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Frank, who had answered, realized the telephone had been busy. Many interested friends of the Hardys had been calling to inquire about the detective's condition.
"I got your message about the plane," he said.
87 "That's swell. But say, I guess I pulled an awful b.o.n.e.r."
He apologetically told about his talk with the stranger, and described him.
"Wow!" Frank exclaimed. "He sounds like that man who came to Slow Mo's and tried to take the mystery car!"
"I shouldn't have opened my big mouth," Chet said in self-criticism.
After hanging up, Frank turned to Joe, told him the story, and added, "That guy is keeping close tabs on us. I don't like it."
The boys had scarcely returned to their work when the doorbell rang. Aunt Gertrude answered.
"Boys," she called, "come here!"
Hurrying to her side, Frank and Joe saw that she had a telegram in her hand.
"It's from Cousin Ruth," she said, pa.s.sing it over to Frank. The boy read it aloud with mingled feelings. It said: HAVE CHANGED MY PLANS. DO NOT COME TO CROWHEAD. RUTH.
"Gos.h.!.+" Joe exclaimed. "Just when we're all ready to go!"
"I wonder what happened?" Frank said, puzzled. "Things must have straightened out in a hurry."
"Nothing of the sort," declared Aunt Gertrude 88 emphatically. "Ruth is probably in the power of those bandits out there! It wouldn't surprise me if they made her send this wire!"
"You may be right," Frank said, secretly admiring his aunt's hunch. "Maybe Cousin Ruth was forced to tell us to cancel our trip."
"There's one way to find out,5" Frank put in. "Telephone Crowhead Ranch."
"It will cost a lot," his aunt said. "But that doesn't matter when the poor woman's life may be in danger! Frank, phone Cousin Ruth this minute!"
Her dark-haired nephew dialed long-distance. After a short delay he was connected with Crowhead Ranch, many hundreds of miles away.
"h.e.l.lo. This is Frank, Cousin Ruth."
"How are you? When is your father coming out here?"
"Didn't you send him a wire saying not to come?"
"No. Certainly not. The quicker he gets here the better."
"He's not coming; we are," Frank told his cousin. "Dad is ill. We'll tell you all about it when we see you," Frank added quickly to forestall any questions. "We'll be there the day after tomorrow. Good-bye."
When he told his brother what Cousin Ruth had said, Joe exclaimed, "An enemy of Cousin Ruth 89 must have forged the telegram. I can't wait to get there now."
Late the next afternoon Frank and Joe, accompanied by their mother and their aunt, went to the hospital to say good-bye to their father. Mr. Hardy was in good spirits. The doctor had said he could go home the following day.
"Keep your eyes and ears open, boys," he advised, "and look for the unusual. I'm sure you'll be able to clear up what's worrying Cousin Ruth."
"We'll do our best, Dad," Frank replied.
"Don't take any unnecessary risks," the detective cautioned as his sons left. "And keep me posted on what's happening."
When the brothers reached the airport, Chet was there, grinning gleefully under a ten-gallon hat. After fond farewells to their families, the three boys boarded the plane. In a few moments the engines roared and the big craft soared into the sky. Bay-port became a speck in the distance, finally disappearing on the horizon.
The plane made several stops across the country, arriving very early the next morning at El Paso, Texas. The boys got off and looked around for a small charter craft to fly them to Crowhead. When Frank entered the administration building for information, a man approached him.
"You looking for a charter plane?" he asked.
90 "Yes," the boy replied. "How did you know?"
"Just saw you fellows get off the transport," he replied. "Judging from the way you looked around, I figured you were hankering for a charter hop."
"That's right," said Frank. "Where can I I get a plane?" get a plane?"
The man looked pleased. "A friend of mine has a nifty s.h.i.+p," he said. "He'll take you wherever you want to go. And very reasonable, too."
Something about the man's overeagerness aroused Frank's suspicions.
"I have something to attend to first," the boy said. "I'll talk to you later if we want to engage your friend."
When Frank told Chet and his brother about the man's offer, they agreed that they had best be wary of the fellow.
"We'd better be careful of every move," Frank cautioned. "Let's look around to see what else is for hire."
"Not me," Chet put in. "That breakfast on the plane wasn't enough. I'm going to drop in the restaurant here for a bite."
The boy disappeared into the airport cafeteria while Frank and Joe strolled off to find a charter plane. Chet had just finished two orders of pancakes when he happened to glance out the window alongside him.
91 What he saw almost made him choke. There was the man he had spoken to at the roadside in Bay-port!
"I've got to tell the Hardys!" Chet thought.
At that moment the man turned, his eyes meeting those of Chet for a split second. He did not look back.
"I don't think he recognized me," Chet told himself.
The stranger moved on, disappearing around a corner. Chet paid his check and hurried from the restaurant. It took him ten minutes to find Frank and Joe. They were talking to a young pilot standing beside a small cabin plane. Quickly he motioned Frank aside and told him about the stranger.
"That doesn't sound good." Frank frowned. "There's no doubt we've been followed."
Then he turned to the pilot. "Mr. Winger, I'd like you to meet our friend Chet Morton. He's making the flight to Crowhead with us."
Chet shook hands with the airman as Joe said, "Mr. Winger is a former Army pilot. He's taking us to Cousin Ruth's place."
"Swell," Chet beamed.
The pilot helped his pa.s.sengers pack their luggage in the plane. Then, taxiing to the end of the runway, he turned, headed into the wind and took off smoothly.
92 "These small planes are great," Joe said enthusiastically.
"Just as safe as the big airliners," Frank said confidently. Chet wished he could agree.
He was holding on tightly to the sides of his seat, gazing at the ground below.
"Take your eyes off the scenery," Frank advised, "and look at the clouds!"
Chet turned. Looking backward, he suddenly motioned to the boys excitedly.
"Hey!" he yelled. "I think a plane's following us."
The pilot turned, and agreed. He slowed his roaring motor.
"We'll let him catch up so we can take a look-see. Maybe it's a friend of mine having some fun."
"Or somebody looking for trouble," Joe said grimly.
The plane tailing the Hardys' craft also relaxed its pace, keeping in back and slightly above them.
Frank told Winger just enough of the mystery they were trying to solve to interest him in helping the boys.
"I'm sure that plane is following us for no good reason," he said.
When the pilot heard this, he asked, "Want to change about?"
"What do you mean?" Frank asked.
93 "I'll get in back of that guy and follow him," the pilot said. Then he added, "How's your stomach?"
Frank smiled and Joe answered, "Okay with us. How about you, Chet?"
The boy groaned. The pancakes felt like lead under his belt, but he nodded to go ahead.
"Get set!" the pilot shouted.
Suddenly the plane shot upward with such velocity that the boys felt as if they were being pressed into their seats by an invisible hand.
In a breath-taking swoop, the craft was upside down in a tight inside loop. Then it swooped down directly in back of the other plane!
CHAPTER XI.
The Face at the Window.
taken by surprise, the pilot in the plane ahead of the Hardy boys tried to shake off Winger's s.h.i.+p. It banked first to the right, then to the left. But the former Army man stuck to his quarry.
"Atta boy!" Joe cried gleefully, admiring the deft maneuvering of the pilot.
Chet did not say a word. His eyes stared straight ahead as if they were glued to a specter.
Finally the kibitzing plane, after zooming in vain to get away from the boys' aircraft, headed back toward El Paso. Winger followed. The pursued s.h.i.+p headed directly for the airport and descended.
Winger remained aloft for a few minutes until the tower gave him permission to land.
Just as he touched the wheels of his plane to the runway, the boys saw the other plane make a daring take-off.
"Follow him!" Joe cried.
"I can't chase him now," the pilot replied. "Against regulations to go up without checking in."
"Bet that fellow didn't," Joe said.
When Frank, Joe, and the pilot entered the administration building, they found a group of angry officials discussing the mysterious plane which had broken the rules of the field so boldly. It had come in without a signal and taken off without reporting!
Unfortunately no one had noticed its number. The plane had swooped in and out so fast that it had eluded detection.
Frank related the story of their experience. They could offer little to identify it. Neither Winger nor the boys had noticed the number of the mysterious aircraft. Maybe it had none!
The officials promised to do all they could to trace the lawbreaking pilot and his plane.
"Well, let's start all over again," Winger proposed as the three walked back to their own craft.
"I hope Chet hasn't run off." Joe grinned. "I don't think he and his pancakes liked your air circus."
But Chet was in the seat where they had left him.
"How do you feel?" Winger asked him.
Chet bobbed his head up and down, saying nothing.
A few minutes later they were in the air. Here and there dense woodlands crept into view, dotting 96 the hills and cattle country. Once in a while a picturesque ranch house came into view below.
"According to your directions, we should be headed straight for Crowhead," Winger said an hour later. "Ever been here before by air?" he asked.
"No."
"Well, if you recognize anything about the ranch, let me know."
Frank and Joe became more alert to the terrain unfolding beneath them. Presendy the plane droned over a dense woodland of ponderosa pines.
Frank, glancing from the right side of the craft, abruptly reached out and grabbed Joe's arm. At the same time he shouted: "Hey, look at that!"