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cover for the van, he drove to a point higher up the mountain and parked in the woods.
    Then the boys sneaked down to the lighthouse, which was only two stories high since it stood on a plateau overlooking the Mediterranean. The trees and bushes surrounding it indicated that it had been abandoned for years. The sea was no longer visible from where it stood.
    Frank pointed to five motorcycles lined up along the base of the structure, half-hidden in the bushes. One of the machines had a twisted left handlebar.
    â€œThe guy who tried to strangle the desk clerk must be inside!” the young detective whispered to his brother. “The same one who tried to push us over the cliff.”
    â€œAnd he’s got some of his friends with him,” Joe responded in the same undertone. “We’d better be careful. ”
    The thick underbrush gave the Hardys all the cover they needed to sneak up to the lighthouse. Carefully parting a bush with their fingers, they peered through the open window into the single lower room of the building.
    Five men were seated in wooden chairs around a table. All were wearing leather jackets, rough pants, and heavy boots. Their crash helmets lay on the table in front of them.
    â€œOnly a few more days,” one of the men said admiringly to a tall, dark-haired companion, “and you’ll be Michael Linos, dictator of Rubassa!”
    The boys recognized his voice. He was the man who had told them over the telephone to come to the Beacon.
    Linos grinned. “Liberator, Roger, not dictator. Anyway, I’ll sure be glad to quit my job as porter at the American Embassy. It’s been one big pain in the neck!”
    Joe nudged Frank. “He’s the spy Dad was telling us about!”
    Frank nodded but did not reply as Linos continued, “And then I’ll get myself a new bike. That twisted handlebar makes for a very uncomfortable ride!”
    â€œHow come you never replaced it after the accident?” another man inquired.
    â€œSuperstition,” Linos replied with a chuckle. “When Colonel Palos and his agents almost caught me and I had to ride across that chasm to the other side of the mountain, I vowed to keep the bike that served me so well until the revolution was over. Too bad I took that awful spill and twisted the handlebar.”
    The Hardys heard the sound of a motorcycle thundering up the road. The driver careened through the bushes, parked the bike at the head of the line along the wall, and entered the lighthouse.
    He walked into the room and removed the crash helmet. A mass of blond hair tumbled out, framing the face of a woman in her late twenties!
    Frank and Joe gasped. She was Norma Jones, the cook from the Egyptian Museum in New York!
    Norma smiled at the men. “You can start your revolution any time now!” she said triumphantly.

10
    The Runaway Van
    â€œAll the weapons have arrived,” Norma Jones informed the gang. “They’re already stored in the basement of Reggie’s house.”
    â€œThat’s it!” Joe murmured. “The secret room in the basement. I knew there was something fishy when he didn’t want me to go in there!”
    â€œI phoned Reggie,” Norma went on, “to hold the arms until further notice.”
    Frank elbowed Joe and whispered, “The message on the piece of paper I saw in the bedroom!”
    â€œExcellent,” Linos congratulated Norma. “You’ve done a great job finding money and buying weapons for us.”
    â€œIt took some doing,” Norma admitted.
    â€œHow’d you manage?” one of the men asked.
    Linos smiled. “Tell Carlo about it. He just got here yesterday and wasn’t in on the details.”
    â€œI sold the stolen artifacts from the Egyptian Museum to a private collector,” Norma explained. “Then I bought the arms on the international market and had them shipped to Milbin, where the government is friendly to us. From