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

home.”
    â€œAgain, the question is why?” Joe said.
    â€œI’d think you guys would be more worried about that ghost I saw pussyfooting around here,” Chet spoke up plaintively.
    â€œWhat’s more important,” said Frank, “is that we don’t forget the mystery we’re supposed to solve, to find Johnny Jefferson. Joe and I believe he’s hiding in this area.”
    Joe added, “I’ve a hunch this mystery will be solved near Bayport. Johnny is bound to run out of money, and if he looks for a job, somebody will become suspicious because he’s so young.”
    â€œBesides,” Frank said, “if we stick to our theory that Johnny is searching for the stolen medals, we can be pretty sure he hasn’t given up. Not if he’s as keen on sleuthing as his grandfather says he is. As far as we know, no one has located Mr. Jefferson’s collection or the servant suspected of stealing it.”
    Biff looked puzzled. “I’m glad we’re going to stay. But what’s this talk about stolen medals and a suspected servant? You’ve been holding out on us.”
    â€œYes, explain!” Chet gave the Hardys a sideways look. “I have a feeling that once again you two have taken me along to a double-header mystery!”
    The brothers related the story of the missing rosewood box and the priceless collection of honorary medals. As Joe told of the suspect, and of Johnny Jefferson’s desire to be a detective, the storm suddenly grew in violence. Snow hissed against the windows and the sashes rattled ominously.
    Then, in the distance, the boys heard a muffled crash.
    â€œA big tree must have gone down!” Joe exclaimed.
    Frank looked at the fire. “Let’s each bring in an armload of logs before we go to bed. This is going to be a long, cold night.”
    The four donned their parkas and took flashlights. Pushing hard, they managed to open the back door and hurried to the woodshed. Abruptly the boys stopped and listened intently. Through the darkness and the wind-driven sleet and snow came a faint cry.
    â€œHelp!”

CHAPTER VIII
    The Mysterious Messenger
    STARTLED, the boys stood motionless in the swirling snow, scarcely able to believe that someone was crying for help on that dark, ice-locked island.
    Then the faint sound came again above the tearing wind. “Help!”
    â€œWhere’s it coming from?” Biff asked anxiously.
    â€œHard to tell,” Frank replied. “Let’s fan out and make a search. Hurry!”
    Each boy started off in a different direction. When the pleading cry was repeated, Joe shouted as loudly as he could, “Fellows! This way! Down by the shore!”
    He kept following the call for help, trudging through the blowing snow which stung his face. The flashlight’s beam did not penetrate the dense whiteness, and Joe could barely see a step ahead. Frequently he tripped over roots and nearly went sprawling.
    Joe was becoming uncertain of his direction. Perhaps his ears had played tricks on him!
    The young sleuth stood still until he heard the desperate voice again. “Help!”
    â€œThis way!” shouted Joe, moving forward, certain that the cries were coming from somewhere near the boathouse.
    Who could the person be? What was he doing on Cabin Island? How could anyone have crossed the ice in the violent storm? Joe beamed his light about in hopes that the other boys would find him.
    All at once he realized that the surface had become level and slippery beneath his feet. “I must have stepped onto the ice,” Joe thought, and made his way back to land. Where was the stricken person? He must be close by!
    A groan came suddenly from Joe’s left. Moving the flashlight in a slow arc, he called out, “Hello? Where are you?”
    There was another moan, which trailed off weakly. As the youth moved toward the sound, his foot struck something soft. Joe dropped to his knees