The Mark on the Door by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online

night?” Chet grumbled. “I want something to eat!”
    â€œWhen it is very dark,” Tico said, “perhaps we can sneak away without being seen.”
    Frank now appeared less anxious to make an immediate getaway. “I’d like to stick around a little while longer and see what those two guys are up to,” he announced. “We might learn something interesting.”
    Another hour had passed when a muffled, rumbling sound drifted in from the sea just beyond the cove.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Chet asked, craning his neck to look out.
    â€œSounds like engines,” Joe said. “Get down, Chet!”
    Suddenly a point of light began flashing from the position where the men were sitting.
    â€œThey’re signaling someone!” Frank observed.
    Carefully they turned to look out into the cove. A flashing light pierced the darkness in response.
    Gradually the rumbling became louder. Chet’s eyes popped and Joe gasped as the faint outline of a submarine slowly approached the cove!

CHAPTER VII
    Night Rendezvous
    THE BOYS gazed fascinated as the submarine drew closer to the shore.
    â€œIt’s hard to believe,” Frank whispered excitedly, “but there it isl”
    â€œLeaping lizards!” Chet gasped.
    â€œSo that’s what those two bandits were waiting for,” said Joe.
    All at once there was a burst of activity on the deck. Flashlights, carried by members of the crew as they scurried about, looked like a swarm of agitated fireflies.
    â€œPronto! Pronto!” a crewman barked. Then came an incoherent mumbling of many voices.
    Beams of light were directed at the big boulder which Frank and Joe were about to examine when the two armed men had fired at them.
    â€œCome on! Push this thing aside!” shouted a crewman in English. “Hurry it up!”
    Four husky fellows shoved the rock to one side. Behind it was a large cavity in the incline. Despite their distance from the hole, the boys could clearly see stacks of wooden boxes in the hiding place.
    â€œThe cove is a rendezvous for picking up some sort of supplies,” Joe said.
    Frank remarked that it was too dark to see whether the strange symbol was painted on the conning tower, but Joe had an answer for that.
    â€œI’ll sneak down to the cove for a closer look.”
    â€œI’ll go with you,” Chet offered.
    â€œNo, it’s better if only one of us goes.”
    Joe slowly worked his way down through the crevice, then quietly stole along the craggy shore toward the submarine. Crawling on hands and knees, he made his way to a jumble of rocks near the water’s edge. Joe crouched down and peered over the damp rocks.
    â€œKeep movin‘. Get that stuff aboard!” ordered a bearded, heavy-set man wearing a battered visor cap. It was obvious to Joe that he was not a Mexican. Neither were most of the other crewmen, who carried the wooden boxes to the sub.
    Then one of the riflemen approached the bearded man. “Qué tal van las cosas —” the Mexican was saying.
    â€œTalk English!” the other snapped. “You know I can’t speak much Spanish.”
    â€œSentirlo —sorry. I do as you wish, senor.”
    Loud enough for Joe to hear, the Mexican told of spotting the boys in the cove. “But we scare ‘em off. We have no trouble.”
    â€œThat’s what you think!” Joe told himself.
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” the bearded man went on. “We’ve got all the supplies we need and won’t be comin’ back here any more.”
    â€œWhat about me and my amigo?” the Mexican inquired.
    â€œThe boss needs more men back at headquarters. He said you and your friend were to go back with us. We’d better get goin’ cause the trip takes about twelve hours.”
    The crewmen hurried to load all the boxes aboard. The beam of one flashlight swept across the conning tower and Joe squinted intently to get a