The Stone Idol by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

Easter Island. They found the capital was a town of tiny houses, where most of the people on Easter Island lived. The hotel was small but modern. After being shown to their room, they debated their next move.
    â€œThere isn’t much we can do tonight,” Frank said. “But we should report to the governor right away. He’s the one who can make sure Santana’s taken into custody when the Inca Chief lands. Anyway, we’ll have to let him know what we’re doing here.”
    â€œYou’re right,” Joe agreed. “Let’s go find him. Shouldn’t be too hard. Hanga Roa is a small place.”
    After getting directions at the hotel desk, the brothers walked to a bungalow south of Hanga Roa where the governor of Easter Island resided. Chile’s flag flew from a flagpole, but there was no activity at the building.
    â€œI guess we’re the only ones who have business with the governor tonight,” Joe said. “Things are rather informal around here.”
    A servant showed them into the official’s office. The governor was a middle-aged man wearing the uniform of a captain in Chile’s army. He shook hands with Frank and Joe, gestured them to be seated, and settled down behind his desk.
    â€œWhat can I do for you?” he inquired in fluent English.
    The boys explained that they were looking for Santana and the stone idol. Frank showed him the photograph of the sculpture that Kimberley had given them.
    â€œI know about this,” the governor responded. “The police called me. I will interrogate Santana as soon as the Inca Chief arrives. The control tower at the airfield informs me that the plane is overdue. Of course, the pilot may have changed his plans or had trouble and set down somewhere else.”
    â€œGovernor, do you know anything about the stone idol?” Frank inquired.
    â€œI never signed a receipt for its removal from the island,” the man replied. “In fact, I never saw it.”
    â€œWe were told a Scandinavian collector bought it,” Joe pointed out.
    The governor shook his head. “I know nothing about this man or how he got the idol. I suggest you see a man named Iko Hiva, who’s the leader of the people of Easter Island. He’s considered a wizard, and if anyone knows anything about the idol, Iko Hiva does.”
    â€œWe’d like to talk to him,” Frank said.
    The governor gave them directions to the man’s home, and the following morning after breakfast, Frank and Joe walked to the outskirts of Hanga Roa. They stopped at a hut with a grinning skull over the front door.
    â€œI wonder who that is,” Frank muttered. “Or was!”
    â€œNo point asking him,” Joe quipped. “He’s not about to invite us in.”
    The boy knocked and heard a shuffling of feet approaching inside of the hut. Then the door swung open. The face of a hideous monster confronted them! Its eyes glared savagely, and its mouth was twisted in an evil leer!

    Startled by the apparition, the boys stood rooted to the spot. Suddenly, the figure’s right hand reached up and pulled the face off. An old man grinned at them. “Welcome!” he said.
    Frank was flustered. “Eh, do you always greet your visitors in disguise, with that awful mask on?”
    â€œIt is the image of one of the ancient gods of Easter Island,” the man said in English. He was slightly built with wrinkled brown skin and coal black eyes. He wore a checkered shirt, canvas trousers, and sneakers.
    â€œI am Iko Hiva,” the man went on without answering the question. “I can see you are Americans. I learned your language at school. Why have you come to see me?”
    The Hardys introduced themselves.
    â€œWe want to talk to you about a stone idol,” Joe explained.
    Iko Hiva shrugged. “I know more about the idols of Easter Island than anyone else. Come in.”
    The boys entered the hut. They found themselves