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

"I can't stop!"

Faster and faster they skidded downward. Like bulky phantoms, trees grazed the fenders as Chet steered frantically between them. Jolted, his hands lost control of the wheel.

"We're going into the lake!" Joe yelled.

The front of the car seemed to lurch into the air. Their heads banged the roof an instant before the Queen struck water. She stopped almost instantly.

Frank shouldered his door open and sloshed through the shallow depths to pull Chet out. Joe crawled from the back window and the three waded to shore.

"Everybody all right?" Frank asked breathlessly.

"Yes-but the Queen!" Chet exclaimed in dismay. The jalopy stood fender-deep in water.

Joe scrambled above to get help. Frank and Chet, grabbing a rope out of the trunk, moored the car to two trees to keep it from rolling out any deeper. There were dents and a smashed headlight, but the boys were worried there might be serious mechanical damage.

Chet heaved a sigh. "My poor Queen!"

Shivering in wet clothing, the two boys waited in the darkness for what seemed hours. Then they heard vehicles stopping and excited voices. Soon Joe appeared, accompanied by two policemen.

"I finally flagged down a car," he panted. The driver had notified the police, who in turn summoned a tow truck.

Joe had already given a report to the officers. "A nasty trick-that fake detour," one said. "We'll step up our patrol along there."

The boys wanted to stay until Chet's car was pulled to safety, but the policemen insisted on driving them back to Millwood.

Huddled under blankets, the three sleuths speculated among themselves on the return trip. Who could have set the dangerous trap? And why?

"I'll bet someone rigged it to keep us from Fort Senandaga!" Joe exclaimed.

"How'd he know we were going?"

"Could've overheard us talking about it," said Frank. "Maybe those drumbeats were to lure us there."

At the Millwood entrance they thanked the officers and headed quickly toward their quarters. "Wait until Uncle Jim hears about this!" Chet's teeth chattered.

As they cut across the wide lawn, Joe glanced over at the grove in which the gallery stood. It was in total blackness.

"Funny," he murmured. "What happened to the light we put over the-?"

Instinctively sensing trouble, the Hardys streaked across the lawn. Chet followed. They found the front door unlocked and cautiously pushed it open.

A flashlight beam struck them squarely in the eyes! A shadowy figure approached. The boys dashed in, ready for a fight. The next moment they stopped short.

"Uncle Jim!" Chet gasped. "What-?"

The instructor's face was ashen. Wordlessly he flicked on the light switch and pointed toward the far wall of the room. The twelve fort paintings were gone!

CHAPTER IX.