The Clue in the Embers Read Online Free Page B

guess I may be a bit foolish about going to such trouble to locate them. I’d just like to get hold of them for the sake of sentiment—something to remember my friend by.”
    â€œWhat do the medallions look like?” Frank asked.
    Wortman explained that the medallions were made of some cheap metal, and had a design of curving lines. In addition, the larger one had a fake opal set in it, while the other had the word Texichapi inscribed on it.
    â€œWhat does that mean?” Joe asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” the seaman replied.
    â€œWe went through the whole shipment,” Frank said, “and I’m positive the medallions are not part of it. But we’ll look again. If we find them, you’ll have to make arrangements with Tony.”
    â€œThat’s fair enough,” the visitor replied. “Here’s where you can contact me.” He handed Frank a piece of paper with a New York address. Then he rose from his chair, thanked the boys, and started for the door. Suddenly he stopped short.
    â€œThere’s one more thing,” he said. “I was told in a seaport down in Central America that there’s a curse connected with those medallions.”
    â€œA curse!” Joe exclaimed.
    â€œRight. Trouble will come to anyone who sells these objects. That’s the real reason why I want to get them back.”
    The boys accompanied Wortman to the front door, then returned to the dining room to finish their breakfast. They discussed the sailor’s strange story.
    â€œDo you think he was telling the truth?” Joe asked his brother.
    â€œI think the part about the curse was trumped up,” Frank replied. “His imagination probably got the better of him. But the rest sounds real enough.”
    â€œLet’s ask Mr. Cosgrove at the New York bank who’s acting as executor of Prito’s will if he’s come across the medallions.”
    â€œI’ll call Tony and ask him to get in touch with him,” Frank said.
    Later that morning Tony called back, saying that Mr. Cosgrove had no record of the two medallions.
    Where could they be? What had Roberto Prito done with them? Had he sold them, or was Wortman’s story a fake?
    Their discussion was interrupted by a long-distance call from Mr. Hardy. He was in New York City. He told his sons news of general interest about his latest case, then said, “I was offered an assignment that sounded intriguing, but I had to turn it down because I’m too busy. Upon the recommendation of a detective agency here, a man by the name of Alberto Torres called on me at my hotel.”
    â€œWho’s he?” Frank asked.
    â€œHe claimed to be the head of a Guatemalan patriotic society,” his father explained. “He says his group is trying to uncover a treasure of antiquity. They don’t know where it is, but suspect that its location is known to some unscrupulous people who are trying to steal it. Naturally, the treasure belongs to the government.”
    â€œMaybe we could work on it until you’d be ready to take over,” Frank suggested. “Did Torres have any idea where it is at all?”
    â€œHe said that their only lead is a couple of medallions which have disappeared,” Mr. Hardy answered.
    â€œMedallions!” Frank exclaimed, and quickly related what had happened in the detective’s absence. Mr. Hardy listened intently and told Frank that he would try at once to contact Torres.
    â€œHang up,” he said, “and I’ll call you back as soon as I’ve talked with him.”
    Minutes passed. Finally the phone rang.
    â€œBad luck,” the boys’ father reported. “Torres checked out of his hotel and left no forwarding address.”
    â€œCan’t we do something about finding him?” Frank asked. “Maybe he’s going to contact Willie Wortman in New York City.”
    His father agreed that this was a possibility but said that he