CHAPTER VI

A Well-Salted Guest

"we missed it by minutes," Joe said. He set the strongbox down and shook his head. "Another blind alley."

"Let's search the wagon," Frank suggested. "The intruder might have left something behind that could prove valuable to us."

Frank, Joe, and Solo began a methodical investigation, opening storage lockers, tilting back the few pieces of furniture, running their fingers along cracks and crevices.

"Here's something!" Frank exclaimed suddenly. Solo and Joe gathered around him. On the floor near the entrance, mashed by a heel, was a small mound of dark, flaky ashes. "This accounts for the smoke you smelled, Joe. Whoever was in here must have burned the contents of the strongbox."

Frank sifted the ashes and snatched out a frag-

49

50 Mystery of the Whale Tattoo

ment of yellow paper that had not been consumed. "We're in luck!"

He held the brown-edged piece of paper up to the light. A few words were still legible: Whitey Meldrum knows a...

"Did you ever hear of a Whitey Meldrum?" Frank asked Solo.

"No. The name doesn't mean a thing to me."

Frank put the scrap of paper into his wallet. Further search revealed nothing. They left the wagon. As they were descending the three steps to the ground, Joe said, "Look!" He bent and retrieved a torn photograph. Its edge was charred and there was a smear of chewing gum on it.

"This must have been in the strongbox," Joe surmised. "The fire didn't get it and it probably stuck to the thief's foot when he ran out."

The picture was of a wiry man, hawk-faced, and dressed in circus tights. Solo identified him as an aerial artist named Kane who had been killed some years ago in a fall from a high wire.

"Well," Frank said, "we're on to something, but I'm not sure what. I think our next move should be to get in touch with Dad."

Joe agreed. They thanked Solo for his help, left the carnival, and drove home. There they related the day's events to their mother and aunt.

Mrs. Hardy said, "Your father would want to be brought up to date."

"He certainly would," Aunt Gertrude sput-

A Well-Salted Guest 51

tered. "You should turn it all over to him. You boys have gone every bit as far as you should, maybe even farther. You're out of your depth, and it's too dangerous."

"Don't worry, Aunty," Joe said. "We're being careful."

The boys attempted to call their father at the New York hotel in which he was staying. The desk clerk told them Mr. Hardy was out; in fact, he had not been seen for the last forty-eight hours.

"That's odd," Frank said.

"He's probably tracking down a lead," Joe commented.

Frank suggested they try a radio message and the boys went up to their "ham" short-wave shack in the attic.

Their radio equipment was separate from that in their father's study. It included a receiver, a transceiver with VOX hookup, a signal generator, and a phone patch. Colorful QSL cards studded the wall over their gear, attesting to contacts with hams all over the world.

Time and again the boys called for their father to come in. No luck. Finally Frank clicked off the radio with a sigh and stood up.

"Dad must really have gone underground if he's not answering our radio call," Joe said as they trotted down the attic stairs.

"He probably has a hot lead," Frank said, "and doesn't want to risk breaking his cover."

52 Mystery of the Whale Tattoo

When they reached the first floor they found Aunt Gertrude all atwitter. "Elmer Hardy called," she told them. "He's arriving at eight o'clock tomorrow morning!"

"That's great!" Joe said with a wide grin,

"But we didn't expect him that soon, and we'll have to prepare the guest room and . . ."

"Don't worry, Aunty. You'll have plenty of time in the morning. We'll pick him up and meanwhile you can straighten up the house."

The next morning the boys drove to the bus terminal, parked the car, then scanned the crowded waiting room. Elmer Hardy, looking like some romantic figure straight out of the Great Age of Exploration, was not difficult to spot. His sun-bronzed skin, great mane of hair, thick beard, and rough seaman's garb set him miles apart from the rest of the travelers.

"Cousin Elmer!" Frank called out. "Oh, Cousin Elmer!"

The man swiveled his head and his face lit up with pleasure. "You must be Frank and Joe," he said, hastening through the crowd toward them. His right arm was in a sling, so he used his left hand to shake hands. Then the visitor stood back and looked the youths over from head to foot.

"Well, knock me down with a belayin' pin! I can hardly believe that you are Fenton's sons. Why, you're practically full-growed!"

"We're really happy to meet you, Cousin Elmer.

A Well-Salted Guest 53

From what Aunt Gertrude tells us, you're practically a family legend."

"Oh, pshaw! Just call me Elmer. Nothin' legendary about me. I'm an old sea dog, that's all."

"Did you break your arm?" Frank said solicitously.

"Nope. Just a strain. Got it heftin' my duffel bag the wrong way. Speakin' of that, hate to bother you, but could you boys give me a hand?"

"Glad to," Joe said.

Elmer walked to the baggage claim area and pointed out a huge canvas sea bag with his name stencilled upon it. "There she be."

"Wow!" Joe said. "I'll bet that took up half the bus."

Elmer laughed. "Only a quarter of it, boys, only a quarter."

Frank and Joe lugged Elmer's bag to the car, placed it in the rear seat, then drove their cousin home. Elmer greeted Laura Hardy and Aunt Gertrude with warmth, and as he kissed each of them fondly on the cheek, tears glistened in his eyes.

Aunt Gertrude had prepared a hearty breakfast and Elmer pitched into the food with great gusto. He was reluctant to talk about his past except in general terms.

"Oh, there were good times and bad times, just like in anybody's life, I guess." He sighed. "I'm well into middle age now and these last few years I really been hankerin' to see my relatives. Just

54 Mystery of the Whale Tattoo

think-me being cousin to the famous Fenton Hardy. I'm awfully sorry he's not here. But enough about me. Fill me in on what all of you have been doin' over the years."

Later Joe and Frank asked to be excused, since they wanted to see Tony.

They found he had made a fine recovery, and that the doctor had said it would be all right for him to get out of bed. Frank and Joe went down to the spacious recreation room, where Tony was pacing up and down.

"I don't care if Mr. Solo did call me and offered to help in any way he could," he fumed. "I say those carnival people did it!"

Biff Hooper, lounging on a couch, supported Tony. "I'm with you!"

"Even if it was someone from the carnival," Frank said, "I just don't think Mr. Solo was in on it. Sure, he's an excitable guy, and your whale exhibit was taking business away from the carnival but I feel he's okay."

"That may be," Biff said. "But I'm not so sure about that goon Felsen. And for that matter, Boko and Rembrandt don't seem to be Cub Scout leaders, either."

"Speculation's an integral part of detective work," Frank said. "But what we need now are facts. Facts!"

"Who's fat?" said a voice from the stairs. Then Chet clomped down into the recreation room.

A Well-Salted Guest 55

"Fellows," Joe said with a sweep of his hand, "I give you Chesterton the Great!"

Biff and Tony applauded with the Hardys. Chet made a comic bow, then crossed the room and slumped wearily into an easy chair. "Oof! I just had a dozen pancakes for breakfast!" He patted his middle section and rolled his eyes.

Just then Mrs. Prito came down to the recreation room bearing two steaming hot mushroom and sausage pizzas. She smiled. "I thought I might interest someone in a snack," she said. "Any takers?"

"You bet!" said Biff. Tony opened some bottles of soda while Biff helped Mrs. Prito cut the pizza.

"Chet? How about you?" Mrs. Prito asked.

"Oh, I couldn't," he groaned. Then, a brief moment later, he said, "Well, just a little to keep up my strength." He helped himself to a large wedge.

The boys ate silently. Midway through a hot triangle of pizza, Frank looked up suddenly.

"I just remembered something about Boko," he said, and told the others about the clown's strange whale tattoo. "Think there might be any connection between that and the missing whale?"

Biff shrugged. "It's probably just coincidence."

"You know," said Joe, "Rembrandt has a whale tattooed on his chest. That makes three whales."

Tony looked doubtful. "Still coincidence. Tattooed men have all kinds of designs and pictures

56 Mystery of the Whale Tattoo

on their bodies. There's no reason why a whaling scene shouldn't be one of them."

"Still," Joe said, "three whales . . ."

"Four whales!" Chet cried, springing to his feet.

The others stared at him.

"Frank," Chet said, "didn't you tell me that the name on the note sent to R. R. Dunn offering the Ivory Idol for sale was Blackright?"

"Yes," Frank answered. "What of it?"

"Well, Blackright is a whale, too!"