Free Mystery of the Desert Giant by Franklin W. Dixon

passed under the Blythe highway bridge.
    All morning Frank and Joe scanned the shore on both sides for any possible clues to the missing men or the boys’ enemies. They noted the high bluffs across from Ripley, where they knew two of the giant effigies lay. The familiar area yielded no new lead from this fresh vantage point.
    Shortly before noon the boys put in to shore. Frank made a small, hot fire and cooked the big bass for their lunch.
    â€œWe ought to be near Imperial Dam,” Joe remarked. “We’ve been on the water over five hours.”
    A short run after lunch brought them to the wide, calm water above Imperial Dam. They put into a dock on the California side, where they were met by a big friendly man wearing a red polo shirt and a blue baseball cap.
    â€œHowdy, boys. Going on down the river? I’ve got a truck waiting here. Be glad to carry you down below the dam!”
    â€œSwell,” Frank agreed. “But first we’d like some information. We’re looking for a number of men wanted by the police.”
    As the young sleuth had hoped, his announcement brought forward several people—fishermen, boat-dock proprietors, and truckers.
    â€œWanted by the police? What did they look like?” the first trucker asked.
    One by one, Frank gave careful descriptions of Grafton, Wetherby, the man who had posed as a bellman, and the two rough-speaking, strong-arm men.
    â€œWaal,” drawled one old fisherman, “I been coming here every day for twelve years, and I never seen any of them.”
    â€œThe first two would probably be together—one is very skinny.” Joe tried to prod their memories. “And the big men are called Ringer and Caesar.”
    The circle of men shook their heads.
    â€œNope.”
    â€œ ’Fraid not.”
    â€œMe neither.”
    Discouraged, Frank and Joe helped the friendly trucker to load their boat and secure it onto a rack. After the craft was launched again below the dam, Frank paid the man, and the boys pushed off once more.
    This time Frank took the tiller, and Joe looked keenly about him from the front of the boat. Abruptly, as the craft headed down the middle of the river, Joe jumped to his feet and pointed excitedly to the Arizona shore.
    â€œLook!” he cried. “The bellman!”

CHAPTER X
    The River Chase
    IMMEDIATELY Frank gunned his motors, and the red-and-white craft sprang forward in the water. But the sudden, powerful roar had aroused the suspect’s attention. Catching sight of the boat racing toward him, he slipped from view behind some rocks.
    By the time the young detectives reached the spot, the man had disappeared completely. All they discovered was a small green motorboat moored to a pole that had been driven into the river bottom.
    â€œThink it’s his?” Frank asked, perplexed. “Maybe we’d better land and go after him. He couldn’t be far away yet!”
    Tall, irregular cliffs rose within a few yards of the water’s edge in this wild spot. The shore was strewn with huge boulders that had broken away from the cliffs at some time in the past.
    Joe shook his head. “We’d never find him in this maze of rocks. He probably knows his way around, too. Let’s sit it out here. He’ll have to come for the boat sooner or later.”
    â€œUnless,” Frank pointed out, “he gets somebody else to come. And it could be the boat isn’t his.”
    â€œLet’s take the chance. I know it was the bellman. I had a good look at his face.”
    Already their boat had begun to drift. Carefully Frank maneuvered it back upstream. When they were in position just out in the river from the abandoned motorboat, Frank and Joe each slipped an anchor overboard.
    â€œOut here, we can keep our eyes on those cliffs,” Frank noted.
    â€œGood idea,” his brother approved. “Funny we haven’t seen the bellman climbing up