Danger on Vampire Trail by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

back,” said Joe, who was at the tiller. He turned the bow of the boat into the waves and started across the wide expanse of water, but made little progress against the wind.
    â€œThis outboard isn’t strong enough,” Frank said. “We’re getting nowhere fast.”
    Joe turned about and skirted the shore, hoping the wind would die down. Instead, it increased in intensity.
    â€œLooks as if we’re stuck for the night,” Frank said.
    They decided to find a sheltered place where they might put up. Joe steered closer to the shore, scanning the hills which sloped directly to the water without any beach whatever.
    â€œHey, look up ahead,” Frank said, pointing.
    There was a small cave at water level. Obviously the action of the waves had eroded soil and rocks in the embankment.
    â€œWe could duck in there for protection,” Joe said.
    By bending their heads low, the rubber boat slid into the small pocket cave. The roof was high enough so they could sit upright.
    â€œGood luck so far,” Frank said.
    They waited for the wind to subside. After about an hour, the lake gradually grew calmer.
    â€œWhat about Chet and Biff?” Joe asked. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”
    â€œI’ll try to raise them on the radio,” Frank replied.
    Their friends had been instructed to leave the waveband open in case of an emergency. Frank flicked on his set and called. Biff answered. “What are you doing? Where are you? When are you coming back?”
    Frank told him about their predicament, then said, “What’s going on over there? Where’s Chet?”
    â€œHe’s keeping an eye on Mungo.”
    â€œThen he hasn’t left yet?”
    â€œNo.” Biff added that Mungo had asked some pointed questions during the day about the Hardys’ boat trip.
    â€œDid he see us leaving?” asked Frank.
    â€œRight,” Biff said. “He had his binoculars trained on you all the time. Chet and I spied him just as you shoved off.”
    â€œThen he’s not quite so friendly as he was?”
    â€œYou can say that again. And he hasn’t taken very kindly to Sherlock. He eyes him suspiciously.”
    â€œStick with it,” Frank said. “If Mungo leaves, let us know right away. See you in the morning.”
    Frank had just signed off when Joe said, “Look out there!”
    The running lights of a boat gleamed in the dusk. They pushed their boat close to the cave opening and strained their eyes to peer into the gloom. A white craft moved past, nearing the shore at low speed.
    â€œThat’s the cruiser!” Joe hissed.
    Quickly the boys guided their boat out of the cave, started the outboard, and began to trail the craft. They followed it stealthily.
    The cruiser approached a cluster of lights on the shore ahead.
    â€œLooks like a marina,” Frank whispered. “Steer as close as you can, Joe.”
    The cruiser sounded its horn in three short blasts and several men appeared quickly at the water’s edge.
    Joe stopped the outboard, then paddled nearer to the marina. Flashlights bobbed. The boys eased themselves out of the rubber boat, tied it up, and crept along the shore. Now they could hear the conversation.
    â€œThe boss’ll like this deal,” a man said. “I sold it to a sucker down the pond a piece. To be delivered in the morning.”
    â€œGood work, good work,” another man praised. “Did you sell it as is?”
    â€œNo. He wants a blue model.”
    â€œSo it needs a paint job.”
    â€œRight. Otherwise it’s clean. All identification has been removed.”
    Soon there came the gentle hiss of paint being sprayed on the cruiser.
    Frank and Joe did not dare to whisper. If they were heard, they would be easy prey to the thieves.
    Hours passed. Finally the first man spoke again. “Okay, the job’s done. Radio E. K. and tell him to scram, if he hasn’t gone