CHAPTER XVI
The Alarm
The Hardy boys were quivering with excitement. They had found the whereabouts of their chums; they had learned the dismaying news that Fenton Hardy had been captured by his enemies; they had discovered the hiding place of the gang. All this had taken place in a few fleeting hours.
Their first problem was to release Chet and Biff. But at first glance that seemed impossible. For when Pete came back into the cave he flung a bunch of keys into the sand beside the fire and laughed harshly.
"They'll get tired bein' chained up to a rock after a few more days," he said. "They'll come through yet."
"We can wait as long as they can," declared Red.
"If they'll only write a letter to their mother now and tell her we want that ransom we'll be sitting pretty. Fenton Hardy can't come after them—that's certain."
"Well, it's a good day's work. I'm goin' to sleep," said one of the other men. He pulled a blanket about him and curled up beside the fire.
"Good idea," remarked Red. "We might as well all turn in."
Shortly afterward, the various members of the gang were sprawled about in their blankets on the sand. Frank noticed that they all slept on the same side of the fire, and also noted that the reason for this was that on one side of the cave the floor was a ledge of rock.
"We'll wait till they go to sleep," he whispered to Joe.
His brother nodded. The two boys remained crouched among the rocks. The rain had died away to a mere drizzle.
Gradually the fire, untended, died down, and there was only a faint, rosy glow through the interior of the cave. Two or three of the men had talked together in low murmurs for a while, but gradually their voices died away and soon the boys could hear their snores. It was nearly an hour, however, before they were satisfied that all the men were asleep.
"I'm going in after Chet and Biff," whispered Frank, with determination.
"I'm with you."
"The keys are still lying beside the fire."
"Good."
Frank rose from his cramped position among the rocks. Joe followed his example. Quietly, they moved toward the entrance of the cave.
The snores of the slumbering men were unbroken. Frank took the lead and tiptoed slowly forward. Step by step, keeping a wary eye on the recumbent forms wrapped in the blankets, the boys made their way into the cave.
Frank remembered where the keys had been thrown, and now he saw them in the sand. The faint glow of the firelight gleamed on them.
The keys were on the side of the fire nearest the men. It would be a delicate job to get possession of them. He bent forward and crawled on hands and knees. Joe came silently behind.
Frank skirted the fire, then groped carefully forward.
There was a mutter from the shadows. One of the men stirred in his sleep.
The boys remained rigid.
The muttering died away. After a long pause, Frank again reached for the keys.
His hands closed over them. He gripped them tightly so that they would not jangle together. Then he moved slowly back onto the rock ledge, the keys safely in his grasp.
The Hardy boys continued their silent journey toward the darkness in the rear of the cave. The dying fire cast little light.
Little by little they edged forward into the depths of the cave, past the sleeping men. The slightest noise, they knew, might be sufficient to arouse one of the gang. They proceeded with the utmost caution toward the back of the cavern.
At length Frank found what he sought. It was a dark patch in the rear wall—the entrance to the inner chamber.
He reached it safely and groped his way through into the pitchy blackness beyond. He stopped and listened. The sound of deep breathing told him that his two chums were asleep within.
He reached back and laid a restraining hand on Joe's arm, indicating that he was to remain at the mouth of the inner chamber and keep watch. Joe realized his intention and remained where he was. Frank then continued.
Cautiously, he groped about in the darkness, moving slowly forward. At length his hand fell upon an outstretched arm, then a shoulder which stirred slightly.
He bent forward and shook the sleeper.
"Chet!" he whispered.
The other boy moved and began to sit up. The chains jangled.
"Quiet!" whispered Frank, fearing that his chum might be alarmed at this sudden and surprising awakening and make some sound.
"Who is it?" whispered the other.
"It's me—Frank. I've come to help you get free."
From the darkness he heard a gasp of surprise, but it was quickly silenced.
"I'll waken Biff," replied Chet. Frank had merely guessed at this being Chet Morton whom he had awakened, and found that his guess had been correct.
In a few minutes Biff had been aroused.
"The men are asleep," whispered Frank. "Don't ask questions. Keep quiet until we get outside. I have the keys. Where is the lock?"
"We're chained to the rock," Chet whispered in return. He grasped Frank's hand, guiding it to the wall of the cave until his fingers closed on a heavy padlock. "There you are!"
Frank tried several keys before he found the one that fitted, but at length the padlock snapped open. He grasped the chain with his other hand so that it did not fall to the floor with a clatter. He lowered it gently.
"Now for the handcuffs."
Chet extended his wrists and Frank finally located the small key that opened the handcuffs. He removed them, then released Chet's feet in a similar manner. Then he crawled over to Biff, releasing him from his chains.
All this work had been done with a minimum of noise, and as there had been no warning whisper from Joe, they assumed that the men in the outer cave had not been aroused.
Frank led the way out, the three crawling on hands and knees into the main cave. They could see Joe crawling ahead of them, past the ruby glow of the embers.
The snores of the men continued without interruption. Frank was jubilant. The most dangerous part of the affair was over. Could they but gain the entrance in safety and reach their motorboat in the cove before the gang should discover that their prisoners had escaped, all would be well.
Frank caught sight of a flashlight lying in the sand. His own light had been lost in the rock cave the previous day and he knew they would need a light to regain their boat.
He reached carefully over for it. His hands closed about the black cylinder and the light was his.
Chet and Biff nodded appreciatively when they saw what he had done. The flashlight would be a big factor in aiding their escape.
Joe had reached the entrance to the cave by now. They saw him get to his feet and glide silently out into the darkness.
Frank reached the end of the ledge. The flashlight was clutched in his hand. Slowly he rose to his feet. But a small pebble betrayed him. He lost his balance and staggered for a second.
Had it not been for the flashlight the emergency would have passed because he flung out his hand and supported himself against the wall of the cave. But the heavy flashlight struck a loose projection of rock.
There was a grinding clatter of stone as the rock came free.
In the dead silence of the cave the noise seemed magnified many times. Frank knew that the sleepers would be aroused. He threw caution to the winds.
He leaped forward, gaining the entrance at a bound. Chet Morton and Biff Hooper, seeing that nothing was to be gained by further caution, scrambled to their feet and raced in pursuit.
The noise of the dislodged rock had already wakened one of the men. He raised himself on elbow in alarm and peered about. Then he saw the fleeing figures in the mouth of the cave and heard the running footsteps.
He sprang at once to his feet.
"They're getting away!" he roared. "Wake up, men! They're getting away!"
Instantly pandemonium prevailed within the cave. The men hastily tumbled out of their blankets, bewildered at being aroused from slumber.
The Hardy boys and their chums, racing across the rocky stretch on the outskirts of the cave, heard the uproar and the cry:
"After them! Don't let them escape!"