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

"Could you tell us something about the Prisoner-Painter, Mr. Davenport?" Joe asked. "And the fort, too?" At that instant Frank heard a faint sound and saw the double door of the study open a fraction of an inch!

"An eavesdropper!" he thought. Frank rushed across the room, but already footsteps were racing down the hallway. Grabbing the knobs, he flung the doors wide open.

CHAPTER IV.

A Crimson Clue.

STUMBLING footsteps sounded at the bottom of the high porch, but by the time Frank dashed outside, the eavesdropper had vanished.

Disappointed, he returned to the others in the study. "Whoever he was, he didn't drop any clues," Frank reported.

"You're alert, boys," Mr. Davenport commented. "I like that. What's more, you're not afraid, like that custodian who guarded my fort."

"Your fort?" Joe asked in surprise.

"Yes, young man, Senandaga belongs to me."

"What happened to the custodian?" asked Frank.

"He left. Quit. Said he couldn't stand all that haunting-queer noises and so forth. To hear him talk, there's a whole regiment of ghosts manning the parapets." Mr. Davenport looked thoughtful. "Of course, he claims he had some close calls."

"Such as?" Frank queried.

"Said chunks of masonry nearly fell on him a couple of times. But"-the art patron looked skeptical-"I don't put much stock in that."

"Now nobody takes care of the fort?" Joe asked.

"Nobody. And there aren't any pesky visitors, either," Davenport said with satisfaction. "Anyhow, we have enough to do tracking down the art thieves without worrying about the fort."

Then the boys asked Mr. Davenport about his ancestor, the Prisoner-Painter.

"Jason Davenport was a great soldier," he began. "When hostilities broke out between the North and the South, he rose quickly to brigadier general. Then, in one rally near the Potomac, he broke the Union line but penetrated too far without logistical support and was captured. He was held prisoner for the duration at my fort."

"A brave man," Joe said. "An ancestor to be proud of."

"The fort is south of here on Crown Lake, isn't it?" Frank asked.

Mr. Davenport nodded, motioning toward the large window. "If it weren't for the promontory nearby, you could see Senandaga." He reflected. "Jason Davenport died shortly after the war ended. But had he not been a prisoner there, there wouldn't be the seventeen canvases of Fort Senandaga, three of which," he added in a rueful tone, "have been stolen."

Mr. Davenport explained that the general had taken up painting to while away the days. He was a popular hero, well liked by his captors, and received many special favors, including the art materials necessary for his new interest.

"He showed a real genius in imagining different views of the fort from the surrounding countryside."

"And that's why his paintings are valuable enough to tempt a thief?" Joe asked, impressed.

"I'd like to think so," Mr. Davenport answered, "but I fear that's not the real reason. You see, there were rumors later that Jason had discovered an old French treasure in the fort-and that he had left a clue to its hiding place. My father and uncle didn't believe it, but I did. So I bought the fort two years ago from a private party."

"The general left this clue in a painting?" Chet guessed.