Free The Firebird Rocket by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

the opposite side of the street. The older Hardy boy recognized the man with the beard and the tinted glasses!
    â€œOur shadow from Princeton!” he told his companions.
    â€œThe guy who tried to run us down!” Joe exploded. “Let’s get him!”
    The boys turned and hastened to the corner to cross Elizabeth Street. Ponsley brought up the rear as fast as he could. But the light turned red just as they arrived at the intersection and the flow of traffic compelled them to wait. By the time they got across, they could barely glimpse their quarry almost a block away.
    â€œHe’s heading toward the waterfrontl” Frank cried.
    The Hardys and Ponsley ran after him. A sign, HARBOUR BRIDGE, pointed the way to the busy eight-lane steel span connecting Sydney to the North Shore.
    Presently they came to the dock area, where ocean liners and tramp freighters were tied up at the piers to disgorge and take on passengers and cargo. Across the waters of Sydney Cove on their right could be seen the dazzling new opera house, looking like a cluster of pointed white concrete sails.
    As the boys slowed to get their bearings, they almost bumped into a sailor who was hurrying in the opposite direction.
    â€œSorry, mates! I didn’t see you coming,” he apologized.
    â€œDid you happen to pass a bearded man with dark glasses?” Frank asked him.
    The sailor shoved back his cap and scratched his head. “Don’t recall noticing anyone like that,” he replied, “but if you want to come back to me ship for a minute, I’ll find out if anyone saw him.”
    â€œThat’s mighty kind of you, but weren’t you going the other way? We don’t want to hold you up.”
    â€œThat’s all right, cobber. I was just going on shore leave. Nothing that urgent.”
    Ponsley sat down on a wooden bollard to catch his breath. “I need a breather after all that running,” he said. “You two go on. I’ll wait here.”
    The boys accompanied the sailor to his freighter, which was moored nearby. On its stern was the name Sydney Cove.
    The sailor grinned. “Recognize that name?”
    Frank and Joe shook their heads. “Should we?” the younger Hardy boy asked.
    â€œMaybe not, seeing as ‘ow you’re Yanks. But there once was a ship called Sydney Cove that sank. Only three ’ands survived to tell the tale. So now some say every ship with that name is jinxed.”
    Frank laughed. “We don’t believe in jinxes.”
    The sailor grinned. “Then you got nothin’ to fear. Come on aboard. You can call me Salty, by the way. Everyone else does.”
    He led the way up the gangplank to the well deck, where the captain was giving orders to his bosun and deck hands. One of the men was attaching a huge bale to a cargo boom near the open hold.
    â€œWhat’re you doing back aboard, Salty?” the officer bellowed.
    â€œJust ‘elpin’ out these two Yanks, sir. They’re lookin’ for a bearded man with dark glasses. Anyone see ’im go by?”
    The skipper and crewmen, who had stopped work, shook their heads. The boys thanked them and left the ship. They saw Ponsley coming toward them across the dock.
    â€œI’ve seen enough of Sydney,” he declared. “I’m going back to the hotel. Want to share a taxi with me?”
    â€œMay as well,” Frank answered. “Looks like we’ve lost that creep we were chasing.”
    As they turned to go, the freighter’s cargo boom swung out over the side with a heavy bale in its cargo net. The net opened just above the three and the bale hurtled down on them!

CHAPTER XI
    Chet’s Clever Plan
    FRANK caught a glimpse of the bale as it tumbled out of the cargo net. “Watch out!” he shouted.
    Frank and Joe lunged into Ponsley, pushing him out of the way and knocking him over backwards. The three went down in a tangle of arms and legs as the heavy