The Haunted Fort by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

in and soon the “serpent” broke the surface. A minute later it lay on the shore. The boys walked around the huge object.
    Shaped like a brontosaurus with gills, it had been built over a wood-and-wire frame. The “skin” was of inflated rubber, touched in spots with luminous paint. Both the neck and jaws were hinged, and the snouted head had been fitted with two light-bulb eyes and jagged rubber “teeth.”
    â€œIt’s ingenious!” Frank laughed.
    â€œThank you.” The millionaire smiled, patting the wet rubber proudly.
    Chet kicked a pebble, embarrassed. “Jiminy, do I feel like a goof! But what are you going to do with this—er—serpent, sir?”
    â€œYou boys will see, soon!”
    The curious sleuths could learn no more about the redoubtable monster.

    â€œA sea monster!” Chet screamed
    The Hardys arranged with Mr. Ashbach to pick up the bateau at his shop the next day.
    Later, walking back to their room, Chet was preoccupied with Mr. Davenport’s lake serpent. “I bet he’s going to give rides on it!” Chet guessed finally.
    Joe grinned. “Beats me.”
    After breakfast the next morning the Bayporters found the school grounds a beehive of activity. Uncle Jim and the students were busy getting the pictures in final shape for Saturday’s exhibit.
    Hurriedly the Hardys and Chet tidied up their quarters. Frank’s mind kept turning over an idea which had been growing steadily. “Maybe it’s a wild one, but—” Suddenly he dashed from the room. “Come on, fellows!”
    Mystified, Joe and Chet followed him across the grounds to the Davenport mansion. The door was open. Frank led the way upstairs to the musty attic alcove. Joe was excited. What inspiration had struck his brother so forcibly?
    Frank lifted the fort painting carefully onto the table. Chet wore an expression of utter perplexity as Frank pointed to the date on the back of the canvas. “This was the last picture Jason Davenport did. I think that’s why the style is so different—he knew he was going to die.”
    â€œI get it!” Joe exclaimed excitedly. “He must have left the clue in this picture, knowing he’d never have a chance to get the treasure himself,” Joe guessed.
    â€œRight.” Frank now indicated the specklike daubs on the canvas. “Let’s study them from a distance.”
    Frank set the painting against an opposite wall. At first the boys noticed nothing unusual. Then they were startled to see, out of gray and yellowish dabs, a design taking shape in the corner!
    It was a tomahawk, entwined by a chain!
    â€œThe treasure clue!” Chet whooped.
    The image seemed to lose itself as they stepped closer, then to reappear when they stood back.
    â€œThere must be a similar marking somewhere inside the fort!” Joe exclaimed.
    The boys then noticed hat the tomahawk handle had small notches, and wondered what these meant.
    â€œThe main thing is to keep this a close secret,” Frank cautioned.
    When they showed Mr. Davenport their discovery, he congratulated the boys heartily.
    â€œIt was Frank’s brainstorm,” Joe said.
    The art patron looked at the painting. “I should have known Jason had a special reason for using that strange style.”
    The millionaire, too, was puzzled by the notched tomahawk.
    â€œDid Indians fight at Senandaga?” Frank asked.
    â€œThey were involved in the Crown Lake campaigns,” Davenport replied, “but it’s not known whether they played a major role at the fort itself. I’ve studied the battle for years, but there always seems to be a piece missing.”
    The boys wondered if the chain-entwined tomahawk had any relation to the mysterious fort conflict?
    â€œWe’ve got to get inside Senandaga,” Joe declared.
    The boys hurried to tell Uncle Jim the good news, and their plan to search the fort that evening. Chet then