Read Online The Sign of the Crooked Arrow by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online

crooked arrow!” Chet observed.
    Winger was puzzled. “What on earth could that mean?” he asked. He banked to go back and look at the strange sight again.
    â€œIt looks,” said Frank, “as if the timber has been cut purposely in the form of a bent arrow. Let’s circle around to see if we can spot anything else.”
    â€œOkay with me,” the pilot agreed.
    Winger flew in ever-widening circles. But the dense woodland yielded no signs of habitation and no further markers.
    Finally the pilot came back again to the crooked arrow. Frank nudged Joe, who bent his head closer to his brother.
    â€œDo you see where the arrow points?” he whispered excitedly.
    â€œRight toward Crowhead Ranch!” Joe replied. The two exchanged significant glances.
    â€œI wonder what it all means,” Joe said, puzzled.
    â€œYou’ve got me,” Frank remarked with concern. “But this, together with the phony telegram, seems to prove there is a connection between this area and the gang of thieves. We’ll have to find out what it is, and pronto!”
    â€œI wish we could see if anybody’s down there,” Joe said. “It might be a hideout for the gang!”
    â€œNo chance of landing among these trees,” Frank declared.
    As the pilot headed away from the arrow, Joe noticed a cleared spot beyond the arrow’s head. He was about to bring it to Winger’s attention when suddenly the airplane’s engines began to sputter. Winger looked back at the boys, his forehead wrinkled with concern.

    â€œIt’s a giant arrow!” Joe exclaimed
    â€œI may have to take her down!” he called grimly.
    â€œCrowhead’s not far from here,” Frank said.
    â€œThere’s a field to our left,” Joe put in. “Maybe we could land there if we have to.”
    Winger tried frantically to get the proper response from the engines, but they continued to wheeze and cough.
    â€œDown we go!” he yelled.
    The wind whined against the plane’s surface as the craft, under Winger’s steady hand, made for the clearing. Chet closed his eyes in terror, but the Hardys, fascinated by the pilot’s skill, watched every move.
    The plane banked, its wings brushing the treetops. At last it settled down in the field without mishap.
    â€œWhew!” Chet cried out. “That was too close for comfort!”
    â€œSure was,” Winger agreed. “I just hope we can get out of here again.”
    They all jumped from the plane. Frank, who was a good mechanic, offered to help examine the engines for the trouble spot.
    Before he went to work, he said to Chet and Joe, “How about you two taking a look around to see if you can find out anything about that arrow?”
    â€œOkay,” Joe said, ready for adventure.
    Chet stared at the unknown, and to him, hostile surroundings. He felt no great desire to move one foot.
    â€œA walk will do you good,” Joe urged.
    Chet remained where he was. “I knew it,” he complained. “I come out West for a good time, and the next thing I know I’m in a gangsters’ hideout!”
    â€œThat shouldn’t bother you. How about that judo you learned?” Joe needled him. “You could throw a couple of gunmen right over your shoulder.”
    â€œGunmen?” Chet’s eyebrows shot up. “That settles it. I’ll help on the engine. You and Frank go.”
    It took quite a bit of persuasion on the Hardys part before Chet finally set off with Joe. Cautiously they advanced among the trees, but there was no sign of human habitation.
    It was evident, however, that someone had been there recently because the land in the crooked arrow area had been stripped of all new growth so that the arrow sign could be plainly seen from the air.
    â€œThis spot must be here to mark that clearing we used as an airstrip,” Joe concluded. “Probably for members of the crooked arrow gang. That may have