Read Online The Pentagon Spy by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online

hired the helicopter last night?” Joe queried casually.
    â€œA tall man wearing a black beard and dark glasses.” The clerk consulted his register. “His name is John Jones according to his flying license. He landed back here, paid his fee, and left.”
    When the boys were outside the office again, Frank remarked, “Sounds like a disguise, and the name has to be an alias, too!”
    â€œWell, he couldn’t have been Crow Morven,” Chet pointed out. “Morven was on the ground when the chopper came over.”
    The helicopter was a small model with a single set of rotary blades. The cockpit, protected by wraparound unbreakable glass that allowed a view from side to side as well as in front, had seats at the instrument panel for pilot and copilot. A compartment in the rear permitted a passenger to be squeezed in.
    The rear compartment also held the winch, a spinning drum worked by hydraulic controls. The tail of the helicopter formed a mesh of metal struts, designed to give balance in the air. The landing gear terminate in three wheels, two up ahead and one behind.
    The craft showed signs of use the previous night. There were oil stains on the fuselage beneath the blades and the wheels were caked with mud.
    â€œThere must have been two guys last night,” Frank observed. “The pilot and a man to work the winch.”
    Chet climbed into the back seat and began to spin the winch. “No cable or grappling iron in here,” he informed Frank and Joe, who had gotten into the front. “They must have taken them away.”
    â€œAlong with the Flashing Arrow,” Joe said morosely.
    The Hardys, who were experienced pilots, examined the instrument panel. “I wish we could go for a spin,” Frank said. “I’ll bet this whirlybird works like a charm.”
    â€œWe saw that last night,” Joe reminded him. “The pilot could have landed in our laps if he’d wanted to. I hope he left his calling card in here.”
    They spent half an hour searching the craft for a clue, but all they found were pamphlets on such things as flying rules, airport regulations, and maintenance instructions for the helicopter.
    â€œNo luck,” Frank said disgustedly. “Let’s get out of here.” As he turned, he brushed against the front seats, sweeping a folded piece of paper onto the floor of the cockpit. A flash of red caught Joe’s eye. He picked up the paper and was astounded to see a hex sign!
    Someone had drawn in colored ink the red pentagram in a white square inside a black circle. The three boys looked in fascination at the mystic symbol.
    â€œThat’s Mr. Hammerley’s hex!” Chet burst out.
    â€œIs there anything on the other side?” Frank asked.
    Joe turned the paper over. It said in large printed letters: CHESAPEAKE CROSSING. Apart from that, the paper was blank.
    Chet scratched his head. “I never heard of Chesapeake Crossing. Is it a town?”
    â€œYes, on Chesapeake Bay,” Joe replied.
    The boys descended from the helicopter, and, returning to the office, they told the clerk they were not going to hire the helicopter after all. Then they headed for the police station of the nearby town to ask about the stolen weather vanes.
    The sergeant on duty said, “We haven’t had a break in the case yet.”
    â€œAre there no clues at all?” Frank asked.
    â€œThe only thing we heard from an informer is that there’s a fence for stolen weather vanes in the Chesapeake area of Maryland.”
    The boys stared in amazement but did not reveal their clue.
    â€œOur informer doesn’t know where the fence is,” the sergeant went on, “but the Maryland police are checking on it. That’s all I can tell you.”
    Outside headquarters, Joe commented, “Looks as if we’d better go to Chesapeake Crossing. That may be where the Flashing Arrow is, along with all the other weather vanes that