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The mysterious guest 5 page





"Mr. Hardy is making no progress on the North case!" exclaimed Frank, astonished. "Are you sure that's what it said?"

"You thinkee me lie, you lead note you'self," said Tom Wat.

"No, I don't think you're lying. I was only surprised. Is that all that's written there?"

Tom Wat looked at the note again.

"Him say Misteh Ha'dy is out of town. It is time to stlike."

"Time to strike!" gasped Joe. "What does that mean?"

Tom Wat shrugged.

''Time to strike!'' repeated Frank. ''I don't like that."

"Sounds like trouble," agreed Sidney Pebbles seriously. "What do you think it means?"

"Dad has been working on a case for Orrin North," Joe explained. "I can't imagine why any Chinaman should be interested, however."

"Some Chinaman is very much interested, that's clear," declared Pebbles. "I'd advise you chaps to be on your guard."

"Against whom?" said Joe.

"That's the question. You don't know what it's all about."

"Bad fella," grunted Tom Wat suddenly. He thrust the note out and pointed to a tiny mark in ink in the lower left-hand corner.

"What does that mean?" asked Frank.

"Me savvy," said Tom mysteriously. "Bad fella come your place."

"I wish we knew what case our father was working on for Mr. North," muttered Joe. "We're quite in the dark now."

"Mr. North won't tell you?" suggested Pebbles.

"I hardly think so. He didn't volunteer any information anyway. When this other Pebbles disappeared from our house some papers vanished at the same time and I think they were information in the North case."

"Then he took them," said Pebbles decisively.

"We're not sure." Joe explained further about Aunt Gertrude's dream about the Chinaman, and the circumstances of the strange footprints under the window.

"This note opens up a new angle, you see. Aunt Gertrude may not have been dreaming. There may have been a real Chinaman in the house."

Sidney Pebbles whistled softly.

"It's too deep for me," he admitted.

At that moment there was a startling interruption. A curious rustling among the leaves of the trees was followed by a whirring sound. Something bright and gleaming flashed in the sun. Tom Wat uttered a startled cry, and leaped back, just as a gleaming object whizzed through the air and buried itself in the ground at his feet.

For a moment the boys were dumbfounded. Then Frank sprang forward, snatching up the object quivering in the earth. It was a knife, a long, sharp, evil-looking knife. Had Tom Wat failed to leap back in the nick of time the blade would have struck him with terrific force.

"Who threw that?" shouted Sidney Pebbles.

Tom Wat was white with fear. He could not speak. With a trembling finger he pointed toward the bushes. Frank and Joe wheeled and sprang toward the shrubbery. They crashed into the undergrowth in the direction from which the knife had come, and caught sight of a darting shadow among the trees.

"After him!" he shouted.

The shadow vanished as swiftly and as mysteriously as it had appeared. Though the boys ran toward the place with all possible speed, they found no one.

"Go that way, Joe!" urged Frank, gesturing toward the left. "I'll take this side of the bush. We'll get him, but be careful."

They separated and went crashing through the heavy growth. In the distance Frank heard the quick snapping of twigs, and followed the sound. He emerged upon a narrow-trail, at the end of which was a tiny clearing.

The opening, for the moment, was deserted. Then, out of the dense screen of leaves, emerged a man. He came out quite silently. Scarcely a branch stirred in his wake. He sped across the space, plunged into the bushes on the other side and was gone.

Frank had no more than a fleeting glimpse of his yellow, evil face, but that was enough.

"Louie Fong!" he gasped.

He ran down the trail and entered the clearing. There he paused and listened, hoping to hear some sound of the fugitive's flight. He heard nothing but a great crashing in the bushes about a hundred yards away, indicating the presence of Joe.

Frank thrust aside the undergrowth where he had last seen the Chinaman, and followed, but he heard no further sound. He searched the bushes thoroughly. After a while he was joined by his brother.

"Can't find a sign of him," panted Joe.

"I saw him," said Frank. "He was too quick for me, though. I think we've lost him."

"You saw him! Would you know him again? What did he look like?"

"It was Louie Fong!"

Joe was astounded.

"Are you sure?"

"Louie Fong or his double. I caught only a glimpse of him but I don't think I'm mistaken."

The boys resumed their search, but after ten minutes' fruitless hunt through the brush they were obliged to admit defeat. Louie Fong–if it had really been the Chinaman–had given them the slip.

They returned to the place where they had left Tom Wat and Sidney Pebbles. The former was shaking with fear. His face was gray. He was frankly terrified. His narrow escape from death had left him completely shaken and unnerved.

"Boy!" exclaimed Pebbles. "Another inch and we'd have had a corpse on our hands. Couldn't you catch the fellow?"

Frank shook his head.

"I saw him but he got away."

Tom Wat clutched eagerly at his sleeve.

"You see him? Who?"

"I think it was Louie Fong."

Tom Wat groaned. He covered his face with his trembling hands.

"No good. No good," he muttered. "AUee samee dead man now."

"You're not dead yet," said Pebbles. "Do you mean to say this Louie Fong is trying to kill you?"

"Almost killee me on dock," moaned Tom Wat. "Next time him makee sure."

"But why?" demanded Frank. "What has Louie Fong against you?"

"No can talk. Him enemy. Him killee me next time. Shut me up."

"He is going to kill you to shut you up so you won't talk any more?"

Tom Wat nodded, trembling.

Sidney Pebbles shrugged his shoulders.

"That's nonsense. Go tell the police. Tell them he threw a knife at you. They'll fix him in a hurry."

"Louie Fong in jailee, me die allee samee. Louie Fong man come long some night. Tom Wat die."

The little Chinaman seemed convinced that there was no hope for him. Even Louie Fong's arrest would not save him from revenge and death at the hands of the leaders, and a cruel, heartless death it would he.

"I think you ought to tell the police," advised Frank seriously.

Tom Wat would not hear of this. He shook his head again.

"Chinaboy no tellee police," he declared. "No good. Cause plenty tlouble."

"You seem to be in for plenty of trouble anyway if there's a fellow on your trail with a knife, that's all I can say," remarked Pebbles. "And a dog, too!" he exclaimed as a sudden thought struck him. "I'll bet that animal belonged to Louie Fong. It was you the dog was after."

"Mebbe," returned Tom Wat in a subdued, colorless voice.

"Well," said Frank, "we're not going to desert you, that's certain. We'd like to know more about this Louie Fong, too."

Tom Wat's face brightened.

"You help me?"

"Of course we will."

"Personally," observed Sidney Pebbles, "I think you're letting yourself in for a lot of grief. Chinese feuds are good things to leave alone."

 

CHAPTER XIV

THE DISGUISE

 

Little did the impetuous Hardy boys realize to what lengths they would have to go to fulfill their promise to Tom Wat. They had given their word to help the frightened Chinaman against Louie Fong and his crowd, but as yet they did not realize the extent of their task.

"Where do you live?" said Frank. "Are you still working in Bayport!"

"No workee in Bayport now," returned Tom Wat. "Louie Fong catchee me."

"You can't go back to your old job?"

Tom Wat was firm on this point. Nothing would induce him to return to his old place in the city. If he showed himself at his former haunts, he told them, he would be dead within twenty-four hours.

"Then where do you plan to go?"

The Chinaman said he did not know.

"He had better come with us," Joe suggested. "We can hide him at our house."

"And if Louie Fong catches him there," remarked Sidney Pebbles, "your home will be turned into a fine imitation of a battlefield. You'll be dodging flying knives and bullets from morning until night."

"There's only one answer to that," returned Joe. "Louie Fong mustn't know he is staying with us."

"Louie Fong find out some way," muttered the little Chinaman.

"We'll disguise you," said Frank.

Sidney Pebbles laughed.

"That's an idea. Get him a pair of green goggles and a long white beard."

Joe regarded the Chinaman solemnly for a moment.

"Green goggles, nothing," he said suddenly. "We can dress him up as a girl. He's just the type."

Tom Wat took alarm at this suggestion. He shook his head violently.

"No dlessee me up allee samee like girl," he objected. "No likee."

"Well, what are you going to do?" asked Sidney Pebbles. "If you go back to Bayport as you are now Louie Fong will find you and that will be your finish."

The Chinaman shivered.

"These boys will take you to their home and hide you there. You won't have to stay dressed as a girl all the time. As it is, you haven't any place to go now."

"No place to go," said Tom Wat sorrowfully.

"Will you do it?" asked Frank. "We'll look after you. There's an extra room at our house and you'll be quite comfortable."

"Allee light," agreed Tom Wat.

"But where are we going to get clothes for him if we're going to dress him up as a girl?" asked Joe.

"That's a problem," Frank admitted.

At this point Sidney Pebbles came to their assistance.

"We have a few maids working at 'Lantern Land,' " he said. "They'll be glad to help. Come to think of it, there is one girl who is just about Tom Wat's size. Come along and I'll see what she can do for us."

They left the shelter of the trees, crossed the road and went into the courtyard. Tom Wat looked apprehensively from side to side, evidently afraid that the villainous Louie Fong might still be hanging about. Sidney Pebbles, however, set his fears at rest.

"Louie Fong is probably halfway back to Bayport by now," he said. "He isn't taking any chances on being caught and arrested for throwing that knife."

He led them to the side entrance of the road-house and they went in. Passing through a corridor they emerged into a huge main room with a shimmering dance floor. A pretty girl was dusting furniture.

"Hello, Jean," said Pebbles as the young woman looked up and smiled at them. "How's your wardrobe?"

"My wardrobe?" asked the girl, puzzled. "Why Sidney, you know very well that the wages I get here won't let me dress like the Queen of Sheba."

"Have you an extra outfit you'd like to sell?"

"We'll buy you a new one," volunteered Frank quickly.

"No girl would miss a chance of getting a new outfit," said Jean, dimpling. "What sort of clothes do you want?"

"Just a plain dress, shoes, silk stockings and a hat," said Pebbles. "Our friend here," and he indicated Tom Wat, "has decided that he'd like to dress up as a girl."

Jean looked at the wretched Chinaman and then she began to giggle.

"You aren't joking, are you?"

"Of course we're not joking," returned Sidney Pebbles. "If you have an outfit you'd like to get rid of, hand it over and you'll be saving a human life. This poor chap has an enemy and we want to get him out of here in disguise."

Jean became serious.

"I'll see what I can find in my room."

The girl hurried away.

"No likee," muttered Tom Wat. "No likee dlessee up allee samee girl."

"By the time we get through with you," promised Sidney, "you won't know yourself in the mirror. A little touch of rouge, powder and lipstick and we'll make a new man of you. A new girl, I mean."

Jean returned in a few minutes with the, dress and other articles of apparel.

"I think these ought to fit," she said. "He may try them on, anyway."

"Come along, Tom," said Sidney Pebbles, "You may use my room for the quick change act."

Reluctantly the Chinaman followed them to a room on the second floor. Sidney tossed the clothes on the bed.

"We'll wait for you."

The boys withdrew, leaving Tom Wat looking dubiously at the garments. They waited in the hall and listened to the subdued grunts and mutterings from beyond the door. The maid, Jean, came upstairs about ten minutes later, just as Tom Wat knocked timidly on the door to signify that he was ready.

"Come on out and let's have a look at you," said Pebbles.

The door opened. A weird object appeared. Tom Wat had done his best but he was quite conscious that his best was not good enough.

The dress, in the first place, was on backwards. He had tried to remedy this defect by hitching up the skirt with a huge safety pin. Modestly he had not removed his trousers and the silk stockings were drawn over the trouser legs in a baggy and shapeless manner. He tottered on the high heels of the shoes and the hat was awry.

"No likee," he muttered.

The girl burst into a shriek of laughter. A moment later she was joined by Sidney Pebbles and the Hardy boys. They roared with mirth. Tom Wat glared at them.

"No jokee!" he said.

"Oh, it's too funny!" gasped the girl. "He has everything on wrong."

An elderly, near-sighted chambermaid came down the hall at that moment. Curiously she advanced toward them, took one look at Tom Wat, stared and said:

"Mercy! It's a female tramp! Mr. Pebbles, get that woman out of this place at once."

Sidney Pebbles controlled his mirth.

"Go back in there and try again," he said to Tom Wat. "You don't wear silk stockings over your trousers. Take the pants off. And you have the dress on backward."

The chambermaid shrieked and fled. Jean became hysterical. Tom Wat, grumbling, went back into the room and slammed the door.

"I'll go and lend him a hand," said Frank.

A little later, when he emerged with Tom "Wat again, the disguise was more than passable. The dress fitted his slight figure perfectly, the hat drooped coyly over one eye and the stockings were trim and neat. Jean clapped her hands.

"Why, that's simply perfect!" she exclaimed. "Now a little touch of make-up–"

She fled toward her own room and returned quickly with powder, rouge and lipstick. She advanced upon the embarrassed Tom Wat.

"No likee. No likee," he said hastily, backing away.

Frank and Joe snickered.

"Whether you like it or not you're going to be disguised properly," said the girl firmly as she grasped his chin. "Hold still, now."

Expertly she dabbed rouge and powder on his cheeks, applied lipstick, pencilled his eyebrows and then stood back to survey her handiwork.

"There!" she announced proudly. "What do you think of him now?"

"He's a knockout!" exclaimed Sidney Pebbles jubilantly.

And to tell the truth, it would have taken more than a second glance to penetrate Tom Wat's disguise. He stood before them as a neat, shy and rather pretty girl, his delicate features and clear complexion adding to the effect. Jean was enthusiastic.

"He could go on the stage. That make-up would fool anyone," she said.

"It should fool Louie Fong, at any rate," remarked Joe. "Now let's get back to Bayport."

In the face of all this approval Tom Wat lost some of his resentment against his changed appearance. He went back into the room, regarded himself critically in the mirror, and then smiled.

"How I walk?" he inquired in a high voice. "Likee this?" And he tripped daintily across the room in an excellent imitation of a girlish walk.

"You'll do," grinned Pebbles. "You'll get away with it as long as you don't talk too much. And you mustn't forget to giggle every few minutes, for no reason at all, and powder your nose whenever you see a mirror."

The boys thanked Jean for her assistance and promised to replace the borrowed clothing with a new outfit as soon as they could make the necessary purchases in Bayport.

"On one condition," Sidney Pebbles reminded her.

"What is that?" she inquired.

"You're to forget all about this. You don't remember that a Chinaman ever came in here this morning or that you ever helped dress him up as a girl."

"I won't breathe a word of it," she promised.

"Good."

They went downstairs and left the roadhouse. Out in the courtyard Sidney Pebbles gave Tom Wat a final inspection and declared that he would pass for a girl in any company.

"You chaps had better keep in touch with me," he said to the Hardy boys. "If I can help you at all I'll be glad to do so. And besides, I'm curious to know more about this chap who is using my name."

"And your face," laughed Joe.

"The face is probably his own but it's dollars to doughnuts that the name isn't. If he is going around robbing people's houses I'll find myself in jail by mistake if he isn't stopped."

"We'll let you know if we hear anything more about him," said Frank.

They said goodbye to their new friend and went down the road with Tom Wat, who did not appear at all cheerful in his unaccustomed garb. By the time they reached the roadster, however, the boys had persuaded him that it was far better to endure a little inconvenience and remain alive than to court death at the hands of Louie Fong and his gang.

 

CHAPTER XV

THE SECRET GUEST

 

"I'm jealous," said Callie Shaw.

"So am I," added Iola Morton.

"And I," remarked Chet Morton, "am going to take you two lads to task for holding out on me."

Frank and Joe tried to look innocent. It was early that afternoon, after Tom Wat had been quietly smuggled into the Hardy home and they were driving down High Street, when their friends called to them from the sidewalk.

Callie Shaw, a pretty, brown-eyed girl whom Frank particularly admired was a close friend of Iola Morton, Chet's sister. Although Joe Hardy was never known to pay any special attention to girls it was well known that he was willing to concede that Iola was "all right–as a girl." This, from Joe, almost amounted to flattery.

"Do you understand?" laughed Callie, looking at Frank. "I repeat that I'm jealous."

"Me too," declared Iola, looking at Joe.

"You're both in wrong," chuckled Chet. "Come on. Tell us all about it. Who is the new girl friend and whose particular girl friend is she?"

"What girl friend?" asked Frank.

"No use pretending you don't know what we're talking about. The girls know all about it so you may as well 'fess up. Who was the swell-looking girl you two were driving with this morning?"

"Who said we were driving with a swell-looking girl?" asked Joe.

"I said so," returned Chet. "And I repeat it. As a matter of fact, I saw you. I nearly tumbled off my motorcycle. Who is she, anyway? Couldn't you give a fellow an introduction? New girl in town?"

"Sorry," said Frank airily, "but she's very particular about the company she keeps."

"Oh!" exclaimed Chet. "She's very particular about the company she keeps, eh? Well, well! What does she mean by going driving with you two, then?"

"That's right, Chet," laughed Iola. "Don't let them bluff you."

"Well–as a matter of fact," explained Joe, "she was with us–sort of by accident."

"It didn't look much like an accident to me," said Chet. "There she was, sitting right between the pair of you, as if she'd known you for years."

"What's her name, Frank?" asked Callie.

"I–I don't know," stuttered Frank. He could not very well explain that the mysterious friend's name was Tom Wat. And neither of the boys had thought of a suitable girl's name for their disguised guest.

"You don't know!'' scoffed Chet. "Tell that to the marines. Why, you took her right into your house. Who is she, Joe?"

Joe racked his brains for a suitable name to bestow on Tom Wat but he could think of nothing.

"What's her name, Joe?" urged Iola.

"Wat," blurted Joe.

"I said 'What's her name?' " repeated Iola.

"And I said 'Wat,' " replied Joe.

"I know you did. Couldn't you hear me? What's her name?"

"Her name," said Joe desperately, "is Wat. Miss Wat."

"Oh, I see. Miss Wat?"

"Miss what?" demanded Chet.

"Yes," said Joe.

Chet frowned. "Which one of us is crazy now?" he inquired. "I said, 'Miss what?' "

"And I said 'yes,' " shouted Joe.

"That's no answer to a civil question." Chet growled.

"The girl's name," Iola informed him sweetly, "is Miss Wat."

"Oh!" said Chet. "Now we know what's what."

"Anything else?" inquired Frank.

"Say, look here," objected Chet, "it seems to me that you two are holding out a secret on us. I'd like to know more about this mysterious Miss Wat."

"So say we all," added Callie Shaw.

"We'll be late for our engagement," observed Joe, for he saw that this argument might lead to complications. "Sorry. Afraid we must be going."

"Sorry!" chanted Frank, and the roadster lurched away.

Chet glared after them.

"We didn't get much satisfaction, did we!" laughed Callie. "They don't seem inclined to talk about their new friend."

"I scent a mystery here," said Chet. "And when Chet Morton scents a mystery he doesn't rest until he has solved it."

The Hardy boys were not wholly at ease as they drove away from their friends. They realized, however, that if they had stayed they might have let slip some vital information. They knew Chet's remorseless method of questioning. So far their secret had been well kept.

Neither Nurse Cody nor Aunt Gertrude knew of the presence of the Chinaman on the third floor of the Hardy home. Aunt Gertrude would have certainly suffered a relapse had she known of the extra guest. Tom Wat had been hidden in the drawing-room while Joe had lured Nurse Cody to the kitchen on the pretext of making up a grocery order. Frank had then hustled the frightened Tom Wat up the stairs.

Aunt Gertrude was asleep at the time. Safe in his third-floor room Tom Wat had been provided with a few sandwiches and told to make himself comfortable.

The boys were now on their way to seek another interview with Orrin North in Lakeside. They were in hopes that the ship owner might tell them something of the case on which Fenton Hardy had been working.

"If he would only tell us," said Frank, "we might be able to do something. Things may be in a terrible mess by the time Dad gets back."

" I think they're in a bad mess right now," said Joe. "Somehow, I have a feeling that Louie Fong is at the bottom of the whole business."

When they reached Lakeside they drove at once to Orrin North's office. When they inquired for the ship owner, however, the clerk in the outer room shook his head.

''He's away for the afternoon. You won't be able to see him until tomorrow morning."

The boys were disappointed.

"Did he leave town?" asked Frank.

"Oh, no. He went to the ball game."

"Then we might be able to find him there."

"Stranger things have happened," replied the clerk, with the air of one who has just said something very smart.

They drove out to the ball park. The game had already started for they could hear a roar of cheers from beyond the high board fence that encircled the grounds.

''Shall we go in?" asked Frank as he brought the car to a stop.

"We'll have a hard time finding him in that crowd," said Joe. "Perhaps we'd better wait until the game is over."

"That won't be for a couple of hours. If Mr. North is a baseball fan perhaps he has a season ticket. I'll ask one of the gatemen."

The Lakeside ball park was not very large and the town was not a very big one. It was more than probable, reflected Frank, that the gateman would know exactly where Orrin North was sitting. He got out of the car and went over to the entrance.

"Is Mr. North at the game?" he inquired.

"Whenever there is a game," returned the attendant, "you can be sure Orrin North is here. Yes, he just came in a few minutes ago."

"Does he always take the same seat?"

The man shook his head.

"No reserved seats in this place, sonny," he replied. "But I can tell you where Mr. North can be found. He's right in the top row at the south side of the field. If you walk along outside the fence you'll be able to see him. Better buy a ticket and come in."

'"I'll see what my brother thinks about it."

Frank returned to the car and told Joe what the gateman had said.

"No need of going in if we can see him from outside the fence. We'll save a dollar. We can call to him and maybe he'll come out for a few minutes."

They got out of their automobile and walked along beneath the board fence toward the south side of the ball park. They could plainly see the heads and shoulders of spectators above the top of the fence.

"If he is in the top row of seats we can't miss him," said Frank.

They reached the south side of the park and as they walked along they carefully scanned the row of backs above them. Every once in a while they could hear the crack of ball against bat, and the roar of cheers that punctuate the progress of every game.

"There he is," said Joe suddenly. "Just ahead of us. In the gray suit and straw hat."

There was no mistaking the heavy shoulders and bullet-like head of Orrin North. He was chewing at a cigar. Beside him sat a man in a cap and a loud check suit. The pair were in earnest conversation and were apparently paying no attention to the ball game.

Standing at the bottom of the fence, a few feet below Orrin North and his friend, the boys were undecided as to their next move. They did not care to interrupt the ship owner's conversation.

"Better wait until they've finished their chat,'' Frank suggested. ''Then we'll shout up to him."

It was soon obvious that the conversation between North and his friend was no casual affair. Then one word, spoken by the stranger in a tone that carried clearly to the boys beneath the fence, electrified the young listeners.

The word was "Hardy."

Frank and Joe were surprised. This conversation, then, had something to do with them or with their father. So far they had made no effort to overhear what North and his friend were saying. Now they were interested. Presently the shipowner remarked in a harsh voice:

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