The House on the Cliff (10 page)

“Yes,” Joe agreed, “and from the distance we've come I'd figure that we're right underneath the house on the cliff.”

“Let's go up.”

The light cast strange shadows in the passage through the rocks. Water dripped from the walls. The boys tiptoed forward and stealthily began the ascent.

As they crept up the stairs, Frank flashed the light ahead of them. Shortly they could see that the steps ended at a heavy door. Its framework was set into the wall of rock. Above them was only a rocky ceiling.

When Frank and Joe reached the door, they hesitated. Both were thinking, “If we go through that door and find the gang of smugglers, we'll never get out. But, on the other hand, we must find Dad!”

Frank stepped forward, pressed his ear against the door, and listened intently. There was not a sound beyond.

He turned off his light and looked carefully around the sides of the door to see if he could catch a glimmer of any illumination from the other side. There was only darkness.

“I guess there's no one inside,” he said to Joe. “Let's see if we can open it.”

Frank felt for the latch. The door did not move. “It must be locked,” he whispered.

“Try it again. Maybe it's just stuck.”

Frank put his hand on the latch, this time also pushing the door with his shoulder. Suddenly, with a noise which echoed from wall to wall, the latch snapped and the door swung open.

Joe stepped forward, but Frank put out a restraining hand. “Wait!” he cautioned. “That noise may bring someone.”

Tensely, they stood alert for the slightest sound. But none came. Hopeful that there was no one in the area beyond, Frank switched on the flashlight.

The vivid beam cut the darkness and revealed a gloomy cave hewn out of the rock in the very center of the cliff. The boys wondered if it had been a natural cave. It was filled with boxes, bales, and packages distributed about the floor and piled against the walls.

“Smuggled goods!” Frank and Joe thought.

The fact that the majority of the boxes bore labels of foreign countries seemed to verify their suspicions.

Convinced that the cave was unoccupied, the boys stepped through the doorway and looked about for another door or opening. They saw none. Was this the end of the trail?

“But it couldn't be,” the young sleuths thought. “Those men went
some
place.”

Bolts of beautiful silk had been tossed on top of some of the bales. Valuable tapestries were also lying carelessly around. In one corner four boxes were piled on top of one another. Frank accidentally knocked the flashlight against one of these and it gave forth a hollow sound.

“It's empty,” he whispered.

An idea struck him that perhaps these boxes had been piled up to conceal some passage leading out of the secret storeroom. He mentioned his suspicion to Joe.

“But how could the men pile the boxes up there after they went out?” his brother questioned.

“This gang is smart enough for anything. Let's move these boxes away and maybe we'll find out.”

Frank seized the topmost box. It was very light and he removed it from the pile without difficulty.

“I thought so!” Frank said with satisfaction. The flashlight had revealed the top of a door which had been hidden from view.

The boys lost no time in moving the other three boxes. Then Frank and Joe discovered how it was possible for the boxes to be piled up in such a position, in spite of the fact that the smugglers had left the cave and closed the door behind them.

Attached to the bottom of the door was a thin wooden platform that projected out over the floor of the cave and on this the boxes had been piled.

“Very clever,” Joe remarked. “Whenever any one leaves the cave and closes the door, the boxes swing in with the platform and it looks as though they were piled up on the floor.”

“Right. Well, let's see where the door leads,” Frank proposed.

He snapped off his light and with utmost caution opened the door. It made no sound. Again there was darkness ahead.

“What a maze!” Frank whispered as he turned on his flash and beamed the light ahead.

Another stone-lined passage with a flight of steps at the end!

Suddenly Frank stiffened and laid a warning hand on his brother's arm. “Voices!” he said in a low tone and snapped off his light.

The boys listened intently. They could hear a man's voice in the distance. Neither could distinguish what he was saying, for he was still too far away, but gradually the tones grew louder. Then, to the brothers' alarm, they heard footsteps. Hastily they retreated into the secret cave.

“Quick! The door!” Frank urged.

They closed it quietly.

“Now the boxes. If those men come in here they'll notice that the boxes have been moved!” He turned on the light but shielded it with his hand.

Swiftly Joe piled the empty boxes back onto the platform that projected from the bottom of the door. He worked as silently and quickly as possible, but could hear the footsteps drawing closer and closer.

Finally the topmost box was in place.

“Out the other door!” Frank hissed into Joe's ear.

They sped across the floor of the cave toward the door opening onto the stairs they had recently ascended. But hardly had they reached it before they heard a rattle at the latch of the door on the opposite side of the cave.

“We haven't time,” Frank whispered. “Hide!”

The beam of the flashlight revealed a number of boxes close to the door. On top of these someone had thrown a heavy bolt of silk, the folds of which hung down to the floor. The brothers scrambled swiftly behind the boxes, pressing themselves close against the wall. They had just enough time to hide and switch out Frank's light before they heard the other door open.

“There's a bunch of drugs in that shipment that came in three weeks ago,” they heard a husky voice say. “We'll take it upstairs. Burke says he can get rid of it for us right away. No use leaving it down here. Got to make room for the new shipment.”

“Right,” the Hardys heard someone else reply. “Anything else to go up?”

“No. I'll switch on the light.”

There was a click, and suddenly the cave was flooded with light. It had been wired for electricity.

Frank and Joe crouched in their hiding place, holding their breaths in terror. Would they be discovered?

Footsteps slowly approached the boxes behind which they were concealed!

FRANK AND JOE tried to crowd themselves into the smallest space possible as the men came nearer to their hiding place. The electric light bulb hanging from the center of the ceiling cast such a strong illumination over the cave that the boys felt certain they would be discovered.

The boxes were placed a small distance apart, and only the fact that folds of silk hung down over the open spaces between the boxes prevented the boys from being seen immediately. However, through a crack in one of the crates, the Hardys could just make out two husky-looking figures.

“Here's some o' that Japanese silk,” the boys heard one of the men say. “I'd better take a bolt of that up too. Burke said he could place some more of it.”

Instantly the same thought ran through both the brothers' minds. If the man picked up the silk, they would surely be found!

“Don't be crazy!” the other man objected. “You know you won't get any credit for pushin' a sale. Why break your arm luggin' all that stuff upstairs?”

“Well,” the first man explained in a whining tone, “I thought maybe we could get rid of some more of this swag and make ourselves a little extra dough.”

“Naw,” his companion snarled. “I can tell you ain't been with this gang long. You never get any thanks around here for thinkin'. If Burke don't take the extra stuff, the boss'll make you bring it all the way down again.”

“Maybe you're right.”

“Sure I'm right! My idea for the rest of us in this gang is to do just what Snattman tells us to and no more.”

“You got somethin' there, Bud. Okay. We'll just take up the package of drugs and leave the rest.”

To the boys' relief the men turned away and went over to the other side of the room. Frank and Joe did not dare peer out, but they could hear the sound of boxes being shifted.

Then came the words, “All set. I've got the packages. Let's go!”

The switch was snapped and the cave was plunged into darkness. The Hardys began to breathe normally again. The door to the corridor closed and faintly the boys could detect the men's footsteps as they ascended the stairs at the end of it.

When they had died away completely, Frank switched on the flashlight. “Wow!” he said, giving a tremendous sigh of relief. “That was a close call! I sure thought they had us.”

“Me too,” Joe agreed. “We wouldn't have had a chance with that pair. Looked like a couple of wrestlers.”

“Do we dare follow them?”

“You bet. I'd say we've solved the smuggling mystery, but we've still got to find out if they're holding Dad,” Joe said grimly.

“We'll have to watch our step even more carefully. We don't want to walk right into the whole ring of smugglers,” Frank reminded him.

“Right. I don't crave anything worse than what we've just gone through,” said Joe. “I thought I'd die of suspense while that pair was in here.”

They crossed the room, opened the door, and started up the dark passageway. Presently they were confronted by the flight of steps. Part way up there was a landing, then more steps with a door at the top.

“I'll go first,” Frank offered. “Stick close behind me. I think I'll keep the flash off.”

“That's right,” Joe agreed. “Snattman might have a guard at the top and there's no use advertising our presence.”

Step by step, the boys crept upward in the inky blackness. Then they found themselves on a crude landing of planks. Carefully they felt their way along the side of the rock wall until they reached the next flight of steps.

Here the brothers stopped again to listen. Silence.

“So far, so good,” Frank whispered. “But somehow I don't like this whole thing. I have a feeling we're walking into a trap.”

“We can't quit now,” Joe answered. “But I admit I'm scared.”

Still groping in the dark, the boys climbed up and up until they were nearly winded.

“Where are we?” Joe panted. “I feel as if I've been climbing stairs for an hour!”

“Me too,” Frank agreed. “The cliff doesn't look this high from the outside.”

They rested a minute, then continued their journey. Groping around, they finally reached another door. Frank hunted for the door handle. Finding it, he turned the knob ever so slightly to find out if the door was locked.

“I can open it,” Frank said in Joe's ear, “but we'd better wait a few minutes.”

“Every second is vital if Dad's a prisoner,” Joe objected.

Frank was about to accede to his brother's urging when both boys heard footsteps on the other side of the door. A chill ran down their spines.

“Shall we run?” Joe said fearfully.

“It wouldn't do us any good. Listen!”

There came a queer shuffling sound and a sigh from somewhere beyond the door. That was all.

“Someone's in there,” Frank breathed. Joe nodded in the darkness.

The boys did not know what to do. The gang might have posted a sentry. If there was only one, the Hardys might be able to jump the man and disarm him. However, they probably could not do it without making some noise and attracting the attention of the rest of the smugglers.

Frank and Joe gritted their teeth. They couldn't give up now!

As they were trying to decide how to proceed, the situation took an unexpected turn. A door slammed in the distance. Then came the murmur of voices and the sound of advancing footsteps.

“This nonsense has gone far enough,” a man said angrily. “He'll write that note at once, or I'll know the reason why.”

The boys started. The voice was that of the man who had ordered them to leave the pond during the afternoon.

“That's right, chief!” another voice spoke up. “Make him do as you say and get the heat off us until we've got all the loot moved.”

“If he doesn't write it, he'll never get out of here alive,” the first man promised coldly.

Instantly Frank and Joe thought of the note their mother had received. Was the man these smugglers were talking about their father? Or was he someone else—maybe Jones, who was to be forced to obey them or perhaps lose his life?

The speakers went a short distance beyond the door behind which Frank and Joe were standing. Then they heard the click of a switch. A faint beam of yellow light shone beneath the door. The brothers figured there was a corridor beyond and three or four men had entered a room opening from it.

“Well, I see you're still here,” said the man who had been addressed as chief. “You'll find this an easier place to get into than out of.”

A weary voice answered him. The tones were low, so the boys pressed closer to the door. But try as they might, they could not distinguish the words.

“You're a prisoner here and you'll stay here until you die unless you write that note.”

Again the weary voice spoke, but the tones were still so indistinct that the boys could not hear the answer.

“You won't write it, eh? We'll see what we can do to persuade you.”