Night of the Werewolf Read Online Free Page B

recently when you had occasion to look up your files on the Tabors,” Frank said.
    Desmond Quorn nodded. “Yes, another reader called three or four months ago to inquire about them, when my book first came out. I don’t think he gave me any name, or if he did, I don’t remember.”
    After thanking their host for the pleasant lunch, the Hardys and Chet continued their journey. All three were thrilled by the magnificent scenery of the Adirondack region, a land of rugged mountains, swift rivers, sweet-smelling deep green forests and still blue lakes.
    They telephoned Alena Tabor before reaching Hawk River and found her waiting for them when they arrived later that afternoon. The cottage, built of hewn logs, stood on a bank of the river. Alena came out to greet them as they pulled up in front.
    â€œI’m so glad you could make it,” she said after the Hardys had introduced Chet. “You’re just in time for a party!”
    â€œSounds great.” Joe grinned. “What sort of party?”
    â€œA barbecue at our house. It starts at seven o‘clock this evening.” She gave the boys directions for getting there and added, “You’ll have a chance to meet my father and brother, too.”
    â€œYou said your brother’s name was John, didn’t you?” Frank asked.
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œWhich would be the same as the Czech name, Jan, wouldn’t it?”
    Alena nodded, her expression immediately turning serious. “Yes, and by a strange coincidence, that was the name of the last alleged werewolf in the Tabor family. Jan Tabor was the father of the Hessian mer cenary who came to America.”
    She told the boys that her mother had died several years ago, and that the woman who now kept house for the Tabors was half Mohawk Indian.
    â€œWe call her Pocahontas, or just Pokey.” Alena smiled. “She looks a bit stern and overpowering, but don’t let her bulldoze you when you meet her. Incidentally, I’ll introduce you as chums of my girlfriend in Oakville. You can pretend you’re renting the cottage. That way, neither my brother nor anyone else will be suspicious of you.”
    â€œSuits us,” Joe said.
    The cottage was comfortably furnished with dishes and bedding, and even had a telephone. But Chet paid no attention to any of it. Instead, he looked out the window as Alena drove off in her car.
    â€œWow! What a knockout!” he murmured. Judging by the bashful admiration he had bestowed on her when introduced, it was apparent to the Hardys that Chet had fallen hard for the rosy-cheeked girl.
    â€œIt’s her plumpness he likes,” Joe whispered loudly behind his hand to Frank.
    â€œWhat do you mean, plumpness?” Chet retorted. “Her dimensions are perfect!”
    A red sunset was blazing behind the tall pine trees and an appetizing smell of steak was wafting from the barbecue pit when the three Bayporters arrived at the Tabor home. It was a handsome house of gray field-stone that seemed to fit perfectly in its wilderness setting. Adjoining the house was a patio and enclosed swimming pool on one side, and a hangar for Karel Tabor’s private helicopter on the other.
    â€œWhat a beautiful home you have!” Frank told Alena after she had shown them around.
    â€œMy father designed it himself,” she said proudly.
    Mr. Tabor was a broad-shouldered man of about fifty. The boys could see that his daughter took after him in features, but unlike her, he looked rather pale and gaunt. At the moment, he was welcoming guests and keeping an eye on the sizzling beef, but as soon as everyone was served, he made it a point to draw up a camp chair near the Hardys, Alena, and Chet.
    â€œYour father came to my office in New York not long ago, in connection with an insurance investigation,” Karel Tabor told Frank and Joe, “and from all I hear, you two seem to have inherited his knack for