Free The Ghost at Skeleton Rock by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

label on Joe’s box!
    A cold sweat broke out on the youth’s forehead. What if he opened the lid?
    â€œHey, come here!” called out a raspy voice.
    â€œQué quieres?” said the man near Joe.
    â€œThink I’ve found somethin’ good—a box of fine Swiss watches! Should make a real haul!”
    â€œAh, bueno!”
    As the Spanish-speaking intruder moved away, Joe gave a noiseless sigh of relief.
    The boys could hear muttered conversation as the thieves discussed the loot. Cautiously Frank and Joe raised the lids of their boxes. A moment later Chet and Tony lifted theirs.
    They could see the figures of the two burglars silhouetted by their own flashlights. They were squatting in front of a small crate, their backs to the boys. One of them seemed to be holding a bag.
    Scarcely daring to breathe, the four boys watched tensely. One of the men produced a fine saw and began cutting deftly along the label of the box containing the watches.
    In a few minutes an opening was made. The thief reached in and removed the packaged watches. Then his partner began filling the box with sand and rubble from the bag to equal its previous weight.
    â€œOkay. Now!” hissed Frank, giving the signal to attack.
    Moving silently, the four boys started to climb out of their crates. Chet was the first to emerge completely. But, in his eagerness, he let the crate lid slip from his sweaty fingers.
    B-a-a-ang!
    Instantly the burglars sprang to their feet. “Somebody’s here!” cried one of them.
    The other shrilled, “Vámonos! Let’s go!”
    Clicking off their flashlights, the two thieves darted off into the darkness. But the boys snapped on their own lights and managed to pin the fleeing men for a moment in the yellow beams.
    One of the thieves was heavy-set, dark, and swarthy. The other, slim and blond, bore a startling resemblance to Joe!
    The Hardys became tense with excitement. Was this the contact man of the gang—the one who had chloroformed Jack Wayne back at the Bayport airfield?
    â€œI’ll guard the tunnel,” Frank told his brother. “The rest of you scatter!”
    The two thieves had already taken cover among the barrels and crates.
    â€œOne of ’em’s over there!” shouted Tony. But a crash of boxes indicated that their quarry was already plunging off.
    Joe, Tony, and Chet lost no time in pursuing him. Soon the darkened warehouse was a scene of bedlam.
    â€œI wonder where the watchman is,” thought Frank. “He must have been knocked out.”
    Crates were banged over, piles of goods and boxes sent toppling as hunters and quarry blundered about in the darkness.
    â€œHelp! I’ve got him!” Chet panted, in a far corner of the warehouse.
    Tony sprinted to aid him. His beam picked out the blond man, struggling in Chet’s bearlike embrace. Instantly Tony tackled the fellow around the knees just as he jerked loose from Chet. The stout boy flashed his light square on the prisoner.
    â€œIt’s the one who looks like Joe!” Chet cried out triumphantly.
    â€œI am Joe!” howled the captive.
    â€œOh, no!” babbled Chet in nervous confusion.
    Just then a yell from Frank brought the others whirling to attention. “They’re getting away. Come quick!”
    The three boys raced in the direction of Frank’s voice. But it was too late. During the melee between Chet, Joe, and Tony, the two suspects had grabbed Frank and pinned him behind a stack of barrels. Then they had wriggled through the tunnel.
    â€œCome on! Let’s go after them!” cried Joe.
    He started to crawl into the tunnel headfirst, but Tony dragged him back.
    â€œNo, Joe. Don’t try it! Those guys have the advantage.”
    â€œBut we can’t let ’em get away!” Joe protested in exasperation.
    In the meantime, Chet had released Frank and they ran forward.
    â€œLet’s try the door!” Frank suggested.