The Clue of the Hissing Serpent by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

that really your name?”
    â€œOf course it is. I was born Ruby Smith, but when I married Mr. King, I got the name of the famous chess piece.”
    Mrs. King explained that she had been hired recently from the Museum of Natural History in New York City to become a curator in Bayport. “Oriental art is my field, and I understand you’d like to know more about this particular antique.”
    Suddenly an idea occurred to Frank. “Did Iola Morton tell you?”
    â€œThat’s right. She was in yesterday.”
    â€œYou’re very kind to take such an interest,” Joe said.
    The curator said that the piece had been made in India and carried by caravan to China during the Ming Dynasty. “Of course, it was part of a complete set,” she explained.
    â€œSo we heard,” Frank said.
    â€œBut did you hear about the curse?”
    â€œA curse, really?” asked Joe.
    â€œEvery person who has come into possession of the Ruby King has died under unusual and tragic circumstances,” Mrs. King went on. “The first warlord who owned the piece was struck by lightning the day after he acquired it. Another owner died from poison a week after he bought the King, a third drowned in a flood which carried the Ruby King all the way down the Yangtze River.”
    â€œThen what happened to it?” asked Frank.
    â€œIt was found by a poor peasant who was gored to death by a bull the next day.”
    â€œThen Mr. Krassner better look out,” Joe said. “Do you really believe these fairy tales, Mrs. King?”
    â€œMaybe they’re only legends,” the woman replied. “But I thought you’d like to know about them.” She went on to tell the boys about the game of chess, which originated in India. “Shah mat means The king is dead,” she said. “That’s where we get the word checkmate. The German word for it is Schach matt.”
    While the boys listened intently, Tony, Biff, and Phil waited impatiently outside.
    â€œWonder what’s taking them so long,” said Biff.
    â€œMaybe they got conked,” Tony said.
    â€œLet’s go in and take a look,” Phil suggested. “The fifteen minutes are almost up.”
    The three went inside and were greeted with the same hospitality as the Hardys. When they asked about their friends, they were directed to the room of Ancient Art.
    â€œLet’s enter one at a time,” Biff said. “Phil, you go first. If there’s any trouble, whistle.”
    Phil went in. As he approached the group, Mrs. King was saying, “The curse can be lifted, according to an old story.”
    â€œHow?” asked Frank, waving to Phil.
    â€œIf it’s buried.”
    Joe let out a low whistle. Biff and Tony burst into the room, glancing wildly about. But Phil motioned with his hands. “Calm down, fellows, everything’s all right.”
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Mrs. King asked, surprised.
    The three boys were introduced and the whole thing explained. She laughed, and they resumed their conversation.
    â€œIf the curse can be lifted, why didn’t one of the previous owners bury the King?” Joe asked.
    â€œThat’s the point,” the curator went on. “It must not be buried by the owner, or anyone who knows him.”
    â€œHow is that possible?” Frank asked.
    Mrs. King shrugged. “That’s all I can tell you about the Ruby King. Has it been of any help?”
    â€œVery much so,” Frank said.
    They thanked the woman and left, their footsteps echoing along the marble corridor.
    Outside, the Hardys discussed what they had just heard, then Frank said, “Are you fellows busy this afternoon? I’d like to check out that cabin in the woods. Want to help?”
    The answer was an enthusiastic Yes.
    â€œGood idea,” Joe said. “But first, how about some chow at our house?”
    After lunch of roast-beef sandwiches, topped off with wedges