Mystery of the Flying Express Read Online Free Page A

deck while Callie and Iola stepped down into the long cabin, where comfortable seats were arranged in rows on either side of a center aisle. The passengers were chatting gaily, but Chet was not among them.
    Finally the Hardys came inside. “Chet didn’t make the scene,” Frank reported.
    As he spoke, the engine started with a muffled roar and the Flying Express began to move. Slowly it churned away from the pier and out into Barmet Bay.
    â€œChet’s got me worried,” Joe said anxiously as the waves flashed by more quickly.
    The hull rose above the surface of the water and the foils beneath came into view. Soon the Flying Express was skimming at top speed out across the bay on its way to Providence.
    â€œCertainly no sabotage on that take-off,” Iola commented with a thrill in her voice.
    â€œSo far so good,” Joe agreed. “If the rest of the trip is like this, Mr. Given should be a happy man by the time we get to Cape Cutlass.”
    Frank rubbed his cheek. “That’s where we come in. It’s our business to see that the Flying Express does have a smooth trip. The take-off is only the beginning. There’ll be many more chances for sabotage farther down the bay.”
    He turned to the girls. “You two can enjoy yourselves while we have a look-see. Joe, suppose you take the bow and find out if anything’s stirring. I’ll take the stern. We can compare notes afterward.”
    Iola and Callie settled into comfortable lounge seats. Joe went forward. Everything seemed peaceful throughout the vessel.
    Frank stepped onto a catwalk at the stern. The wind buffeted him and he had to hang onto the railing. Below him a foil hissed along the surface and the propellers kicked up white foam. Fascinated by the hydrofoil’s principle of physics, he leaned over for a better look.
    Suddenly Frank sensed someone creeping up behind him. He tried to dodge. Too late! A pair of hands struck him heavily between the shoulders, flipping him over the side!
    Down he plunged toward the protruding foil —and toward the churning propeller beneath it!

CHAPTER IV
    A Near Miss
    WILDLY Frank threw his arms out. His hands clutched the upper end of the foil and braked his descent.
    For a moment he teetered there, straining every muscle to save himself from falling onto the deadly propeller, whirling like a buzz saw only a few feet below. His grip held! Frank pulled himself against the foil. He wrapped his arms tightly around it, lifting his feet clear of the foaming water which tore at his body. His shouts for help were soundless in the din.
    How long could his strength endure? The foil was slippery under his fingers because of the spray washing over it. Desperately Frank tried to hold on. But his grip was beginning to weaken! He started to slide down the foil toward the water! In a moment he would be caught in the propeller !
    Frantically he glanced up, and with hazy vision was amazed to see a girl looking down. Spotting Frank half in the water, she froze momentarily, then shouted for help.
    â€œMan overboard! Man overboard!”
    Joe had gone to the stern to join Frank. He had just climbed to the rear deck when he heard the warning cry. Instinctively he knew that Frank was in trouble and rushed to alert the pilot, who cut the power.
    The propellers stopped whirling and the Flying Express settled slowly to a stop in the middle of the bay. Joe and the pilot lowered a line and Frank was pulled onto the deck.
    â€œJust in time,” Frank gasped as he sat down, exhausted.
    Spencer Given pushed through the knot of gawking passengers. His face showed the familiar tinge of purple that the boys had noticed the day he had come to the Hardys’ house.
    â€œWhat’s the meaning of this?” he fumed. “You might have damaged my boat!”
    â€œMr. Given,” Frank protested, “your boat might have damaged me! It was touch-and-go down there!”
    â€œIs this any time for