The Sting of the Scorpion by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

had learned how to recognize and disarm such contrivances. He took no chances, treating this one with the utmost respect.
    Luckily he saw a pressure switch lying in the sand close by and realized the crooks had not had time enough to rig a detonator.
    â€œA booby-trap setup?” Joe questioned, shaken.
    â€œRight. That’s why the dummy was put here. To arouse our curiosity. After walking up to examine it, one of us would have stepped on the mine, and— boom!”
    â€œWhew!” Joe wiped his forehead. “And I almost did!”
    â€œIt wasn’t fixed to go off yet,” Frank reassured him.
    â€œThank goodness!”
    â€œAlso, from the looks of this,” Frank went on, “I’d say it doesn’t contain enough explosive to do more than stun us, or at worst, injure us slightly.”
    â€œThen what was their angle?” Tony asked.
    The older Hardy boy theorized that the code message had been carefully planted as bait for the booby trap. “They figured we’d know enough about secret codes to decipher the note. Then when we got here, the mine would either scare us off the case or disable us enough to be captured without a fight.”
    â€œIn which event,” Joe added, “they would have held us as hostages to force Dad off the case.”
    â€œCorrect,” Frank agreed.
    There was silence as the four youths digested the grim significance of their find.
    Finally Tony stretched and sighed. “What do we do now?” he asked. “Hit the sack again or go back to Bayport?”
    â€œMay as well go back,” Frank advised. “We’ve accomplished what we came to do.”
    â€œThat suits me fine,” said Chet. “I’ve had enough of this creepy place!”
    Before leaving the island, the boys stuck a note under the park guard’s cottage door, informing him that a man who might be involved in criminal activities had been hiding out in the cave. Then they lugged their camping gear to the Napoli and climbed in. As they headed back across the bay, the first pearly light of dawn streaked the horizon.
    Joe was silent and thoughtful as they entered the harbor. “Do you suppose those three hoods came to Bayport after they left the island?” he asked his brother.
    Frank shrugged. “Hard to say. They seemed to be heading down the coast, but the way sound spreads out over water, it’s hard to judge direction. Why?”
    â€œRemember why we went in Tony’s boat instead of our own?”
    â€œSure. We figured the gang might be watching the Sleuth to see if we took the bait.”
    â€œRight,” said Joe. “So if those hoods didn’t come back here and report what happened, our boathouse may still be staked out!”
    Frank’s eyes narrowed. “That’s an idea! If we move fast, maybe we can nab the guy who’s keeping watch!”
    â€œAnd make him talk,” Joe added grimly.
    As soon as they had entered the marina and tied up at the dock, the Hardys left Tony and Chet to unload the Napoli while they themselves hurried off along the waterfront to check out their hunch.
    They were still fifty yards or more from their destination when Frank suddenly flung out his hand in warning. “Joe, look!”
    A man was tampering with the lock of their boathouse door!

CHAPTER IX
    Sky Show
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    IN unspoken accord, Frank and Joe quickened their pace, preparing to grab the trespasser before he could get away. But he evidently heard their footsteps pounding across the wharf.
    The man turned with a startled expression. Then he let go of the lock and darted away. The boys got only a quick glimpse, but noticed that he was dark-complected and had a black mustache.
    The two young sleuths gave chase.
    Their quarry was heading for a dockside warehouse. Barrels, crates, and empty oil drums were crowded against the front wall. Just before rounding the corner of the building, the stranger