CHAPTER XVI

An Icy Dungeon

"GET 'em!"

Though completely snowed under by the double* barreled Hardy attack, the mysterious stranger managed to shout orders to his oncoming aides.

Frank side-stepped a fist from one of the othe? masked men and landed a hard blow on the attacker's chest. As Joe ducked a charge from the third ambusher, their fallen leader arose and dived at the boy from behind.

Thrown off balance, Joe was an easy target for his two opponents, and went down like a tenpin. Against three, Frank stood no chance at all, and was quickly pulled to the ground.

Within a matter of minutes, the brothers were bound and gagged, then heaved crosswise onto the saddles of their horses.

"This must be some of Willie's gang," thought Frank as the horse started to move. "Now what?"

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There was no indication from the cowboys as to where they were taking the Hardys. Except for a terse command now and then by their leader, the men guided the Hardys silently on a grueling ride-through the rough country. Two of their captors rode ahead, the other at the rear.

"Why have they kidnaped us?" Joe's mind was in a whirl. "How did they know where to wait?"

"Who c-.'.-e they?" Frank wondered. "Where are they taking us?"

One hour went by, two, three. Frank and Joe had been in many a tight spot, but none ever had seemed so hopeless as this one. Each jog of horse and saddle against stomach and ribs knocked the breath from their bodies. The boys realized they were becoming so exhausted and sore that, even if they could manage to struggle free, they would not be able to walk.

Worst of all, they realized that they now would have no chance of meeting their father at Spur Gulch.

Hours later Frank and Joe heard the whistle of a train and shortly afterward they were approaching the railroad line. As best Frank could figure, they had traveled due south, then southwest, and they were intersecting the railroad right-of-way much farther west than Spur Gulch.

From behind a massive rock beside the shimmering tracks came the sudden sound of a horse's whinny. The man in the lead halted. He thrust

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two fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. Immediately two more masked men rode into view.

"So you got the meddling kids!" one of them boomed. "Great work! We'll get rid of 'em right away!"

"What's your plan?" asked one of the others.

"Toss 'em on the rails!"

From their awkward positions, lying across theif saddles, the boys studied the newcomer. He was a big, heavy-set fellow, just as Jesse Turk was sup< posed to be. Could this be the convict who had so cleverly escaped from Delmore Prison?

The other man shook his head. "I can't go for that method."

"Why not? Let the buzzards destroy the evidence!" He glanced up and gave a short, ugly laugh. "There are a couple of hungry ones up there right now."

"You want us all sent up for life-just when we can get clear?" the other man shot back. "I've gol an idea how to put these smart-alecky kids out of the way and make it look like an accident."

"How?"

"The freight that's coming through here from the west at ten-thirty is hauling refrigerator cars. It's due in an hour. We'll put these bozos on ice!"

"Hey, that sounds like a good deal. I'll go fot that, myself." And the others readily agreed.

"While we're waiting, how about a little chow?"

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one of the men suggested. "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse."

One of the others guffawed. "We'll have two extra nags after the freight goes by!"

Raucous laughter followed this remark, and then the heavy-set fellow spoke up again. "Break out some chow. We'll give these boys their last meal."

As Frank's and Joe's horses were led away from the main party, their guard drew a bowie knife. Dismounting, he slashed the ropes that bound Frank's wrists and ankles.

"Get off and untie your brother," he ordered roughly. "And no tricks! Hear me?"

Frank was only too glad to obey. He unfastened the handkerchief that had been stuffed into his mouth, and hobbled over to where Joe still lay across his mount. While seeming to struggle with his brother's knotted bonds, he whispered furtively:

"Joe, I'm sure two of those men are the ones we captured at Green Sand Lake. Flint and Turk!"

"I think you're right. But we're not going to sit here and let them get away with this, are we?"

"I'll say not! Dad wants these crooks, and we'll get 'em! Soon as we get the kinks out of us, I'll give you the signal and we'll put up a fight."

"Cut it out," the guard shouted. "No talking!"

By the time Joe was untied, their supper was brought to them by another masked man. Seated with a rifle across his knees, he watched the captives

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eat. The boys were hungry enough for a good meal, even though their minds were occupied by the grave danger facing them.

As Joe set down the tin can from which he had been drinking water, he whispered, "Frank, how come they left only one guard over us? Where are the rest of them?"

Frank smiled grimly. "The others wanted to eat, I guess, and you can't eat with a bandanna over your mouth! They don't want us to see who they are."

Hearing their murmuring, the guard turned. "All right, you wise guys, one last warning. You want your gags back on? One more sound outta you, and-" Suddenly he stopped, cocked his head, and let out a loud roar. "Well, we don't have to worry about you much longer. Here comes the freight."

As the train drew nearer, the rest of the gang appeared and surrounded the captives.

"Get ready for your last mile," cracked the brawny man sardonically. "Curtains for two detectives-and one to go!"

The boys winced. By "one to go" the scoundrel could not mean anyone but their father. They must know he was in the vicinity of Spur Gulch! He might even have been captured already!

Crouching behind a low outcropping of rock along the tracks, the men forced the two boys down with them. The railroad ran up a slight grade at

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this place, and the heavy Diesels struggled and churned as they reached the incline. Slowly, the twin locomotives neared the hidden group.

"This'll be a snap," one of the men said confidently. "I'll break the seal on a cooler first, and then-"

Suddenly Frank sprang up. "At 'em, Joe!"

"Hey, what's-"

The man's cry was cut off abruptly as Joe's fist crashed into his mouth. Blood spurted from the man's lip, and he gave a yell of surprise and pain.

Shoving one of their abductors backwards into another and sending both sprawling, Frank turned and butted headfirst into a third.

As they battled against the heavy odds, the boys shouted at the top of their voices for help. But their cries were lost in the thunder of the Diesels as the big engines roared past. No one on the train had seen the ruckus, and now no one could hear it!

Although the Hardys fought furiously, they couldn't handle such overwhelming odds. Subdued, they were held this time in steellike grips. The man who had proposed the refrigerator cars had ridden down the tracks, watching for a "cooler."

As one passed, he urged his horse alongside. The animal kept pace with the moving car while its rider leaned over toward the door. Skillfully he broke the metal seal and yanked open one of the heavy insulated doors.

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As the car came on toward the Hardys, one of their captors said, "Get ready to give 'em the heave-ho!"

The open car drew abreast. Frank and Joe were seized tightly, then heaved bodily up and into the yawning door of the moving refrigerator car. The heavy door slammed shut, and they could hear the bar fall into place on the outside.

Joe was first to corne out of his daze. "Frank! We're locked in," he said hoarsely. "We'll freeze!"

His brother sat up and nodded. "Easy, Joe. We'll have to stay calm if we expect to get out of this alive."

Groggy, they stood up and tried to keep their balance in the pitch-black, chilly car. The only sound was the clackety-clack of the wheels. Frank took a small flashlight from his pocket and looked around. Their prison was filled with crates of West Coast lettuce.

Climbing up and over them, Frank presently came to the front wall of the car. It was damp and freezing cold against his hand.

"Joe! I just remembered something," he said hopefully.

"What?"

"Our scale-model trains. Refrigerator cars have ice compartments at each end, remember? Bunkers."

"That's right. The bunkers open into this section

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near the roof, so the cold air can circulate. What about it?"

"That's our way out! Each bunker has a hatch in the roof, where ice is put in."

Staring upward by the dim light of the pocket flash, they could see that the open parts of the bunkers were covered by wire.

"If we can only cut through that!" Frank said.

"Here's my knife," Joe offered.

Climbing up on the stacked lettuce crates, Frank began hacking away at the wire screen. With only the light penknife, it took time, but finally he made a hole large enough to crawl through. Perched atop a steaming slippery cake of ice, he reached up for the hatch.

It was tightly locked.

"No luck," he called down in disappointment. Once back on the floor of the car, he added, "We have only one more chance-the other hatch."

"Let me try it this time," Joe suggested.

"Okay. Maybe you'll be luckier than I was."

With teeth chattering, Joe sawed away at the wire mesh of the other bunker and worked his way in on top of the ice. Anxiously he glanced up at the hatch. A thin sliver of light showed along one edge.

"Frank!" he shouted exultantly. "This one isn't locked!"

Quickly Joe leaned down over the edge of the bunker and helped Frank climb up into the ice

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chamber. Together they pushed at the hatch cover, but it didn't budge.

"Joe! All your might!" Frank urged. "This is our only chance!"

"My hands are so numb I can't even feel the hatch."

"We've got to make it!"

Bracing their shoulders and arms beneath the hatch, they gave one more mighty heave. This time they forced the cover upward and held it against the rushing wind, as they scrambled out.

A blast of wind nearly threw them off balance. But it was warm air and felt wonderful against their frigid skins.

"Duck down!" Frank yelled. "Less wind resistance. We'd better go up forward, toward the engine, to get some help."

As the Hardys inched forward, dusk began to come on. The train had topped a long grade, and was speeding now to make up for time lost on the hill. The boys swayed as the freight rounded a long curve.

Frank glanced back to see if he could spot any familiar landmarks. Consequently he did not see that up ahead loomed the black entrance to a tunnel. Joe saw it just in time.

"Frank! Get down!"

Falling flat, both boys hugged the roof of the refrigerator car as the train rolled into a long, vault-like tunnel cut through a mountain.

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Several minutes later they emerged, choking and coughing from the exhaust fumes the Diesels had spewed into the tunnel. Despite the gravity of the situation, they couldn't help laughing. They were black with soot from head to toe.

"We sure look like a couple of free-hitching hobos!" Frank remarked.

Joe tried brushing the oily soot from his torn, frayed clothing, but it was no use. It simply smudged into the material and spread even more. He stopped suddenly and looked ahead.

"We're slowing down. Let's run forward and get some help from the crew."

Frank followed, wondering if their luck had changed at last.