The Secret Agent on Flight 101 by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

declared. “They’re having the hull fixed.” An idea flashed through his mind. “Now would be a good time to return to the islet!”
    â€œDon’t tell me we’re going to paddle ourselves all the way,” Chet complained.
    â€œWe’ll rent a motorboat,” Frank said. He made arrangements for the craft, then telephoned the airport and explained his plan to Jack. “Vordo and Stony Bleeker just arrived with their damaged powerboat. It’s docked at Clark’s Boat Repair place. Could you rent a car, drive down here, and keep an eye on those two? If they should start back to the islet before we return, fly out and warn us by making a low pass. If they start to leave town, notify the authorities.”
    â€œWilco!” the pilot replied. “I’ll get going right away.”
    When the boys went to the dock, the owner said, “Fellows, I’ve just learned by radio there’s some bad weather in store—a nor’easter.” He pointed toward a darkening ridge of clouds far off on the horizon. “You can see it stirring up already.”
    â€œBut this is important!” Frank insisted.
    The boatman pondered for a moment. “Well, if you promise to keep a sharp eye to the weather and to pull into land if it starts blowing too much, I guess you can have a boat.”
    The boys thanked him and after a quick breakfast started out to the islet. The trip took less than half the time it had required in the sailboat. Nevertheless, when the lighthouse came into view, the sky had grown dark and the howling wind had developed into gale force.
    â€œA hurricane!” Chet cried out.
    Torrential rain burst upon the boys and the boat was tossed around like a cork in the heavy seas. But Frank skillfully kept it headed for the islet and finally maneuvered close to shore.
    Joe tied the mooring line around his waist and leaped into the water. He swam hard to the craggy shore and soon had the boat on solid ground.
    â€œWhew!” Chet groaned. “It’s going to take me a month to dry out.”
    The boys peered through the sweeping sheets of rain at the lighthouse. Frank signaled his companions to be silent as they crept toward a lighted window near the base of the structure. Peering inside, they saw a man seated at a table.
    â€œBurly Wilkes!” Joe whispered.
    â€œHe’s alone,” Frank observed. “That’s a break for us.”
    â€œBut what about Dad?” Joe asked.
    â€œIf they’re holding him prisoner here,” Frank said, “he’s in another room.”
    â€œLet me take a look,” Chet suggested, and stretched higher for a glimpse inside. He slipped on a rock and banged his head against the glass. Burly Wilkes whirled around.
    â€œHide!” Frank ordered.
    As Wilkes stomped to the window, the boys flattened themselves against the wall. Apparently satisfied nothing was wrong, he returned to his chair.

    â€˜A hurricane!” Chet cried out
    â€œThat was close,” Joe commented.
    â€œSorry,” Chet mumbled sheepishly. “Now what?”
    Frank whispered a plan. “We’ll break in and take Wilkes by surprise. When I give the signal, hit the door with all you’ve got.”
    The boys positioned themselves. Frank raised his hand slowly, then dropped it. The three threw themselves against the door and it burst open. Wilkes jumped up from his chair, too startled to utter a cry.
    â€œStay where you are!” Frank commanded.
    But Wilkes, recognizing the Hardys, bolted for a staircase which spiraled up to the top of the lighthouse. The boys raced after him.
    Reaching the top, Wilkes rushed through a doorway and started to swing the metal door closed behind him. But Joe managed to prevent it from slamming shut by jumping into the narrow opening.
    â€œThere he goes!” Chet shouted as he spotted Wilkes running out onto a catwalk encircling the top of the structure.
    Finally the