Free The Stone Idol by Franklin W. Dixon

desk drawer. “This will show you where Outpost I is located. ”
    He took a pen and made a cross on the map. “Go directly toward the inland mountain with two peaks,” Muller advised, “then you stop at the large glacier at the base of the mountain. Turn west, go twenty miles, and you’ll see the outpost on a broad plain of ice and snow. ”
    He handed the map to Frank. “It really isn’t very far and it’s easy to find.”
    â€œWhat’s it like?” Joe queried.
    â€œIt’s made up of two small, wooden buildings. You’ll see an American flag flying from a pole out front. I’ll have our radioman send them a message to expect you. All that remains now is your transportation. Come on outside.”
    The Hardys’ Sno-Cat was ready. Antarctic clothing for them had been stowed in a compartment opposite the steering wheel, and the back of the vehicle was filled with crates of food. More provisions were lashed to a heavy sled tied to the rear of the Sno-Cat by a stout rope.
    â€œThese are supplies for the outpost,” Muller explained. “You’re to deliver them to Commander Noonan, who’s in charge. Then you’ll join the crew as student scientists and see if you can break the case you’re on. ”
    â€œWe’d like to say good-bye to our father,” Frank said.
    â€œSure,” Muller said. “He’s probably in the admiral’s office. Go on inside. You can leave your things out here.”
    The boys put their overnight bags in the Sno-Cat and laid the map on the dashboard. Then they went to see the admiral and Mr. Hardy.
    â€œGood luck, boys,” the investigator said. “Make notes on everything that you find suspicious. I’ll contact you later and we’ll talk about it.”
    â€œSure thing, Dad,” Frank said and the boys shook hands with the two men. Then they went outside again and climbed into the Sno-Cat, waving to a few crew members who were watching them.
    Frank started the motor. The treads of the vehicle began turning, and the rope grew taut in the rear as the heavy sled started to move.
    â€œHere we go into the wilderness,” Joe said with a wry grin. “Left out in the cold, so to speak.”
    â€œWhat I’d like to know,” his brother said, squinting his eyes against the whiteness around him, “is—will we find what we’re looking for?”

11 Lost in the Antarctic
    The Sno-Cat clanked forward over the ice and the powdery snow. Occasionally, the treads ground over outcroppings of rock with a harsh, metallic sound. An hour passed.
    â€œThe motor’s purring like a kitten,” Frank observed.
    â€œGood thing, Frank. If we stall, it’s a long walk back to Byrd Base!”
    Joe took a pair of binoculars from the glove compartment and focused on the terrain up ahead. “I see the mountain with the two peaks,” he announced. Measuring the angle with his compass, he added, “Two degrees to the left, Frank, and you’ll be on the beam.”
    â€œOkay.”
    Soon, they could see the mountain with their naked eyes. It rose like a solitary sentinel in the distance. There was no sign of life anywhere, no animals on the ground or birds in the sky.
    â€œIt’s eerie out here,” Joe commented as he gazed at the wilderness. A snowstorm was approaching.
    â€œAt least there’s no parking problem,” Frank joked.
    The Sno-Cat rumbled forward through howling wind and falling snow. Hitting a slippery patch of ice, Frank had to use his four-wheel drive as first one tread and then another began to spin because it could not get a grip on the ice.
    The Hardys crossed this slippery area and kept going until they reached the mountain. There Frank brought the Sno-Cat to a halt.
    â€œJoe, do you see the glacier?” he asked.
    Joe shook his head. “It must be on the other side. Let’s see.”
    Starting the engine again, Frank