The Mystery of the Spiral Bridge Read Online Free PDF Page B

Joe a piece of paper, which the derelict took into his grubby hands. “I’ll draw you a map where the—er—treasure is,” he said.
    â€œYou mean Milo Matlack?” Joe said quizzically.
    â€œYeah, he’s the treasure you’re lookin’ for, ain’t he?”
    â€œGo ahead. Write,” Frank said.
    The Hardys watched as the pencil moved, outlining a diagram of streets. Mortimer Prince sniffed and rubbed his nose. “Look, you fellows follow the arrow to this place marked X, see? That’s where Matlack is.”
    â€œOkay.” Frank folded the map and tucked it in his shirt pocket.
    â€œNow I’d like some dessert,” Prince said. “Three scoops of ice cream’ll do me.”
    When he was served, the vagrant ate the ice cream with gusto, but paused occasionally to complain that it was too cold for his teeth. To the Hardys’ great relief, he finished soon and stood up, proffering his hand to the boys. “No hard feelin’s. We’re fair an’ square.”
    Frank paid the bill, and the young detectives and their strange guest parted company.
    â€œLeapin’ lizards!” Joe exclaimed as he and Frank set off down the street. “They say you can meet any and all kinds in New York. And boy, I believe it!”
    Frank laughed. Then suddenly he wheeled and grasped his brother’s arm. “Joe, look!”
    Reflected in a store window, next to them, was the monkeylike figure of their rooftop assailant! Both boys swung around. The monkey man, on the other side of the street, stood staring at them!
    Impulsively Joe dashed across the road. A horn blared. Brakes screeched. A taxicab, bearing down on Joe, stopped a hairbreadth from his flying legs. The driver, red-faced, leaned out the window and shook his fist at Joe.
    â€œYou birdbrain! That’s a quick way to get to the graveyard!”
    Frank hastened to his brother’s side, glancing about for the monkey man, but he had disappeared again.
    â€œJoe, next time watch it!” Frank chided him.
    â€œI’ll say,” the angry taximan agreed. “Guys like you make it hard for a man tryin’ to earn an honest livin’.”
    â€œOkay, okay, I’m sorry,” said Joe. “We’ll give you some business, anyhow.”
    The Hardys hopped into the taxi and Frank showed the driver the map drawn by the tramp. “Can you take us to the place marked X?”
    â€œIt’s over on Long Island,” the man said. “Cost you a fat fare.”
    The driver sped off uptown, through a tunnel, and finally emerged onto a broad highway. Presently he turned off and half an hour later slowed down at a small cemetery. To the Hardys’ astonishment, the driver turned into the cemetery entrance, stopped, and pointed to the X on the map.
    â€œThis is it, fellers.” With a wink at Joe and a chuckle, he added, “You got to the graveyard after all, didn’t you?”
    Joe smiled weakly at the gruesome joke. Then the boys paid the driver and stepped out.
    â€œHave fun!” The taximan waved and roared off.
    â€œFor Pete’s sake!” Joe fumed. “I had a feeling that Mortimer would trick us.”
    â€œI wouldn’t say he did,” Frank replied. “Sure, this is a cemetery, but maybe Matlack works here as a gardener or gravedigger.”

    They approached a small brown building marked “Office.” The door was ajar and the boys stepped inside. Behind a desk sat a portly man with a fringe of white hair like a halo about his head, bushy eyebrows, and a hooked nose which reminded the Hardys of the well-known puppet character, Punch.

    â€œAre you boys looking for a relative?” the man asked solicitously. “I’m the superintendent here.”
    â€œNot exactly,” Frank replied, barely smothering a smile.
    â€œWe’re looking for Mr. Milo Matlack,” Joe spoke up “Have we come to the right