Mystery of the Samurai Sword

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Book: Mystery of the Samurai Sword Read Online Free PDF
Author: Franklin W. Dixon
enough to be a fast-punching lightweight boxer. His ready grin and magnetic manner also impressed the Hardys.
    â€œActually, the person we meant to ask you about,” said Frank, returning to the purpose of their visit, “is a man named Axel Gorky.”
    â€œAh, yes,” Warlord nodded. “The dealer in Oriental objets d‘art.”
    â€œYou’ve met him?”
    â€œOnce or twice.”
    â€œHe told us last night that he came here to Bayport to call on several customers, including yourself.”
    Again Warlord nodded. “He wanted to show me an eighteenth-century Japanese katana, or long sword. In fact he called me about it this morning, but I told him I wasn’t interested.”
    â€œHow come,” said Frank, “if I’m not too inquisitive?”
    â€œNot at all. It just happens that I’ve got my heart set on another samurai sword, a really beautiful blade that I recently saw in New York. It’s to be sold at auction next week at the Palmer-Glade Galleries in Manhattan, and I intend to get in the top bid!”
    Frank rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Just one thing more, sir. When we spotted this fellow Gorky at the airport, he was acting like an oddball.”
    The Hardys described the incident, and Frank went on, “Gorky claims he was trying to attract Mr. Satoya’s attention, because he hoped Satoya might offer him a good price for the sword.”
    Glancing at Warlord with a frown, the older Hardy boy added, “Does that sound plausible to you? I mean, why should Gorky assume that a businessman like Mr. Satoya would be interested in buying old samurai swords?”
    â€œOh yes, that strikes me as perfectly plausible,” the dancer replied. “You can take my word for it, Gorky’s a smart salesman. In fact I believe Satoya was planning to bid on that very sword I just mentioned—the one at the Palmer-Glade Auction Galleries.”
    â€œWell, I guess that clears Gorky, then,” Frank said. “Thanks for your time and help, Mr. Killian.”
    â€œMy pleasure, boys. I hope you’ll come and see my troupe dance.”
    â€œWe intend to,” the Hardys replied.
    â€œGood! Just phone in and tell the box office which performance you prefer. I’ll see to it that tickets are reserved for you and your dates.”
    The boys drove off in high spirits, but their bubbling enthusiasm was somewhat deflated on arriving home. Fenton Hardy was pacing the living room floor, while their slim, pretty mother sat on the edge of a sofa trying to comfort him. From their parents’ faces, Frank and Joe could tell at once that unhappy news must have struck the Hardy household.
    â€œSomething wrong, Dad?” Frank ventured cautiously.
    â€œI’ve been ordered off the Satoya case!”
    â€œWhat!” both boys exclaimed incredulously.
    â€œWho did the ordering?” Joe asked.
    â€œThe U.S. government,” Mr. Hardy replied. “Supposedly the FBI wants me to handle another investigation. But reading between the lines, the message is perfectly clear, namely, get off the Satoya case! ”
    â€œFor crying out loud! They can’t do that!” Frank exploded.
    â€œThey not only can, they’ve already done it. And I have no choice except to obey, or else risk getting my license lifted.” The famed detective resumed his pacing, grim and tight-lipped.
    â€œBut won’t they give you a reason?” said Joe.
    â€œJust a lot of nonsense about government policy and more urgent priorities.”
    â€œMeaning what?”
    â€œYou figure it out. It beats me.” Mr. Hardy paused and punched his fist into his other palm. His face was a study in angry frustration. “Hang it all, Satoya’s disappearance reflects directly on my worth as a security expert and a private investigator. Unless I can clear up the case, my reputation may be permanently damaged. It amounts to a matter of honor! But what
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