Hunting for Hidden Gold by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

“While we were inside the place, someone shot at us.”
    â€œHe chased us for a while, and then we turned the tables and started chasing him,” Joe added. “Whoever the man was, he headed for the store.”
    Dodge frowned worriedly. “You boys seem to attract danger. I hope you won’t take any unnecessary chances on this case.”
    â€œWe’ll try not to,” Frank said. “There isn’t much more we can do tonight, anyhow.”
    The Hardys started to leave. Just before they reached the door, Frank turned and said casually, “By the way, does either of you know what’s meant by a ‘slip gun’?”
    Dodge and Burke looked surprised, but otherwise their expressions seemed innocent enough.
    â€œIt’s a gun that’s been fixed in a certain way so it can be fired by thumbing the hammer,” Dodge explained.
    â€œYou mean like fanning?” Joe asked.
    â€œNo. Fanning is when you hold the gun in one hand and keep knocking back the hammer with the other,” Dodge replied. “But in slip shooting you fire the gun by simply wiping your thumb back over the hammer. It’s a bit slower than fanning, but more accurate.”
    â€œHow would a gun be fixed for slip shooting?” Frank put in.
    Dodge shrugged. “Oh, often the trigger’s taken out, and the hammer spur lowered. Sometimes a slip shooter may cut off part of the barrel so he can carry the gun in his pocket.”
    â€œSounds like a real gunfighter’s trick,” Joe said.
    â€œYou boys aimin’ to try it?” Burke grinned.
    â€œNo,” Joe replied. “I just meant that a slip gun isn’t something a law-abiding person would be apt to have around.”
    â€œEver seen one?” Frank asked the two men.
    Burke promptly shook his head. Dodge looked a bit startled, then answered slowly, “No. Stop to think of it, I don’t even recall where I acquired that information. One of those things you pick up in the West, I suppose.”
    The boys said good-by and went out. The night was chillier than ever and the wind biting.
    â€œWhere to?” Joe asked, pulling his jacket collar up for protection. “Back to Hank’s?”
    â€œNot yet,” Frank said. “Let’s see if we can find that gun the hooded man dropped.”
    â€œHey, that’s right!”
    As the two headed back toward the ghost town, Frank said thoughtfully, “Looks as though we now have two prime suspects, Joe.”
    â€œRight—Burke, or Bob Dodge, which is hard to believe. But those burrs on his clothes sure looked suspicious.”
    â€œDodge admitted he was on the hillside,” Frank pointed out. “I suppose the cemetery isn’t the only place they grow.”
    â€œYou’ll have to admit, though, it’s a real coincidence,” Joe argued. “On the other hand, Burke took a long time to open the door for us.”
    Frank nodded. “Long enough to yank off a hood and get out of wet clothes. I wish we could have searched his back room.”
    â€œAnother thing,” Joe went on, “the general store would be a perfect setup for a spy of Big Al’s in Lucky Lode.”
    â€œIt sure would,” Frank agreed. “Burke has a chance to learn everything that goes on. What’s more, he could relay telephone or telegraph messages between Big Al and members of the gang in other spots—even handle mail for them.”
    â€œHe could provide Big Al with supplies, too, including that red paint.”
    The boys trudged along in silence.
    â€œWe can build just as strong a case against Dodge,” Frank said after a while. “It seems strange to me that he keeps hanging around Lucky Lode, instead of tending to his business in Helena.”
    â€œI’ve wondered about that, too,” Joe conceded, “even though he claims to be staying here on account of the case Dad’s working on. If Dodge is in cahoots