"No, Chet still hasn't returned," the girl said, when Frank told her of the hawk's disappearance and their need of Chet's help in hunting for her. "I was just coming to tell you that your father is home. He's been trying to reach you on the telephone about something important. It's in connection with your new case!"

CHAPTER VI.

Indian Intrigue.

surprised to learn that his father was back so soon from Washington, Frank dashed to the Mortons' telephone and called his home.

"What's up, Dad?" he asked excitedly.

"h.e.l.lo, Frank. I've just received a message from Mr. Ghapur. He's coming here from Washington with a friend of his from India who has a strange story to tell us."

"What is it?"

"The matter was too confidential to discuss over the telephone, Frank. The men will arrive tonight. I thought you boys would want to be on hand."

"We'll be there all right," Frank promised.

Then he told Mr. Hardy about the falcon not returning to the lure. The detective suggested that his sons keep swinging the lure where they had released the bird.

Indian Intrigue 47 "She'll probably return when she's tired of flying," he added encouragingly.

Frank, however, sensed that his father felt the same concern as he-what would Mr.

Ghapur think if the falcon were not retrieved?

"We'll do our best," Frank a.s.sured him. When he rejoined his brother, he continued to swing the lure. For what seemed like an eternity the Hardys strained their eyes for a glimpse of the falcon. They had just about given up hope when suddenly Joe gripped his brother's arm.

"She's coming back!" he cried. "Look high overhead!"

Elated, both boys watched a tiny speck hurtling toward them, growing larger by the second. With a swish of wind the hawk flashed by so fast that the boys could hardly follow her flight.

"She struck at the lure!" yelled Joe.

"Hold it on the ground," said Frank.

In a long, graceful swoop the falcon came back in and struck the lure with a smack. Joe held it firmly and the hawk came to rest. He offered her the raw meat and then quickly hooded her. Both boys heaved sighs of relief.

"Guess Miss Peregrine's had enough flying for today," Frank remarked, setting the bird on his wrist.

As they approached the Morton house, Chet pulled into the driveway and invited the boys inside. The three friends consumed half a gallon of ice cream while they discussed the strange mystery 48 which the boys were trying to solve. Frank told Chet confidentially of the meeting to be held at their home that evening and of its highly secret nature.

"Maybe it's about our rubies," their stout friend suggested.

As suppertime approached, Chet drove the Hardys and their falcon home in his jalopy.

"Let me know what happens, fellows," he called, waving good-by.

Fenton Hardy was waiting for his sons when they arrived. He was delighted to see that the hawk had come back to them.

"Our callers will arrive about nine o'clock," he said.

Night had closed in at the Hardy home and they were waiting for the front-door bell to ring, when, to their surprise, a cautious knock sounded on the back door. The boys and their father hurried to the kitchen and Fenton Hardy opened the door. Two men were standing there.

"Mr. Ghapur!" the detective exclaimed.

"We thought we were being followed," the importer explained, stepping in, "but I believe we have shaken off our pursuers. Please pardon this strange way of entering your home."

Rahmud Ghapur was a dark-complexioned man, about fifty years old, with lines at his temples that indicated a normally jovial disposition. Right now, however, his expression was tempered by the seriousness of the situation. His companion, about ten years 49 younger, was introduced as Mr. Delhi, a trusted emissary and cousin of the Maharajah of Hatavab.

Ghapur added that the n.o.bleman from India had a.s.sumed the name Delhi because he wished to remain incognito while in the United States.

"And for easier p.r.o.nunciation as well," Mr. Delhi added, smiling. "My real name is Bhagnav."

Mr. Hardy shook hands and introduced his sons. "We'll go up to my study," he said, "where we can be sure that our discussion will not be overheard by possible eavesdroppers at our doors or windows."

He led the way to the second floor. After everyone was seated, Frank offered to bring the falcon to Mr. Ghapur, but the man advised against it.

"If the bird were to see me," he said, "the fine progress you have made with her might be undone."

Ghapur now turned to his companion. "Please tell your story," he requested.

The maharajah's cousin hesitated for a moment, then asked the Hardys, "Had you heard that Prince Tava was on his way to the United States in order to complete his education?"

"We learned it accidentally last night from a newspaper clipping," Frank replied.

"The prince arrived in New York all right," Mr. Delhi went on. "Then he was kidnaped!"

"Kidnaped!" chorused the Hardys, and Joe added, "When?"

"About a month ago. Ransom was demanded in rubies. We received orders to leave the gems in a 50 certain place in India. The orders were carried out and the rubies picked up. But the prince has not been released."

"You haven't heard anything since then?" Frank asked.

"Oh, yes. We have received a new ransom note which demands that more rubies be left at the designated spot. The note, like the first one, threatens the prince with death if payment is not made or if the story of his kidnaping is published,"

iMr. Delhi paused and looked thoughtfully at the floor. "I-I am afraid Tava may not even now be alive," he said somberly. "But his father has not given up hope."

Rahmud Ghapur picked up the thread of the story. "The maharajah sent Mr. Delhi to this country to see if he could track down the kidnapers. Since I am a native of the same province, he came to me for help. I suggested that we get in touch with you, Mr. Hardy. Can you and your sons look into this matter for us?"

"We'll be glad to," Fenton Hardy a.s.sured them. "In fact, my boys may have picked up a clue already."

"Yes? How so?" both visitors asked in amazement.

The boys told them of the unhanded carrier pigeon brought down by the hawk.

"The pigeon carried two rubies. They may be part of the ransom," Frank remarked.

The visitors were astounded to hear this news and 51 agreed that the rubies might very well be part of the ransom. They thought, too, that the missing prince might be held at the place from which the pigeon had been released or at its home cote.

"More likely it's the latter," Mr. Hardy said. "We'll do our best to find the spot."

Mr. Ghapur leaned forward in his chair and said in a tense whisper, "Nothing must happen to the prince. He is like one of my own family. When he was just a small child, I was the guest of the mahara-jah for some hawk hunting and other sports." Turning to Mr. Delhi, he asked, "Do you remember the cheetah hunt?"

"I certainly do," Mr. Delhi recalled, "and the ma-harajah will never forget how you saved the prince's life, at peril of your own, when the boy was attacked by the cheetah."

"It was a great honor," Ghapur said quietly. He turned back to Fenton Hardy and concluded, "I guess we've finished our mission here, and successfully. Mr. Delhi will return with me to my home in Washington. Our enemies must not know where he is, so we will leave the way we came. We are deeply grateful to you all."

"We'll try to justify your grat.i.tude," Fenton Hardy promised.

Mr. Delhi asked that they spare no expense in tracking down every possible clue.

When he and Rahmud Ghapur had left, as secretly as they had come, Mr. Hardy said to his sons, "I be52 lieve there's definitely a connection between the kidnapers of the prince, the rubies on the pigeon, and the smugglers of aliens from India. You boys made a start checking the coast line for clues. You might follow up on that, as well as trying to locate the carrier pigeon's cote while I'm away. I'm due back in Washington tomorrow."

"We'll keep after the water-front angle," Frank a.s.sured him. "And we're going to do some sleuthing from the air, too, in order to track down the pigeon's owner."

The family was up early the next morning so that Fenton Hardy could catch the first plane to Washington. While the boys were feeding and watering the falcon, their mother brought them two hundred dollars in cash and asked that they deposit it in the bank before two o'clock. They drove their father to the airport, then hunted up their friend George Simons, who owned a helicopter.

"No pa.s.sengers ahead of us today, I hope," said Frank.

"You're the first. Climb in. What are you fellows chasing this time?" the pilot asked with a smile.

"Carrier pigeons and their home cotes," Frank told him. "We'll try to follow the direction a certain one took."

First they flew to the end of the bay and from there headed in the southwesterly direction which the two suspicious pigeons had followed. The pilot kept his helicopter moving along at a low speed 53 while Frank scanned the land below, searching for likely spots.

Meanwhile, Joe was watching the horizon behind them for any slow-moving ship or small boat that might be plying between some steamer and the sh.o.r.e. He saw none but suddenly cried out: "Here comes a pigeon northeast of us!"

Simons held the helicopter stationary until the bird had come alongside and moved ahead of his craft. Then he trailed it. For about eight miles the pilot kept the pigeon in sight without difficulty, while Frank plotted its course on a map he had brought. Then, suddenly, the bird made a dive for a spa.r.s.e woods.

At once Simons stopped his forward flight and lowered the helicopter to get a better look. But something seemed to be wrong-the craft was losing alt.i.tude much too fast!

There was a screeching, sc.r.a.ping sound as branches and leaves lashed at the undercarriage of the helicopter. Desperately Simons fought to pull up his craft. At last he succeeded and they whirred up into the blue sky.

"Whew! That was close!" Joe exclaimed.

Simons grinned weakly and said, "I thought we were goners! Our motor nearly quit."

"Think we'd better go back to the airport?" Frank asked.

"Yes. No telling what this old windmill may do next."

54 On their homeward course, the boys again carefully scrutinized the area. There was no sign of a house or barn with a cote in evidence. The brothers were puzzled about the pigeon and its destination, but finally concluded that it must have been a wild bird and had just happened to take the southwesterly route.

At the airport, as the boys climbed into their convertible, Joe asked, "Where do we go from here?"

"We ought to go to the bank," his brother replied, starting the motor, "but let's scout around the water front first for the heavy-set, sun-tanned man wearing a ruby ring."

Joe nodded. "How about our looking for that suspicious sailor on the Daisy Kf Daisy Kf If he's the If he's the fellow, he may be wearing the ring now."

Parking their car a block from the sh.o.r.e line, the boys walked briskly to the dock area, where fishing boats, excursion steamers, deep-sea charter cruisers, and pleasure craft tied up. As the two headed for the Daisy K, Daisy K, Joe suddenly gripped Frank's arm and pointed Joe suddenly gripped Frank's arm and pointed toward an outdoor food stand.

"Look at the ring that fellow on the second stool is wearing," he whispered excitedly.

A stocky, dark-skinned sailor, who might well have been from India, sat there eating. As the man lifted a fork, Joe saw the sun sparkle on a ruby ring-the same unusual ring the falcon s.n.a.t.c.her had been wearing!

Frank and Joe moved in on either side of him and They trailed the suspicious pigeon.

56 took seats. At once Frank whispered to the sailor, "Just what did you want with our falcon?"

The man looked up, startled. "Falcon? You've mistaken me for someone else," he mumbled and backed off the stool.

Joe gripped him by the shoulder and retorted, "If you won't tell us, you can explain it to the police."

"The police? Say, what's going on? I don't know anything about a falcon. I swear it!" The sailor's voice grew loud and he shook off Joe's hand.

"Where did you get that ruby ring?" Frank broke in, stepping in front of the suspect.

This question brought a curious reaction. Apparently the man thought the boys intended to steal it, for he yelled, "Oh, no, you don't!" and plunged headlong at Frank, trying to shove past him.

Frank thrust a leg in front of the sailor, who tripped over it and fell. Instantly Joe came down on the sailor's back with a thud, pinning him to the ground.

"Now maybe we'll get an answer, Frank," he said.

CHAPTER VII.

A Big b.o.n.e.r.

an interested group of bystanders had gathered around the Hardy boys and the sailor.

"All right, talk!" Frank ordered, dragging the man to his feet.

The heavy-set, dark-skinned sailor straightened up. Glaring at the brothers, he asked, "What do you want to know about my ruby ring?"

"Where did you get it?" Joe repeated.

"Well, I didn't steal it, if that's what you think," the man said sullenly. "I bought it from another sailor just last night. I got a good bargain, and figured it was worth the investment."