Free Mystery of the Samurai Sword by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

in Tokyo,” he said. “I’ve even handled a few investigations for them. If Warlord was ever in trouble over there, I’m sure they could check out the facts.”
    â€œGreat! Thanks, Dad,” his sons responded.
    Next morning, Frank and Joe went to the Bayport Chilton Hotel to see Takashi Satoya’s two senior aides. They noticed his rugged-looking, poker-faced chauffeur sitting in the lobby. He returned their nods politely.
    â€œLooks like he’s keeping an eye out for trouble himself,” Joe remarked in a low voice as they headed for an elevator.
    â€œYes, backing up the regular security guards,” Frank agreed. “And if any trouble does come up, he sure looks as if he could handle it.”
    Mr. Kawanishi and Mr. Oyama received them in the sitting room of the company’s hotel suite.
    â€œWe’re wondering if you could tell us anything about an American dancer called Warlord,” Frank began. “It happens he’s in Bayport to perform, and we were told he once had trouble with the Satoya Corporation when he was in Japan.”
    Satoya’s aides regarded the Hardy boys with fresh respect.
    â€œYou two young men do, indeed, carry out thorough investigations,” Mr. Kawanishi said. “And what you say is correct. I recall our company having trouble of some kind with the dancer called Warlord, although it happened several years ago.”
    Mr. Oyama explained, “He had a fight with one of our employees—a grudge fight, I believe, in which our employee was seriously injured and had to go to the hospital. As you may know, in Japan, companies take a keen interest in the private lives of their workers, as well as in how they perform their jobs. Therefore, the Satoya Corporation took legal action against Warlord, on behalf of our injured worker.”
    As a result, he went on, the dancer had been forced to leave Japan. However, all this had been handled by company lawyers, and neither Mr. Oyama nor Mr. Kawanishi knew any of the details. Nor, up until now, at least, had they considered it very important.
    â€œAre you suggesting that Warlord may know something about our revered employer’s disappearance?” Kawanishi inquired.
    â€œIt’s one possibility we wanted to look into,” said Frank. “We’d also like to know a little more about this samurai sword that was stolen in New York. Mr. Oyama told me on the phone that the sword may have been Mr. Satoya’s main reason for coming to America.”
    Both aides nodded seriously as though they had discussed the matter between them, following Frank’s phone call.
    â€œOur employer wore the sword as a young officer during World War II,” Oyama related, “but he lost it when he was taken prisoner by your soldiers, sometime before Japan surrendered. Apparently the sword was ‘liberated,’ as the saying goes, by a GI. At any rate, it disappeared. Perhaps you know how much a Japanese samurai values his blade?”
    â€œWe’ve been told,” said Frank.
    â€œThis one was especially treasured because it had belonged to the Satoya family for many generations,” Mr. Kawanishi added. “For that reason, our employer has had agents looking for it all over the world, feeling that one day whoever took it might decide to sell it for money.”
    â€œAnd events proved him right,” said Mr. Oyama. “He was delighted when the sword turned up for sale at the Palmer-Glade Galleries. He was able to identify it from their sale catalog. But, alas, I fear the news of its theft may come as a very unpleasant blow to him—that is, assuming Mr. Satoya himself is still alive and safe.”
    â€œYou think he disappeared of his own accord?” Joe asked shrewdly.
    Once again, the Hardys saw a troubled glance pass between the two aides.
    â€œI must confess we do think so,” Mr. Kawanishi admitted, “even though we are at a loss to explain how or