Read Online The Ghost at Skeleton Rock by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online Page A

the others but Jack raced after him. As the boys ran, they caught a stir of movement in other parts of the field. Several uniformed men were pushing through the throng of people.
    Suddenly a shot rang out, then another! The white-suited man and his companions jerked around, their hands flying toward their hip pockets.
    â€œLa policia!” one of them shouted.
    Whipping out revolvers and automatics, they began shooting back. In an instant the Hardys and their friends found themselves caught in a fusillade of cross fire as bullets whined back and forth through the air.
    â€œWow!” Tony exclaimed as one whistled close to his ear.
    â€œWe’ve walked into a war!” Chet wailed.
    Following Joe and Frank’s example, the others fanned out, but kept on running—in an effort to escape the deadly exchange and catch up to the deliverer of the note.
    One of the gunmen spotted the Americans. He let out a sharp cry in Spanish, which seemed to throw his companions into a panic. The men ran toward two parked cars.
    Bringing up the rear was the mustached man in the white suit who had delivered the note. Joe was now within a couple of yards of him. With a lunge the boy hurled himself in a fierce flying tackle. The white-suited man went down with a thud.
    The other gunmen, already in the parked cars, made no effort to rescue their comrade. They sped off with a roar of exhaust!
    By this time, the police had reached the scene in jeeps to give chase. But a lieutenant and several others stayed behind to take over the prisoner from the Americans.
    â€œCaramba, señores!” the lieutenant exclaimed to Frank and Joe. “You are brave young men to capture, unarmed, such a gunman. In fact, you are all brave señores and I offer you my thanks!”
    â€œGlad to help, but who are these men?” Frank asked.
    â€œRebels plotting against the Tropicale Government,” said the lieutenant. “But if you will be so kind, you will tell me why you were mixed up in this.”
    Frank told his story briefly and the officer urged the boys to accompany him to police headquarters and repeat what had happened.
    When they arrived at headquarters, he introduced them to Lieutenant Garcia and once more the boys told their story. Before the officer could take action, five other members of the rebel group were brought in, two of them injured. One of the getaway cars had smashed into a lamppost while making a turn. All the occupants had been captured.
    â€œA bad business, señores! You see, there have been several uprisings lately,” Lieutenant Garcia explained to the Hardys. “The first took place at Santia, on the southeast coast of our island, but each new raid occurs farther west. We fear the rebels may be moving toward Savango.”
    He explained that the police had learned only a few hours earlier about the group’s latest plan to seize or blow up the airport.
    â€œBut why?” Frank asked. “What’s their purpose?”
    The lieutenant shrugged. “Quién sabe? Perhaps they are criminals, crazy for power, trying to overthrow the lawfully elected government.”
    Meanwhile, the prisoners were being questioned in another room. Frank and Joe were allowed to be present at the interrogation. It was disappointing, because none of the captured men would talk.
    â€œI’ll bet the one we caught won’t tell us anything, either,” Joe whispered to his brother.
    As Frank nodded, the man suddenly raised his hand to mop the sweat from his brow. Joe gasped and clutched his brother by the arm.
    â€œLook!” he whispered.
    On the prisoner’s left forearm, just above the wrist, was a pineapple tattoo!
    The Hardys exchanged excited glances. Did this sign mean that the man was a member of the same racket as the one in Eastern City with the tattoo on the left arm? The boys decided the chances were too slim for them to mention their suspicion to the Tropicale police.
    After the