The Sting of the Scorpion

The Sting of the Scorpion by Franklin W. Dixon

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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
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being tak—”
    He broke off as Chet suddenly clutched his arm and hissed, “Shhh! I think I heard something!”
    The Hardys instantly doused their lights. A moment later, a shot blasted the darkness!

CHAPTER VIII
    A Dangerous Dummy
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    KAPOW! The bullet ricocheted off a stalagmite close by. The cavern rang with echoes and all four boys sank to the ground.
    â€œSpread out!” Frank whispered urgently.
    More shots followed, spraying the area where they had just been standing.
    Joe snatched a hunk of rock from the floor and pegged it hard in the direction of the last gun-flash.
    He was rewarded by a yelp of pain and, almost at the same instant, the splashing sound of something falling into the water.
    Silence ensued, the boys scarcely daring to breathe. Tense moments lengthened. Then suddenly the stillness was broken by footsteps running away through the cavern.
    Was their enemy’s retreat just a trick? The four teenagers wondered.
    At long last, Frank groped for a rock and ventured to flash his light, ready to douse it again instantly and hurl his missile, should his beam reveal a glimpse of their unknown assailant.
    There was no one in sight!
    He played the light around thoroughly to make sure the gunman was not hiding behind a thick stalagmite or rock formation.
    â€œAll clear, I guess,” he murmured.
    The four boys rose warily to their feet, and Frank’s companions switched on their own flashlights.
    â€œWhew! Wh-what an experience!” Chet quavered. “I might have known something like this would happen, once you Hardys started chasing clues!”
    â€œThank goodness you heard the guy in time. You probably saved us,” Frank congratulated their plump chum. He added to his brother, “Nice going on your part, too, Joe. I take it you heaved a rock at him. At least that’s how it sounded.”
    â€œRight. I guess I hit him.”
    â€œYes. And then he must’ve dropped his gun in the pool.”
    â€œSo he decided to get out fast before we got him.” Tony chuckled in relief.
    The boys retraced their steps to the cavern entrance, moving carefully, ready to react at any moment if their enemy was lying in wait.
    As they emerged into the night air, the faint drone of a boat engine reached their ears. They listened as the sound slowly faded in the distance.
    Joe glanced at his brother. “Think that was the crooks leaving?”
    Frank nodded. “Probably.”
    The Hardys went back into the cavern long enough to retrieve the elephant book and snapshots, as well as the eating utensils, the lantern, and one of the empty soft-drink bottles.
    â€œThese should be enough to give us some clear fingerprints of the man who was hiding in the cave,” Frank declared.
    They ripped open the pillow ticking and used it as a makeshift bag to carry the evidence. After the Hardys rejoined their pals, the boys trekked back to Horseshoe Cove. Here they shone their flashlights around the site where the three men had been digging.
    A seated figure startled them momentarily, but Frank waved reassuringly. “Relax. It’s only a dummy.”
    The dummy’s back was propped against the cliffside, in a slight shallow recess formed by two projecting rocky outcrops.
    â€œWhy did they plant that here?” Joe wondered. He started to move forward to examine the seated figure, when Frank stopped him, flinging his arm across Joe’s chest.
    â€œHold it! There’s your answer!” Frank pointed to a round disklike object that Joe had almost stepped on.
    It was made of green plastic and was about the size of a small Frisbee. Apparently the men had been burying it in the sand when Tony’s move had alerted them to the presence of watchers on the cliff.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Chet blurted.
    â€œA land mine, unless I miss my guess.” With cautious fingers, Frank unearthed the device. Under Mr. Hardy’s expert training, he

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