The Mystery of Cabin Island by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online

stinging his face to a raw numbness.
    As Frank plodded on through the dusk, he stopped to listen as each new sound caught his ear. Once he was sure he had heard someone cough and hurried in its direction. Nobody was in sight. But just then, an owl flew past, and Frank jumped back startled.
    â€œI’m getting as jittery as Chet,” Frank berated himself. He squared his shoulders and went on, beaming his light.
    Half an hour later the two searchers met at the boathouse. “Any luck, Biff?”
    â€œNone, Frank. Cabin Island evidently has visitors only in the daytime. How about you?”
    â€œI didn’t find a clue, but I—” Frank stopped speaking as an object on the ground caught his attention. He bent over to pick it up.
    â€œWow!” said Biff. “A model of an iceboat.”
    â€œAnd expertly carved,” Frank remarked, examining the intricately made model.
    â€œDo you think Tad or Ike or Hanleigh lost this?” Biff asked. “Or could it belong to Mr. Jefferson?”
    Frank examined the little boat, then declared, “It probably belongs to some very recent visitor to the island. The wood doesn’t look as though it has been exposed to the elements very long. In fact, it seems to be newly carved.”
    â€œAnyway, it’s a beauty,” Biff commented. “Why don’t you take it along and put in on the cabin mantel?”
    It was fully dark by the time Frank and Biff reached the cabin and reported that they had found no one on the island.
    â€œWell, I’m willing to forget the ghost, now that we’re about to eat,” Chet called from the kitchen.
    â€œHow long before chow’s ready?” Frank asked. “The wind has started to blow pretty hard. I’d like to take the Sea Gull around to the boathouse.”
    â€œYou have time,” Chet replied. “But hurry.”
    Frank showed Joe and Chet the iceboat model, then set it on the mantel before stepping outside and hurrying to the shore. Quickly he jumped into the iceboat and trimmed the sail. The instant the brake was released, the craft glided off like a phantom and in a short time Frank reached the boathouse. It was unlocked and empty. The boy stored the boat inside, then tramped back to the cabin.
    There he found Joe and Biff staring at the massive stone chimney. “We’re trying to figure out what interested Hanleigh,” Joe remarked.
    â€œBeats me,” Biff added.
    Chet interrupted from the kitchen. “Chow time!” he called, and ushered his buddies to the table on which stood bowls of steaming beef stew. There was plenty of milk and a big basket of warm, crusty bread.
    â€œDelicious!” exclaimed Biff after tasting the stew. “I’ll bet that ghost was just hungry and hoping for an invitation!”
    â€œIt’s an old family recipe,” Chet boasted.
    â€œYou mean an old family can opener?” Joe rejoined. “I saw all those cans you brought!”
    â€œI had to add special spices, though, and salt and pepper,” Chet said defensively. “That’s what makes it taste so good.”
    When the meal was finished, Biff was elected dishwasher. “Scrub hard and you’ll develop your boxing biceps,” Chet teased. Frank volunteered to help, and soon the kitchen was in order.
    The wind was howling louder now, but the interior of the cabin was snug. The boys sat in front of the briskly burning logs in the fireplace and listened to the creaking of low branches against the cabin.
    â€œI wish we could learn what Hanleigh hopes to gain by coming to this place,” Joe mused, “or by purchasing it.”
    â€œOne thing I’m convinced of,” said Frank. “He wasn’t studying the fireplace just for its artistic look.”
    â€œHe’s certainly nervy with other people’s property,” Biff remarked.
    Frank nodded. “I keep wondering if it was he who ransacked the Jefferson