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

"Yes," the man said pleasantly. "I'm pushing to finish my picture for the exhibit."

The Hardys glanced at the canvas-a landscape in vivid greens, reds, and yellow. Warren kept his brush moving. "Tried that fishing at the north end yet?"

"No." Frank smiled. "We'll keep it in mind."

In the garage Frank slid behind the wheel of the luxurious limousine and pulled out into the road above Mill wood.

It was late afternoon by the time they reached the fort. There had been no trace of the phony detour sign. Frank parked, and they unlocked the gate, then climbed the hill toward the ramparts. Pausing on the glacis, the boys looked at the map, then at the tracing showing the locations of figures in the pictures.

The actual shape of Senandaga was that of a square with diamond-shaped bastions at the corners of its four ramparts.

Frank pointed to a high, wedge-shaped defensive stonework which stood in front of the ditch. "That must be the demilune-the south one. There's another to the west."

They decided to begin their hunt by checking outside the fort walls and ditch. First, the Hardys walked north along the zigzagging ditch, then to the spot where the wall had fallen. They stopped to examine the rubble.

"Hey!" Joe yelled, pushing aside a rock. Underneath lay a round black object. "An old cannon ball!"

The Hardys wondered: Had it been hurled against the ancient wall to cause the collapse? They surveyed the crenelated walls of blocked stone. Although its soldiers and cannon were long gone, a forbidding, ominous silence seemed to make itself felt around the bastion.

As Frank's eyes passed over the crumbled roofs visible above the walls, he stopped suddenly. "Joe, look!"

Waving atop a flagpole on the southeast rampart was a white and gold flag!

"It's the flag used by the French before their revolution!" Frank exclaimed, recognizing the pattern of three white lilies. "But it wasn't here the first time we came."

"One thing is sure-it's no relic," Joe said. "Mr. Davenport didn't mention anything about a flag."

They stared at the mysterious banner, recalling the drumbeats they had heard earlier. Who had placed the old French colors over the fort?

Hastily the Hardys continued along the ditch to an area which they had marked on their tracing sheet. They hoped to find some kind of marking or rock formation at the same spots the figures stood in the paintings.

"Over here, a little more to the right," Joe said, comparing the map and sheet. Frank noticed that freshly churned-up soil surrounded their feet.

"Joe! Somebody's been digging!"

"You're right!" Joe reached down and felt the earth.

"If the treasure was here," Frank reasoned, "we're out of luck."

They walked toward the west demilune. But halfway, Joe noticed a pillar of black smoke in the sky. It came from beyond a shadowed promontory to the north of the lake.

"Frank, that looks like a fire!"

"It is. I wonder, Joe! It's coming from Mill-wood!"

CHAPTER XI.

The Lake Monster.