebody pried open our suitcases. Anyhow, the photostat's gone. Too bad we didn't come back sooner to find out why you didn't show up."

Joe insisted he felt well enough to accompany Frank and Chet to inform Mr. Davenport.

"I hope this theft won't upset him too much," Chet said worriedly.

"If it wasn't the picture thief or whoever we saw at the gallery last night, I've got another guess," Joe proposed. "Ronnie Rush."

"Possibly." Frank's brow creased. "It would help to find out if he's only being nosy, or if he has a special interest in the gallery besides 'research.' "

They picked up Jim Kenyon at his studio and walked together to the mansion.

"Too bad," he said upon hearing the boys' story. "As far as I know, Ronnie's background is okay. But I'll try to keep a closer watch on him."