The Hooded Hawk Mystery Read Free

open field, Chet asked Frank to let him fly the falcon.
    â€œBetter let me try it first,” said Frank. “I’m not sure how successful I’ll be, since all I know about falconry is what I read in the book.”
    He stopped, unfastened each jess from the swivel, and then, with a somewhat awkward movement of the glove, he threw the hawk into the air. With long, powerful wing beats the falcon circled, rising higher and higher until she was merely a dot above them in the sky.
    â€œNow what?” Chet asked.
    â€œSee this,” said Frank, holding out the feathered lure.
    â€œWhat on earth is that?”
    â€œAccording to the book, the falconer waves this lure in the air and the falcon immediately drops earthward and strikes it.”
    â€œYou mean she’ll come back to that thing?” Chet asked incredulously.
    Frank nodded, watching the hawk intently. “See how she keeps circling us!” he exclaimed. “That’s called ‘waiting on.’ She’ll maintain her pitch there until I call her back, either by waving the lure or flushing a bird.”
    Frank swung the lure several times, then let it drop to the ground. Immediately the falcon turned and plummeted toward them at terrific speed.
    â€œShe’s stooping!” yelled Frank. “Listen to the wind whistle through her feathers!”
    The falcon came within a foot of striking the lure, then swung upward and mounted almost to her previous height in the sky.
    â€œThat was sensational!” breathed Chet.
    The falcon made a wide circle and then headed off with deep, powerful wing beats.
    â€œHey! She’s flying away!” Chet cried out.
    â€œNo,” said Frank. “Look! She’s after something!”
    â€œIt’s a pigeon!” Chet gripped his friend’s arm.
    â€œI’ll call the falcon to the lure,” Frank said tersely.
    But it was already too late. With unbelievable speed the falcon closed the distance and then streaked earthward, striking the pigeon in mid-air.
    The boys saw a tuft of feathers fly and heard the sharp report of the impact. The pigeon dropped to the ground, and the falcon, after mounting from her stoop, dropped down again to claim her prize.
    Frank and Chet went toward the two birds, hoping to rescue the pigeon. Slowly, in order not to frighten the hawk, Frank reached for the jesses. With wings and tail spread, the bird looked defiantly at him but made no attempt to fly off. The boy secured the jesses and put on the leash.
    â€œToo bad,” said Frank, “but the pigeon’s dead.”
    He stroked the hawk, and then slowly lifted both the pigeon and falcon. As he did, he saw a small red capsule on one of the pigeon’s legs.
    â€œGosh, it’s a carrier pigeon!” exclaimed Chet.
    Frank, concerned that the falcon had killed someone’s prized bird, asked Chet to twist the cap off the small container. Chet did so and shook it gingerly over the palm of his hand. To the boys’ amazement, instead of a message, out fell two glittering red stones.
    â€œThat’s strange,” Frank remarked.
    Joe, who had been watching the falcon’s performance, joined his brother and Chet. The trio bent over the stones in Chet’s hands. Frank asked Joe to check the pigeon’s other leg for an identification band.
    â€œNothing here,” he reported.
    Frank rubbed his fingers over the stones and recognized an oily feel to them.
    â€œI believe that these are rubies—valuable rubies!”

CHAPTER III
    Smugglers
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    â€œRUBIES !” Chet exclaimed in amazement. Then he laughed. “You’re fooling, Frank. In fact, if those stones are anything but colored glass, I’ll treat you both to a dinner.”
    Joe grinned. “We couldn’t refuse an offer like that!”
    â€œLet’s get a jeweler’s opinion!” Frank urged.
    Wrapping the stones in a handkerchief, he put them into a pocket of