The Clue of the Hissing Serpent by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online Page B

club, where the gear was stowed away.
    â€œSo long, everybody,” Joe said as he and Frank went to their car.
    â€œI’m going to your house first,” Chet said. “I want to be in on the rap session with your dad.”
    â€œYou ought to go home and hit the sack,” Joe advised. “You’ve had quite a day.”
    â€œNo, really, I feel fine now. I’ll phone my folks so they won’t worry.”
    Chet followed the Hardys to their house. When the two cars pulled into the driveway, Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude ran out to meet them.
    â€œYou had us worried to death!” Mrs. Hardy said. “We heard a radio report that several bal loonists had an aerial war!”
    â€œYou were in it—yes you were!” Aunt Gertrude stared at them piercingly, then shook a skinny finger. “Now tell us all about it!”
    â€œI guess the State Police released the news,” Frank said and reported what happened. “Where’s Dad?” he added.
    â€œOut looking for you,” Laura Hardy replied.
    â€œDid he talk to Sam over the radio before he left?”
    â€œYes. It seems Sam had some success in his surveillance.”
    â€œLet’s get in touch with him right away,” Joe said.
    They used the set in their car and called Radley. There was no reply. They tried again. Nothing!
    â€œEither his set’s out of order or something’s happened,” Frank declared.
    Chet, meanwhile, had wandered into the house looking for food. Aunt Gertrude, who had anticipated their need for sustenance, had ham sandwiches ready for them. Chet phoned home, then called out, “Come on, fellows. Let’s eat!”
    â€œForget it,” Joe replied. “Something might be wrong at our surveillance post. We’re going over there right away.”
    â€œWait for me!” Chet grabbed a fistful of sandwiches and wriggled into the back seat.
    The three boys ate on the way. When they reached the street behind the old building, Frank turned off the lights and they crept cautiously toward the alley leading to the back entrance.
    Armed with flashlights, which they used only sparingly, they ascended the crooked, creaking stairs. The rotting rooms smelled damp and unpleasant. All was quiet.
    On the third floor Frank’s light flashed into the room where Radley was stationed.
    The boys gasped. Sam lay unconscious on the floor, a deep gash on the side of his head.
    Chet said, “I think he’s dead!”
    â€œHe’s breathing,” Frank assured his pal. As the Hardys administered first aid, Frank noticed that blood had congealed around the wound.
    â€œJoe, this must have happened a while ago,” he said and ripped off a shirttail. He tore it into strips and fashioned a bandage. As he applied it, Radley moaned and his eyelids fluttered.
    â€œHe’s coming to,” Joe said.
    They helped the man gingerly to his feet and Frank said, “Chet, grab my flashlight and round up the equipment while we take Sam to the car.”
    â€œWill you be back?”
    â€œSure. You can’t carry it all yourself.”
    Chet listened to their creaky footsteps fade away on the stairs. Then he shone the light around the room looking for the cameras.
    â€œHoly crow!” he murmured. “I can’t see them anywhere. They’ve probably been stolen.”
    He got down on his hands and knees and felt about the wooden floor until he came to an old door. It had been broken down and lay propped against the wall in one corner. Chet lifted it. Underneath was the still camera, its long lens sticking out like a telescope!
    â€œSam must have had enough time to hide it,” he thought as he picked it up. Then he froze. Were those voices drifting up from below?
    He did not move a muscle, hardly daring to breathe. Now he could hear voices distinctly. They were not Frank’s and Joe’s. There were quiet whispers, interspersed with oaths!
    Then everything was