Joe opened the small pouch and saw that it contained several reddish-brown nuts. He had never seen any like them and concluded they might furnish a good clue to the ident.i.ty of the boys' a.s.sailant.

69 Right now, Joe faced a dilemma. Should he go for help and leave Frank and Chet? But he discarded the idea at once. Their enemy might return. He must get both boys away as soon as possible!

"Suppose you rest for a few minutes, Frank," he suggested. "Then we'll take off."

Frank closed his eyes but opened them ten minutes later, declaring he felt much better.

Joe was seated beside him, gazing at the pouch.

"It's possible that we're close to the smugglers' hide-out, Frank," he remarked. "I'd say they might even own that goshawk, as well as carrier pigeons."

A few minutes later Frank said that he felt strong enough to start back. Joe helped him up, and the brothers moved off slowly toward the spot where Chet waited. Shadows were creeping among the trees, and the sun was low on the horizon. Because of the dusk and the condition of the two boys, further sleuthing was out of the question for the time being.

"But we'll pick up the trail first thing in the morning," Frank said with determination.

As they walked on, the boys discussed their experiences of the afternoon.

"Those warning signs weren't kidding," Frank said, rubbing his head gingerly. "This is is a a dangerous area."

"I have a hunch," Joe said, "that the pouch may be an important clue."

When they reached the spot where Joe had left Chet, the Hardys did not see him.

70 "I hope he wasn't hit over the head again," Frank said, worried.

Joe was concerned too, but he also recalled Chet's prodigious appet.i.te and said, "Maybe Chet's stomach began to bother him more than his head, and he decided to go back to the picnic."

"No such thing," came a voice so close to them that the Hardys jumped.

The next instant, Chet's perspiring head and face emerged from his splotched dark-green shirt, which blended well with the leaves and twigs of the underbrush. The stout boy got up from his hiding place, grinning.

"Well, for Pete's sake!" Joe exclaimed. "You trying to play the hooded hawk?"

"I sure was! I need as much protection as your old bird," Chet replied, putting the shirt back on.

Frank and Joe roared with laughter.

"You needn't laugh!" Chet said seriously. "Those guys may still be around!"

CHAPTER IX.

Hypnotic Music.

As the laughter subsided, Chet explained to Frank and Joe that he had felt too weak to fight anyone, even with the clublike stick Joe had given him. When he thought someone was coming, he had ducked into the bushes and put the shirt over hi? head as camouflage.

"But I guess it was my imagination," he said. "Haven't heard a thing since. Let's go!"

The boys made their way back to the trail and headed for the Morton farm. All the young guests had left except Gallic. She and lola were seated with Mr. and Mrs. Morton near the falcon's perch, keeping a close watch on the valuable bird.

At sight of Chet and Frank, the whole group ran forward. Mr. Morton asked, "What happened?"

"Got banged up a bit," Chet replied. "But there's nothing wrong with us that something to eat and a night's sleep won't cure."

"You bet," Frank spoke up, also trying to make light of their ordeal. "Anything left from the fish fry?"

"We've been saving some for you," lola said. "Come and get it!"

While they were eating, the boys told the others of their strange experiences in the woods. Chet's father said that he would try to find out if Mr. Smith had posted the warning signs and why.

"Tomorrow we'll go back and investigate the place, anyway," Joe declared.

The Mortons and Gallic begged the boys to be on their guard and they promised to do so. After breakfast the following day, a cold, dreary one for August, Frank declared he felt much better. He proposed that they take Ahmed along on their exploration.

"If we do come upon a group of Indians, his knowledge of the language and customs will come in mighty handy."

"You're right," Joe agreed. "I'll phone him while you get the car."

Ahmed, amazed to hear about the previous day's incident with the goshawk and the attacks on the boys, readily agreed to go. The boys asked Mrs. Hardy to keep an eye on the falcon, then set off in the convertible to pick up Ahmed at his bungalow. The rug dealer was hardly seated when he said tensely: "If you have really found the hide-out of these despicable smugglers and can bring them to justice, 73 India will never be able to repay you for stopping this vicious traffic involving her countrymen."

Remembering the small pouch he had found in the woods, Frank pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to Ahmed. "I picked this up in the woods yesterday. Do you think it might be a clue?"

Ahmed's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the bag and its contents. Then he said cryptically, "I believe we are indeed approaching the end of the search. These are betel nuts. Only lower-caste Indians chew them." Ahmed turned to Frank. "The person who attacked you and your friend may be one of the smuggled men or a servant to an Indian of wealth."

The Hardys looked at each other. The kidnaped prince, perhaps? He was indeed one of great wealth. They wondered whether or not to tell Ahmed the secret of Prince Tava's disappearance but decided not to do so unless it became necessary. "At least we should ask Mr. Delhi's permission first," they reflected.

A short time later Frank turned the car into the Morton lane and Chet joined them at the barn. Immediately the foursome set out for the woods on foot, taking a different route to the trampled trail they had followed the previous day. But just before they reached it, a new obstacle presented itself-a long, impenetrable wall of vines and branches.

"This will be tougher to get past than those danger signs we ran into yesterday," Frank remarked.

Ahmed paused and studied the barrier carefully.

74 "These vines and branches," he said, "are not growing here. They have been woven together by master craftsmen. Whoever had this constructed is indeed anxious to keep out strangers."

"I've never seen anything like it," remarked Frank. "Have you, Ahmed?"

"Yes, some of our hunters in India are clever vine craftsmen," he explained. "You have heard tales of the beaters who go out to stir up the tiger and the wild boar. They often use this weaving technique to make sure that the animals will not escape while the maharajah is moving in with his elephant, or the pigsticker with his lance."

"Looks as though we should have brought along a machete to cut through here," Frank remarked.

Ahmed and the three boys picked up stout pieces of fallen tree limbs and started to beat their way through. Now and then they stopped to listen for sounds that might indicate trouble. But apparently they were alone in the woods.

Presently a disturbing thought came to Frank. "It looks," he said, "as though we may have frightened our attackers away from the woods permanently."

Joe nodded but made no comment. Finally the searchers broke through the thick mesh of vines. Joe spotted a fairly well-marked trail and went ahead, but suddenly darted back.

"Hold it! A snake! I almost stepped on him. Say, I've never seen one like this. Wonder if it's dangerous?"

75 Ahmed stepped forward. "Careful!" he ordered. "It's a krait krait and extremely poisonous." and extremely poisonous."

The Hardys and Chet stared at the reptile in fascination. Between four and five feet long, it had smooth l.u.s.trous scales. The snake was dark brown in color and had pale crossbands, with occasional vivid yellow rings. Its head was small, and it was difficult to tell where head ended and body began.

"If the snake's poisonous, let's kill it," Chet suggested, looking for a stone.

"No, no," Ahmed said quickly. "It's a reptile of great value. We must trap the snake and present it to the Bay-port Zoo."

"But how?" Chet queried.

Ahmed smiled. "You boys quickly construct a cage of twigs and vines," he said. "In the meantime, I'll try to charm the snake."

The man reached into the folds of his garments. To the boys' amazement, Ahmed drew out a reed pipe which he said he always carried with him.

"I usually play this for pleasure," he said. "Now it will be put to serious use."

Ahmed placed the pipe to his lips and began playing an eerie, hypnotic song. The snake reacted at once, although sluggishly at first. The boys were so intrigued by the rhythmic rising and falling notes that the music almost had them moving in time with the swaying motions of the krait.

But Frank and Joe quickly gathered twigs and branches, while Chet went for some of the vines 76 which their enemies had used in the blockade. While they wove the materials into a st.u.r.dy, almost solid cage, and made a crude door, Ahmed kept the krait captivated.

When the cage was ready, Frank edged it slowly toward the krait. With the notes of his piping, Ahmed guided the reptile into the opening. Frank closed the door and carefully fastened it with a wooden peg and vine lashing. The three boys heaved sighs of relief and Ahmed put away his pipe.

"Good work, young men," he praised them.

"But the hardest part was yours," Chet said. "I think I'll try playing a reed."

"Hey! Who do you want to charm?" Joe asked, grinning. Then he became serious.

"What shall we do with the snake while we're hunting for those smugglers?"

"Speaking of smugglers," said Chet, "do you think those guys put the snake here to poison us?"

"That is not impossible, of course," Ahmed replied. "More likely the krait escaped from a cage. Its owner would be too fearful of being bitten himself to let it loose."

The elderly man then told the boys that it was most unusual to find a krait in the United States. "The snake's natural habitat," he said, "is India."

The Hardys exchanged glances. More proof, perhaps, of the smugglers or Prince Tava being nearby!

Though doubly eager to renew their search, the boys first asked Ahmed to check the snake's cage. He 77 did so, and said he felt sure that the poisonous reptile could not escape.

Frank set the cage to one side of the trail, where they would pick it up on the way back, and the group proceeded. They walked for some time, searching carefully for clues, but saw nothing suspicious. Presently the foliage began to thin out.

At the moment Frank was in the lead. He held up a hand for silence. Then, dropping to his knees, he crawled forward.

"There's a large hunting lodge up ahead," he whispered. "And there's smoke coming from the chimney."

Chet explained that Mr. Smith had built the lodge to entertain his friends during the hunting season, but that he never used it in the summer.

For several minutes Ahmed and the boys remained in hiding and observed the lodge, built of peeled logs. Then Frank said: "It looks deserted, though someone must have built a fire recently. Let's see what we can discover. But be careful!"

Up ahead, the windows challenged them like suspicious eyes. Did the lodge conceal dangerous smugglers-or the kidnapers of a prince?

CHAPTER X.

Scarlet Clues.

the searchers warily circled the hunting lodge, but they came upon no one, nor was there any sign of activity. Still cautious, however, Frank said in a whisper: "Keep an eye on me, will you, while I get close enough to look through the windows?"

Frank hurried forward, zigzagging so that if anyone tried to attack him he would be an elusive target. At last he reached a corner of the low, wide veranda which ran around three sides of the building. Crossing to a large window, he looked into a handsomely furnished living room with a log fire burning. The room was unoccupied.

Frank moved stealthily from window to window. There were several rooms in the lodge, all well furnished. The bedrooms and kitchen showed evidence of a hasty exit of several people from the place. Dirty dishes were piled high in the sink, and bureau drawers were open.

Frank signaled to the others and they hurried forward. Moments later all were inside the lodge, looking for clues to the vanished occupants. At first glance they seemed to have removed everything.

Joe, who was more interested in where the occupants had gone than in the contents of the building, went through the kitchen and out to the back yard. At the edge of the woods he discovered a spring which flowed into a small creek. In the muddy earth around it were a number of footprints.

"Hey, come here!" he called. Ahmed, Frank, and Chet joined him. Joe said excitedly, "Here's evidence. Let's see where these tracks go."

"And look!" cried Frank, pointing in turn to several bright-red splotches on the ground.

"Looks like blood!" Joe exclaimed.

"Dried blood would be dark," Frank said. "That is brilliant red."

"And there are more red spots over here," called Chet. "Looks as if somebody was-spitting blood!"

"Your guess is close," said Ahmed. "This is a real clue. A betel-nut chewer has been here. A user of of betel nut spits a bright-red fluid." betel nut spits a bright-red fluid."

Their hopes raised by these latest discoveries, the searchers dashed into the woods, following the foot' prints Joe had discovered. When the trail of footprints ended, the boys spotted crushed leaves and broken twigs that marked the recent flight of several people.

Also, the conspicuous red splotches made by the 80 betel-nut user showed up here and there along the way. The fact that the inhabitants of the lodge had been in a hurry had made them careless, and therefore, that much easier to follow.

The foursome followed the trail to the edge of a rock-filled brook. There it was lost.

Frank and Joe knelt at various points along the opposite bank of the stream, looking for some sign to indicate where the fleeing group had come out. But they found nothing and concluded that the fugitives had gone far downstream.

Convinced that there was no way of picking up the trail beyond the stream, Frank suggested that they all return to the lodge and try to find some clues to the occupants'

ident.i.ties.