THE MISSING CHUMS

Something is amiss in Bayport, the Hardy boysâ€™ home town. First, there is trouble in Shantytown, then a strange black craft tries to ram Joe and Frankâ€™s boat, the Sleuth. That night the local bank is robbed. And later that same night the young detectivesâ€™ pals, Chet Morton and Biff Hooper, mysteriously disappear after a masquerade party.

Are the events related? And do they emanate from Shantytownâ€”or from Hermit Island, an isolated land mass inhabited for many years by a strange recluse? Is it significant that both the missing boys and the bank robbers wore masquerade masks? Or is it more important that Chet was wearing a costume identical to Frankâ€™s?

One by one, Frank and Joe tackle the clues, hardly daring to think what might have happened to their missing friends. But it is not until the two brothers confront the kidnapers that the overall pattern begins to emerge. The kidnapers ruthlessly plan to force Frank and Joeâ€™s famous detective father into choosing between justice and his sons!

How the Hardy boys use all their courage and skill to outwit the criminals provides an exciting climax to one of the most baffling mysteries the young detectives have ever encountered.

âI hate to think what that costume means,
if itâs a signal,â Joe said

Copyright Â© 1990, 1962, 1955, 1928 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights

reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc., a member of The Putnam &
Grosset Group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. .S.A.
THE HARDY BOYSÂ® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.

eISBN : 978-1-440-67318-4

2006 Printing

http://us.penguingroup.com

CHAPTER I

Exciting Assignment

âJOE, how soon will you be ready to roll?â Frank Hardy burst into the garage where his brother was working on a sleek, black-and-silver motorcycle.

âRight now, if this machine kicks over,â Joe replied, putting down a wrench. âBut whatâs the rush? Weâre not going to meet Chet and Biff for two hours.â

Joe looked up quizzically at his brother.

âChief Collig phoned,â Frank said. âYouâll never believe it, but he has a case for us.â

âYouâre sure he didnât mean Dad?â Joe asked. Fenton Hardy was a widely known private investigator. His sons had learned from him about sleuthing, and acquired a great deal of skill.

âPositive. He said he wanted the detectiveâs sons this timeâand right away.â

âWow!â Joe exclaimed happily. âWhat a break! Summer vacation and a mystery to solve!â He swung into the saddle and kicked down hard on the starter. A roar filled the garage and he grinned in satisfaction.

Dark-haired, eighteen-year-old Frank had jumped onto an identical motorcycle, standing beside that of his blond brother, who was a year younger. The two machines roared out into the hot morning sunlight. Ten minutes later the boys arrived at police headquarters in downtown Bayport.

They were greeted by the desk sergeant. âHello FrankâJoe!â He waved them toward the chiefâs office. âHeâs waiting for you.â

âCome in, boys,â boomed Chief Collig through the open door. He was a vigorous, middle-aged man with iron-gray hair. âIâll get right to the point. Thereâs something funny going on in the squatter colony at the end of the bay.â

âYou mean Shantytown?â Joe asked, referring to a settlement of shacks on the ocean shore north of Bayport. The odd community was composed mostly of men who had seasonal or temporary jobsâand some who did not work at all.

Chief Collig nodded. âThe men there seem to be in an ugly moodâviolence and fighting at night. The charitable landowner who permits them to stay there wants us to investigate, but itâll have to be an undercover job because those drifters recognize the police.â

âAnd thatâs where we come in?â Frank guessed.

âYes. I want you to put on old clothes, muss your hair, and hang around Shantytown for a while. See if you can discover whatâs been stirring up the group. Will you do it?â

âWill we!â Joe exclaimed without hesitation. He turned to Frank and added, âChet and Biff arenât due at the boathouse for an hour. Letâs take a look at Shantytown.â

âThanks, boys. Be careful,â Chief Collig said as they hurried from the office. Outside, Frank and Joe mounted their motorcycles and rode through the downtown traffic to the Bayport waterfront.

Leaving the big commercial piers behind, they took the Shore Road, past a section of private docks to where the brothers kept their trim speedboat, the Sleuth. Driving on, the Hardys followed the road along the curve of the left bank of the bay to the mouth of the harbor. Here they turned north and continued parallel with the ocean.

Soon they saw a jumble of board shanties on the wide beach ahead. Some were nothing more than open lean-tos, but others had glass windows and stovepipes. Pieces of ragged clothing fluttered from ropes in the breeze. Smoke curled up lazily from a small fire around which three men lay, watching the steam from a black pot which hung on a tripod above the flames.

The boys parked a distance away and observed them intently. âLooks peaceful,â Joe commented.

âA lot of them must be away at work,â Frank remarked. âRemember, the trouble comes at night, when theyâre all here together.â

After studying the quiet scene for a few more minutes, Frank said, âWeâll come back later.â

The brothers turned their motorcycles around and headed toward the outskirts of Bayport, where the many private docks lay. Brightly painted cabin craft and sailboats with slender masts rode at mooring floats.

Seeing a yellow jalopy parked in front of the Hardy boathouse, Joe remarked, âChetâs here.â

Frank and Joe parked their motorcycles beside his car, named the Queen. A broad-shouldered, good-looking boy stepped through the small side door of the boathouse. He held a key, one of the duplicates the Hardys had given to their close friends.

âHi, Biff!â Frank greeted him. âWhereâs Chet?â

Biff Hooper answered in an unnaturally loud voice and winked at them. âWhyâuhâheâll see you soon.â

âWhatâs up?â Joe whispered.

Biff merely shrugged and kept on grinning. The Hardys knew some joke was in the making!

Frank asked in a low tone, âHave you opened the bay door yet?â

Biff nodded. âAnd unmoored the Sleuth.â

Frank raised his voice and continued talking with Biff, at the same time motioning to his brother to tiptoe to the boat door.

Joe chuckled, took a bamboo pole from against the boathouse, and picked his way across the cat-walk to the front. He peered in, then upward.

Jammed between the rafters and the ceiling was plump Chet Morton! He was looking the other way, toward the small door.

Silently Joe unmoored the Sleuth, and using the pole, pulled the craft halfway out of the boathouse, leaving a clear surface of water beneath Chet. Then Joe playfully jabbed at his friend with the bamboo pole.

âYow!â Chet bellowed. There followed a great splash, and a geyser of water drenched the inside of the boathouse, as the chubby boy went under. A second later he popped to the surface, just as Frank and Biff ran in.

âWhy, Chet, what are you doing in the water?â Frank asked, pretending astonishment.

âAs if you didnât know! Whereâs Joe?â

âRight here, Chet,â he said.

âAll right, you turned the tables,â Chet sputtered good-naturedly as they hauled him out of the water. âI was going to scare you. Biff, did you give me away?â

âOf course not.â Biff laughed. âIf Iâd known it was a swimming party, Iâd have worn my trunks!â

Chet grinned and began peeling off his wet shirt. âGood thing I wore my trunks under my clothes,â he said.

In a few minutes his wet garments were drying in the stern of the Sleuth while the powerful craft, with Joe at the wheel, cut smoothly through the waters of Barmet Bay. The boys munched on sandwiches, which Chet had brought along.

âSay, how about a camping trip, fellows?â Biff suggested. âWe could go to some of the islands along the coast.â

âThis boat would hold plenty of provisions,â Chet chimed in.

âWe can explore Hermit Island,â Biff went on. âI heard that the old man who owns it lives there all alone.â

âAfraid we canât, fellows,â Frank answered. âWe have a new case.â Quickly he told them about it.

Biff whistled appreciatively but Chet groaned. âEver since you solved The Tower Treasure mystery, our lives havenât been the same.â

With a twinkle in his eyes, Biff said, âChet was hoping that would be your first and only case.â

âThe last one you took on was nearly the death of me,â Chet grumbled. He was referring to his adventures with the Hardys while solving The Secret of the Old Mill. âFrom here on,â he declared, âjust leave me out of any mysteries!â

His friends laughed, knowing how Chet hated to be left out of anything.

âYow!â Chet bellowed

âToo late,â Joe told him. âWeâre heading for Shantytown to take another look-see.â

By now the speedy craft was far out on the broad bay. The water had grown choppy and was turning from green to steely gray. In the distance the boys watched a cluster of white sails skim ming before the breeze.

âA race,â Biff observed.

âHey! Look out!â Frank cried sharply.

A black hull, parting the water in white sheets at its prow, was bearing straight down on the Sleuthâs rear on the portside.

Frank shouted and waved frantically at the oncoming boat. âCut her, Joe!â

Still the strange craft roared along toward the boys. At the last moment it came about, throwing a heavy bank of water aboard the Sleuth. For a moment the two boats sped forward, gunwale to gunwale. The name Black Cat was on the prow of the strange boat.

âNot so close!â Frank shouted angrily. The pilot ignored the warning. He was a swarthy man with black hair combed straight back. At his side sat a huge man with a bald head.

Calling on the Sleuthâs reserve of power, Joe shot the craft forward, veering to the right. The boys looked back with satisfaction as the black boat dropped behind.

Facing forward again, Joe caught his breath in horror. Directly ahead loomed the great white sails of the racers, bearing down on them swiftly. He cut the wheel frantically to the left.

âHang on!â he yelled. âWeâre going to hit!â

CHAPTER II

An Evening of Mystery

INSTANTLY Frank grabbed the steering wheel held by his brother. He twisted it violently and pulled out the throttle at the same time.

For a moment the Sleuth banked hard and balanced on her side, while the huge tilting sails hovered overhead!

Oneâtwoâthreeâtourâdark sailboat hulls sliced safely across the speedboatâs boiling wake as she shot outward into the bay.

âWow! That last one only missed us by a foot!â Biff exclaimed.

âOh, boy, letâs not do that again!â Chet said shakily.

âYou okay, Joe?â Frank asked as he slid back to his side of the boat.

âYes, thanks to you! Where did the Black Cat go?â

âThere she is!â Biff shouted.

Looking around, the brothers saw that the other speedboat had veered in plenty of time to run easily before the sail craft. The big, bald man was pointing to the boys and laughing.

âBank her again, Joe!â Frank cried angrily. âWeâre going after those men!â

âI canât!â Joe shouted back over the roar of the engine. âShe wonât respond to the wheel.â

Already a quarter of a mile of open water separated the two boats. Helpless, the four friends watched the black craft race away.

Meanwhile, the Sleuth shot ahead at full speed, her handsome prow lifted clear of the water.

âDo something!â Chet cried. âWeâll run aground!â

âNo, we wonât,â said Frank, who had noticed the curving white swath of their wake. âWeâre going in circles.â

The Sleuth, her steering mechanism disabled by Frankâs emergency turn, was clearly completing a wide circuit.

âWe might as well save gas,â Joe said, throttling down. âOne thingâs sure. We wonât make Shantytown today.â

Glumly the four sat still while the distant shores seemed to rotate around them. To the east, where the bay opened toward the sea, a grayish mist lay over the black water.

âLook at that fogbank,â Biff said. âI hope weâre not stuck here when it rolls in. It would be mighty hard for anybody to find us.â

âI donât think that pea soup will move in before dark,â Frank said, but there was a note of concern in his voice.

âWeâre supposed to go to Callieâs costume party tonight,â Chet reminded the others, âso weâd better get out of this mess soon!â

Suddenly the boysâ attention was diverted by the high whine of a motorboat plowing toward them across the water.

âMore trouble?â Chet muttered.

âTrouble, nothing!â Joe exclaimed. âItâs the Napoli! Hi, Tony!â

The four companions waved wildly at their friend and in a few minutes a yellow speedboat idled up alongside the Sleuth.

âThought it was you,â said dark-haired Tony Prito from behind the wheel.

âWhy are you fellows running in circles?â asked Jerry Gilroy, who sat beside Tony.

âOur steeringâs fouled up,â Joe reported briefly. âGive us a tow, will you, Tony? Iâll tell you about it on the way in. Chet, letâs have that line back there!â

Taking a coil of rope from the stout boy, Joe scrambled onto the prow of the Sleuth. He secured the line at the bow, passed it to Jerry in the Napoli, and then climbed into Tonyâs boat himself. While the Sleuth bobbed along toward Bayport in the wake of the Napoli, Joe told the new-comers of the near collision.

Twenty minutes later the six friends stood together on the dock of the Bayport boatyard while a mechanic examined the Sleuth.

âYou think the fellow tried to sideswipe you on purpose?â Tony Prito asked.

âYes, I do,â Frank said. âThey saw us clearly and heard us shouting, but they came straight at us, anyhow.â

âMaybe something went wrong with their boat,â Tony suggested. âIt could have been an accident.â

âAccident!â Chet Morton snorted. âYou should have seen the look on the bald manâs face after we skinned past that last sailboat. They were out to get us all right.â

âBut why?â Jerry inquired. âDid you ever see them before?â

âNever!â Joe stated positively. âBut I certainly hope we see them again!â

âWeâll report this to the Coast Guard,â Frank said. âThey may want to talk to those two men.â

Just then the young mechanic joined the group. âYou have a damaged rudder,â he reported to the Hardys. âIâve fixed it temporarily, but youâll need a new part to do the job right. Itâll take a day or two for me to get it. Bring your boat back then.â

âIâll follow while you take the Sleuth to your boathouse,â Tony volunteered. âThen we can all go to the Coast Guard station in the Napoli.â

After the Hardysâ craft had been safely moored in their boathouse, Tony headed the Napoli out into the bay. He turned and followed the shoreline to the long jetties where the freighters were docked.

Soon the Napoli passed under the gray bow of a big cutter moored at the Coast Guard pier. Tony made his boat fast, and the six boys climbed up a steel ladder onto the dock. They entered the small, neat station office, which had a short-wave tower on its roof.

The officer on duty rose from his desk. âHello, FrankâJoeâfellows,â he greeted them. The personnel at the Bayport station knew the Hardys well. More than once they had cooperated with the boys and their father on cases.

âHello, Lieutenant Parker,â Frank said gravely. âWe want to report a near collision caused by a powerboat named the Black Cat. Can you tell us who owns her?â

Quickly Frank gave an account of the incident while the officer took notes. Then a seaman who had been listening brought over a heavy ledger, which he spread open on the desk.

Lieutenant Parker ran his finger down the list of names and licenses of speedboats on the bay. âNothing here, fellows,â he announced, looking up. âShe must have come in from an outside port. Have you noticed a boat like that in the last week or so, Thompson?â

The seaman thought for a moment. âNo, sir,â he answered. âBut thereâs been a big regatta going on up the coast for a couple of days. She may have run down from there.â

âWeâll go up and find her!â Joe put in eagerly. âWhat town is it?â

âNorthport.â

âNot so fast,â Frank said. âDonât forget our other business, Joe.â

âYou win,â Joe replied with a rueful grin, âbut I hate to seeââ

âWeâll have our patrol boats keep a lookout for the craft,â the officer promised. âIf we find it, Iâll call you.â

It was late afternoon when the Napoli plowed through rough water on her return to the Hardy boathouse. To seaward, the wall of mist had mounted higher and moved in closer, so that now it seemed almost at the harborâs mouth.

âThe fogâs coming in fast,â Jerry remarked as Frank, Joe, Chet, and Biff disembarked. The Hardys thanked Tony for his help.

âThatâs okay,â he replied. âItâs getting late. Weâd all better go home and get ready for Callieâs party.â

âDonât forget your costume,â Joe called as the Napoli churned away. He turned to Chet and Biff. âHow about you, fellows? Are you all set for the masquerade?â

âI am!â The fat boy chuckled in anticipation. âWaitâll you see what Iâm going to wear!â

Biff grinned. âEven you detectives wonât know us.â

âWe just have time to pick up our costumes from Mr. French before he closes,â Frank noted.

A few minutes later there was a clatter as Chet backed his jalopy onto Shore Road and he and Biff drove off.

The Hardys kicked their motorcycles into life and started toward town. When they reached Bayportâs main street most of the stores were closing.

âWeâre in luck!â Frank declared as he parked in front of the costume store. âItâs still open. Mr. French has a couple of customers in there!â

The boys hurried toward the door. Through the wide shopwindow they could see the tall, spare proprietor, with thinning blond hair and a small graying mustache. He was talking earnestly to two men whose backs were turned. None of them noticed the boys.

As Frank pushed open the door, Mr. French stopped speaking. The taller of the strangers raised his voice and said in an ugly tone:

âWell, youâre in this now, French, and donât you forget it!â

CHAPTER III

Faces in the Fog

THE door clicked shut behind the Hardys and the speaker whirled. He was a slight man with gray hair, pale skin, and small dark eyes. His brow was furrowed in a deep scowl, but in a flash he assumed a genial smile.

âHello there. You startled me. I didnât hear you come in.â

His companion was short and darkly tanned, with almost white-blond hair. He gave a little laugh and nodded. Even Mr. French assumed a thin smile, though his eyes had a worried and uncertain look.

âSorry to interrupt,â Frank said, âbut weâve come for our costumes.â

âYou didnât interrupt anything, fellows,â the blond man assured them. âJust a little standing joke we have with Mr. French. Weâve known him for years. But every time we come to town he says he wonât go out for a good time with us. So we have to get tough with him. Isnât that right, French?â

The shopkeeper smiled weakly and stammered, âYes ... of course ... thatâs right.â Nervously he fingered a small costume box on the counter in front of him. Then, to Frank and Joeâs surprise, he added, âThese are the sons of the famous detective, Fenton Hardy. Excuse me, Iâll get their costumes.â He hurried into the back room.

Both strangers looked steadily at the boys a few moments before the gray-haired man spoke up. âI recollect that your father was once an eminent member of the New York City police force.â

âThatâs right,â Frank replied.

âAnd havenât you young lads received attention in the public eye for your own exploits?â

Frank and Joe looked uncomfortable at the flattery. Before they could answer, Mr. French returned with two cardboard boxes. He opened one and took out a hairy-skinned gorilla costume. Its ferocious head was a rubber mask to fit over Frankâs head.

âGoing to a party, eh?â asked the white-haired man.

âWhere will the festivities be held?â inquired the other.

âAt a friendâs house,â Frank replied evasively.

âOf course.â The man gave him a hard look. Then, taking the small costume box from the counter, he said, âWell, we wish you a pleasant evening, young gentlemen. Good night, Mr. French!â

With a cheery wave of the hand, the gray-haired stranger went out the door, followed by his short companion. As they walked past the window, the Hardys looked them over carefully.

âIs my suit ready too, Mr. French?â Joe asked, after the men had passed from sight.

âYesâthe magicianâs outfit. Here it is.â

The shopkeeper opened the other box and held up a rubber mask with a long nose, sinister slanting eyes, black mustache, and goatee. Joe looked at it for a moment with approval, then returned it to the box.

âWeâll bring the costumes back tomorrow,â he promised, and the brothers left the shop.

âSomething queer was going on in there,â Frank said as they placed the boxes in the carriers of their motorcycles.

âI think that gray-haired fellow was threatening Mr. French,â Joe declared. âOld friends, my foot! Did you notice how Mr. French tried to cover it up?â

âMaybe he didnât dare do anything else,â Frank suggested. âHe looked scared to me. Letâs ask him about it tomorrow. He might be in some kind of trouble.â

âOkay,â his brother agreed as they mounted their motorcycles. âBut weâre going to be busy on that Shantytown case.â

Minutes later, the two motorcycles swung into the Hardy driveway. âSay, I have an idea!â Joe said, as the boys left the garage together. âLetâs put on our masks and give Mother and Aunt Gertrude a surprise.â

Frank chuckled. âIâll ask whatâs new at the zoo.â

The brothers pulled the false faces over their heads and went to the front door. As Joe pressed the doorbell, chimes sounded within. The boys thrust their faces forward.

After a pause the door was opened by a tall, thin woman whose angular frame froze momentarily to stiff attention. Her mouth opened and closed twice. On the third try her voice succeeded.

âYouâre repulsive! Go away!â she cried and slammed the door.

The brothers burst into laughter. âPoor Aunt Gertrude!â said Frank. âIt isnât often we can fool Dadâs smart sister!â

The door opened again, revealing a handsome man with the build of an athlete. âWhatâs going â?â Then he began to laugh. âOkay, you nuts. Come in.â Frank and Joe ripped off the masks and walked into the living room.

âYou!â Aunt Gertrude exclaimed.

âWeâre sorry, Auntie,â Frank said. âJoe and I didnât mean to scare you so badly. These are masks weâre wearing to a masquerade party tonight.â

Mrs. Hardy, their slim, attractive mother, smiled. âThey are realistic. No wonder you were frightened, Gertrude!â

When Miss Hardy was mollified, the family sat down to a delicious chicken dinner. Between mouthfuls, Frank and Joe told about the near collision on the bay and of their conference with Chief Collig.

âIt could be an important case,â Mr. Hardy said. âGood luck.â

But his sister had other ideas. âI donât like it in the least,â she declared. âTwo young boys among those roughnecks in Shantytown!â

âFrank and Joe know how to take care of themselves,â Mrs. Hardy said. âDonât worry.â

âIâm warning you,â Aunt Gertrude said to the boys. âOne of these days something terrible will happen to you! Just remember I told you so.â

Seeing the teasing twinkle in Joeâs eye, Mrs. Hardy spoke up quickly before he could reply. âWhereâs the big party tonight?â

âCallie Shawâs,â Joe answered. âFrank canât wait to see her.â

âOh-ho!â his father teased. âAnd I suppose you, Joe, wonât look for Iola Morton as soon as you get there?â

The brothers grinned at the mention of the two girls they liked best.

âCallie and Iola are giving the party together,â Frank explained. âThat reminds me, Joe. Weâre supposed to pick up the ice cream!â

A short time later, as Frank and Joe stepped from the house, they noted the gray, leaden sky overhead.

âLooks as if that fogbank has moved in from the bay,â Joe commented. âItâll be thick downtown.â

After stowing their costumes in the carrier behind Frankâs motorcycle, the two boys set off for the center of Bayport. White wisps of fog swirled in the glare of their headlights and almost blotted out traffic. Both riders slowed to a cautious pace.

At last the boys maneuvered to a stop in Milton Place just off Main Street. Through the fog and gathering dusk, vague lights could be seen in the big brick building on the opposite corner.

âTheyâre working overtime at the bank,â Joe pointed out and grinned. âCounting the extra money they took in during evening hours.â

The brothers walked around the corner onto Main Street and entered a soda shop. Minutes later they emerged, each carrying a two-gallon drum of ice cream packed in dry ice.

âWow! This is cold!â said Joe, as they turned into the alley.

Frank and Joe placed the cylinders in Joeâs carrier. âNow for the party!â Frank grinned.

Suddenly they heard a harsh grating noise and looked down the narrow street to see a heavy side door swing open in the bank building. There was a clatter of footsteps on concrete, and four men hurried from inside, carrying white sacks. Their faces looked like those of hideous beasts!

For an instant the Hardys stood paralyzed with surprise until Frank cried out, âItâs a bank robbery!â

In a split second the men dived into a waiting sedan. Its powerful engine roared. As the getaway car moved down Milton Place through the mist, a bank custodian raced out and fired his revolver at one of the carâs tires, but missed.

âLetâs tail âem, Joe!â cried Frank, leaping onto his motorcycle.

CHAPTER IV

A Daring Getaway

FRANK and Joe gunned their motors and took off down the narrow street after the bank robbers. Tires screamed as pursuers and pursued careened through the fog-filled streets toward the Bayport waterfront district. Through the haze, the boys could see the red taillights of the bank robbersâ car.

âTheyâre heading for the docks!â Joe shouted as he recognized the long, dark shapes of warehouses on both sides of the murky street.

The fleeing car shot out onto a wide pier, lighted at intervals by yellow fog lamps. Ahead, a four-foot wire fence barred motorists from the pierâs end.

â¢ Brakes squealed sharply. In the amber glow, the Hardys saw the four doors of the thievesâ car pop open at once. Five dark-coated figures piled out and jumped the fence.

The Hardysâ motorcycles screeched to a halt behind the empty getaway car. âStop!â shouted Frank, leaping off. âHelp! Police!â

A clatter of footsteps sounded far out on the jetty. Frank and Joe vaulted the fence and sprinted in pursuit.

The sound of heavy breathing told them they were nearing their quarry. But as the boys reached the end of the long pier a powerful boat engine suddenly roared to life.

There was a churning of water, a whiff of gasoline smoke, and the sound of men jumping into the boat. Then the craft gained headway in the darkness of the bay.

âWe can still stop them!â Frank exclaimed. âThe Coast Guard stationâs on the next pier. Come on, Joe!â

The boys dashed back, cleared the barrier, and ran past their motorcycles. Suddenly they heard shouts and footfalls approaching along the pier.

Omph! With stunning impact, Joe collided head-on with a running man.

âLook out!â Frank shouted as strong arms grasped him.

âHalt!â a voice ordered. âWeâve got you!â A whistle pierced the air. For a moment all was confusion. âNowâwhatâs going on here?â demanded the authoritative voice.

âLet us go! Bank robbery! We need the Coast Guard!â Frank said, gasping.

âWe are the Coast Guard,â replied the voice, and a flashlight shone through the fog. âWhy, itâs the Hardy boys. Release them, men,â said Lieutenant Parker.

âWe heard somebody shouting for police,â he added. âWhatâs this about bank robbers?â

After Frank had explained, the officer said, âIâll dispatch a cutter after the bandits right away.â Lieutenant Parker and his men raced off.

Moments later, a police car sped onto the pier, its siren wailing and red top light blinking. It stopped and three uniformed men leaped out.

âThereâs the car!â cried one of the men. Even in the heavy fog, Frank and Joe recognized him as the bank guard who had fired the shots after the fleeing robbers. âThe crooks got into that car, and then these motorcycles raced off with them.â

Suddenly he spotted Frank and Joe. âThose are the bodyguards who rode the motorcycles. Grab âem!â

A grim-faced policeman, gun in hand, ordered Frank and Joe to come forward. Apparently he and the officer with him were new members of Bayportâs police department, for the boys had never seen them before.

âAll right, what do you two have to say about this?â the patrolman demanded. Again Frank told what had happened.

The policeman turned to the guard. âIs that the way it was?â

âYesânoââ the man stammered, highly excited. âThe robbers had on hats and pea jackets. And they wore horrible-looking masks.â

âLook at this!â called the second policeman, who had been examining the car and the motorcycles. He came over, holding up the gorilla face in one hand and the magician mask in the other. âThese were in the carrier of that cycle. I guess weâve got two members of the gang.â

âNow wait a minute!â Joe began, but the wail of a siren cut him short.

Two more police cars arrived and heavily armed men poured from both cruisers.

The first officer to reach the group was Chief Collig. âWe got your radio call!â he told the policemen briefly. âAny sign of the bank robbers?â

âTwo of themâright here!â the man replied. He jerked a thumb at the Hardys.

Joe stepped forward quickly into the beam of yellow fog light. âHello, Chief!â

âFrank! Joe!â Collig cried out in astonishment. âHow did you get here?â He faced the startled rookies and said, âThese boys are all right.â

âBut,â one of the men protested, âaccording to the bank guard the thieves wore masks. And we found these on one of the cycles.â He handed Chief Collig the false faces.

âYouâll find four gallons of ice cream, too, Chief,â Frank put in. âWeâre on our way to Callie Shawâs masquerade party.â

The chief laughed heartily, but quickly became serious again. âAny suspicion of these boys is nonsense. Now, what about the bank robbers?â

Quickly Frank told him all that had happened.

âI guess it was too foggy to see their getaway boat,â the chief said gloomily.

âThatâs right,â Joe answered, âbut from the sound of it, Iâd say it was an open speedboat, with a powerful inboard motor.â

There was the ringing of bells and the deep rumble of engines from the next pier.

âThe Coast Guard is taking the cutter,â Frank said. âBut even their powerful searchlights wonât pierce through this pea soup.â

âTheir best bet is to crisscross the bay and perhaps close in on the robbers,â Joe added.

âAnd for that a little boat is as good as a big one,â Frank said excitedly. âJoe, do you think the Sleuth is in good enough shape to take out?â

âItâs worth a try,â his brother assented.

Chief Collig nodded approvingly. âThe more boats we send out, the better our chances,â he said. âIâll dispatch the police cruiser, too.â

Frank and Joe swung onto their motorcycles and roared off the pier and along the Shore Road toward their boathouse as fast as they dared in the heavy fog.

Guessing they were near the private docks, the boys pulled off the road and parked. Each took a flashlight from the carrier of his motorcycle.

After a short walk they found their boathouse. Joe reached the small door and took out his key. He gave a cry.

âThe lockâs broken off!â

âWhat!â Frank exclaimed.

He swung the door open and beamed his flashlight inside the building.

The Sleuth was gone!

CHAPTER V

Dancing Gorillas

FOR A moment Frank and Joe stared at the empty boathouse unbelievingly. âIâll bet the bank robbers stole the Sleuth!â Joe exploded.

âIf they did,â Frank said with a grim smile, âthey may be surprised. That rudder is only temporarily repaired. It wonât last long.â

âLetâs go after them!â Joe urged. âWeâll call Tony to bring the Napoli.â

âOkay,â Frank said. âHeâll be at Callieâs now.â

The Hardys hurried to their motorcycles and headed back toward town. When they reached the piers, they stopped at a public telephone booth outside a warehouse. Joe dialed the call and returned after a short conversation.

âTony will meet us at the Coast Guard station,â he reported to Frank. âCome on!â

When the Hardys walked in they found that Chief Collig had turned the place into a temporary headquarters. He was questioning three bank tellers who had been brought there at the chiefâs request. One teller was giving his account:

âThe four men must have hidden in another part of the bank. Just after we closed tonight, the robbers rushed into the main room together. Three came to our cages and forced us at gun point to put all the money into their sacks, while the fourth went to the side door. Then they warned us to keep still, and backed out the door. Our vault custodian fired after their car, but had no luck.â

âCan you describe just one of the gang?â Collig asked wearily. âAny one that sticks in your mind? Was he short or tall? Fat or skinny?â

âI already told you,â the man said doggedly. âThey were all the same size.â

âBut blast it, man, thatâs impossible!â the chief exploded. âI donât have four identically built men on my whole force!â

âThey were all the same size,â the teller repeated, growing sullen. âThey wore masks.â

Shaking his head, Chief Collig turned from the teller. His eyes fell on Frank and Joe. âBack so soon?â he asked, surprised.

Frank told him about the stolen Sleuth. âThe bank robbers used a speedboat for their getaway,â Joe added. âIt might have been ours.â

âHas the cutter had any luck on the bay?â Frank asked.

âNothing yet,â the radio operator spoke up. âTheyâve been calling in every ten minutes.â

While Joe reported the theft of their boat to a Coast Guardman, Frank asked whether any dues had been found in the thievesâ car.

âNot even a fingerprint,â was Chief Colligâs answer. âWe checked on the vehicle, of course. It had been stolen in Northport.â

Just then Tony Prito entered the crowded station, exclaiming, âIt looks like a police convention outside, with all those prowl cars!â

âHi, Tony,â Joe greeted him.

âThanks for getting here so fast!â Frank said.

The three boys left the station at once, ran across the pier, and scrambled down a ladder into the Napoli. Tony started his motor, switched on his running lights, and throttled cautiously into the bay.

The surface of the water was smooth and the air was warm. The fog, however, was thicker than ever. Tony tried his spotlight but even this did not penetrate the murk for any great distance.

âSuppose we zigzag along shore about half a mile out,â Joe suggested. âThe Coast Guard will cover the middle of the bay.â

The Napoli moved steadily through the night. The boys could see nothing.

âWe need our ears for this job,â Frank said finally. âShut her off a minute, Tony.â

The steady purr of the motor ceased and the craft drifted noiselessly. Far to seaward, outside the harborâs mouth, a deep-voiced foghorn rasped its warning at regular intervals.

âNothing,â Joe muttered disgustedly. âStart her again, Tony!â

âWait!â Frank ordered. âThereâanother boat!â

âI donât hear it!â Tony whispered.

âItâs very high-pitchedâjust a tingle. Turn her out into the bay, Tony. Run full throttle until I say stop.â

The Napoli shot forward, roaring through the fog.

âStop!â Frank cried out.

Again came the sudden, hushed silence. Only the wake of the Napoli washed audibly behind them. But now all three boys heard the sound of a boat engine.

âYou were right,â Joe whispered. âI think it is the Sleuth. Listen!â

The high-pitched whine drew slowly closer, then gradually receded. Soon it approached again.

âSheâs going in circles!â Joe chortled gleefully. âHead toward her, Tony.â

âSure. But which way?â

âTo the right,â Joe said promptly.

âStraight ahead!â Frank countered.

Tony started his engine and headed midway between the two directions. He drove steadily forward until Joe signaled to cut it again.

The other craft was very near them and over the motorâs purr they could hear angry voices.

âIt wonât work!â one cried out. âTry it yourself!â Another shouted, âMove over, then!â

Frank, Joe, and Tony listened, grinning, while the men argued about the disabled boat. Suddenly the Sleuthâs motor was silent.

âTheyâre drifting away,â Frank said quietly.

Although Tony followed in the direction he thought the other boat was taking, the voices grew faint. Desperately Tony opened his throttle wide, then shut off the motor again to listen. The voices had ceased.

âThe men must have heard us,â Joe whispered. âThey probably know theyâre being chased.â

For a time the eerie pursuit continued, but at last Frank said, âItâs no use. They could have drifted a mile away by now.â

âOr they could be five feet from us,â Joe whispered. âWeâll never find them in this fog.â

âBesides, weâre low on gas,â Tony added, and turned the Napoli toward Bayport.

âJoe and I will come to the party later,â Frank told Tony. âI think Dad would like to hear our account of the bank robbery.â

After dropping Frank and Joe at the Coast Guard pier, Tony returned his boat to its mooring and went back to Callieâs house. Meanwhile, the brothers, dejected, cycled home. Opening the front door, they found their father in the hall taking his hat from the rack. Mr. Hardy stopped short.

âTell me what you know about the bank holdup,â he said crisply. His sons stared in surprise.

Then Frank grinned. âI guess Chief Collig told you about us, didnât he?â

âYes,â replied Mr. Hardy. âHe just phoned to ask my help. Iâm on my way downtown. Brief me quickly.â

The detective listened with keen interest while his sons poured out the story of the robbery and the missing Sleuth.

âOne thing is odd,â Frank added when they had finished. âThe tellers swear the thieves were all the same size and build.â

Fenton Hardy smiled. âThatâs not so strange.â

âYou mean the men were identical in size?â Frank asked.

âNot at all,â their father answered. âBut a large mask will make a personâs body seem smaller. A tiny face mask can make him look bigger.â

âSo the robbers used the masks to disguise their builds as well as their faces,â said Frank.

âExactly,â his father answered. âIt sounds like a very clever gang.â

At that moment Aunt Gertrude came into the living room. âFenton,â she said, her voice sharp with disapproval, âthere was a special news bulletin on the radio just now saying that youâve taken on the Bayport bank robbery case.â

âSo I have,â Mr. Hardy replied mildly, though the boys knew he was an expert at this. âAt least to help the local authorities,â he added.

âBut why do they announce it?â his sister asked tartly. âThe bank robbers may hear it, and who knows what those dangerous men might do to make you drop the case!â

âDonât worry, Gertrude,â Mr. Hardy replied kindly. âIâll be careful. Thanks for the information, boys,â he added, and hurried off.

Aunt Gertrude eyed Frank and Joe suspiciously. âWhat are you two going to do now?â she demanded.

âNothing dangerous, Auntie,â Joe assured her. âWeâre just going to Callieâs party.â Satisfied, Miss Hardy watched the boys depart.

âAunt Gertrudeâs right, you know,â Frank remarked as they walked to their motorcycles in the drive. âItâs too bad about that radio bulletin. Dad is safer if he works under cover.â

A short ride brought Frank and Joe to the Shaw house. They parked their motorcycles beside the garage and quickly put on their costumes. Carrying the two containers of ice cream, the gorilla and the magician walked to the door, where they were admitted by a smiling Mrs. Shaw.

âHello, boys. Come right in! Iâll put the ice cream away.â

When the Hardys entered the big living room they were hailed by a camel with four human legs, Spaceman Prito, and many other fantastic figures.

Pretty, brown-haired Callie was dressed as a fairy princess, and slim, vivacious Iola as a page boy. The two girls hurried forward to greet the late arrivals.

âTony told us about the robbers and the chase,â Callie said.

âWeâre glad you got here!â Iola added warmly.

A fierce pirate strode up to them. âIâm Black-beard Biff Hooper,â he announced. âHowâd you like to walk the plank?â

Before Frank could answer, there was a ferocious roar behind him and a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He whirled to find himself face to face with another gorilla!

âTold you Iâd surprise you!â came Chet Mortonâs voice. âCome on, Gargantua! Letâs dance!â

The two hairy creatures joined hands and waltzed around the room to the music of the record player. They pirouetted, leaped in the air, and did somersaults. The other guests watched, shrieking with laughter. Panting, Chet yanked off his tight-fitting gorilla face.

âOops!â he exclaimed ruefully. âI tore it.â

Frank examined the rubber mask. âToo bad,â he said with a grin. âYouâll have to wear your own face from now on.â

Later, as the guests ate, they listened, fascinated, to the Hardysâ account of their adventure. Finally, about midnight, everyone began to leave.

As Frank and Joe were saying good night to the girls, Chet came over to them. âBiff, Tony, Jerry, and I have decided to go camping tomorrow. Weâre using Mr. Hooperâs boat. Sorry you fellows canât come.â

âWeâll make it next time,â Joe promised.

Iola said to Chet, âYou can go on home and drop Biff at his house. Iâm staying overnight here.â

âOkay, Sis.â

Frank and Joe departed, and soon after returning home, they were sound asleep. Two hours later the ringing of the telephone jarred the silence of the Hardy home. Frank awoke and picked up the extension phone.

âHello.â

âFrank?â The speaker was Mrs. Morton. âIs Chet there? He hasnât come home yet!â

âNo, he isnât here,â Frank answered. âHe probably went to Biffâs.â

âIâll try the Hoopers,â Mrs. Morton said. âSorry to have awakened you.â

As Frank replaced the telephone, he glanced at his wrist watch. It was two oâclock.

âFunny Chet didnât phone his folks,â he thought.

A second later the phone jangled again and he picked it up. âFrank Hardy speaking.â

âThis is Mrs. Hooper,â said a worried voice. âIs Biff with you?â

Frank sat straight up in bed. âIâm sorry, he isnât here,â he replied. âIâll call some of our friends and see what I can find out.â

Biffâs mother gratefully accepted the offer. âOh, thank you. Iâm so worried about him.â

As Frank put down the phone, Joe mumbled sleepily, âWhatâs the matter?â

âMatter? It looks as if plentyâs the matter. Wake up! Chet and Biff are missing!â

CHAPTER VI

A Perilous Slide

STARTLED by the news, Joe sat bolt upright in bed. âChet and Biff gone?â

âThey vanished after the party.â

âWho was that on the telephone?â suddenly asked a deep voice. In the doorway stood Fenton Hardy in a robe.

Quickly Frank told his father and Joe about the calls from Mrs. Morton and Mrs. Hooper. Mr. Hardy promptly dialed police headquarters, and identified himself to the desk sergeant.

âHave any accidents been reported since midnight?â he inquired. As he listened, the lines of his forehead relaxed.

âNone,â he reported to Frank and Joe. Then the detective explained the situation to the officer, who promised that the police would look for Chet and Biff.

After putting down the phone, Mr. Hardy asked his sons, âIs there any place the boys are likely to have gone?â

âThey were planning to go camping early this morning,â Joe recollected, âstopping at different islands along the coast. Maybe they decided to go tonight instead.â

âI doubt itâin this fog,â Frank objected. âAnd not without telling anyone.â Nevertheless, he dialed the Hooper home to make sure.

âOh, no,â Biffâs mother replied to Frankâs question. âMr. Hooper carries the boathouse key with him. If Biff and Chet had wanted to leave earlier, they would have had to get it from him.â

Frank tried not to show his mounting alarm. Hoping he sounded cheerful, he said, âWeâll keep looking for the boys.â After saying good-by, he turned to Joe and his father. âThis is serious. I hate to disturb Callie, but Iâll have to now.â He dialed her number. Callie herself answered sleepily.

âSorry to bother you so late,â Frank said. âBut will you do me a favor? Peek out the window and see if Chetâs jalopy is there. It was parked under the street light.â

After a short pause he turned to Joe and his father. âItâs still there! ... Callie, when did Biff and Chet leave?â He listened a moment. âThanks. We canât locate them.... Nothing wrong for sure yet. Weâll call you tomorrow.â Frank hung up and said worriedly, âThey left the party ten minutes after we did.â

Joe snapped his fingers. âIâll bet they couldnât get the jalopy started. Theyâre probably spending the night with one of the fellows who lives on Callieâs street.â

Frank looked relieved. âLetâs go over and check the jalopy.â The boys began dressing.

âHave you a key to the car?â Mr. Hardy asked.

âChet gave us one,â Frank explained.

Fifteen minutes later the boys drove up quietly in their fatherâs sedan and parked behind the yellow jalopy. Quickly Frank slipped into the driverâs seat, and a moment later the Queen coughed and rattled into life. Abruptly he cut the motor and the two brothers looked at each other soberly.

âI was wrong,â Joe said. âThey didnât have car trouble. What did happen?â

Frank shook his head grimly. By the light of the street lamp the boys examined the jalopy, the curb and road around it, but found no clues. Using their flashlights, they checked the Shawsâ yard and porch.

âNothing here,â Frank said finally.

The porch lights blinked on and Callie appeared in the doorway. âFrankâJoe, what are you doing?â she asked.

âLooking for clues,â Joe replied. âBut we havenât found any yet.â

âChet and Biff had their costumes on when they left, and carried the masks,â Callie said. âThey looked so conspicuous, they should be easy to locate.â

âWeâll keep trying,â Frank promised.

He used the Shaw phone and called each boy who had been at the party. Chet and Biff were not with any of them, nor had Tony or Jerry heard from them.

Finally the Hardys headed for home. They gave their father the discouraging report and reluctantly went back to bed.

After a few hours of uneasy sleep, Frank and Joe awakened to find bright sunlight filling the room. Hurriedly they dressed and dashed downstairs. Their father was already at the breakfast table.

âAny news of Chet and Biff?â Frank asked.

Mr. Hardy shook his head soberly. âThe police have found no trace of them.â

âIf only we knew where to start looking!â Joe said worriedly. âBut we havenât a single clue to go on.â

âThe State Police are searching, too,â Mr. Hardy told them. âA lead may turn up before the day is over. I hate to mention it,â he added, âbut the boys might have been kidnaped. So, to be on the safe side, thereâll be absolutely no publicity.â

âGood idea,â Frank agreed.

For a minute he and Joe sat in glum silence. âWhat about the Sleuth?â Joe asked finally.

âThe Coast Guard hasnât found it yet,â Mr. Hardy replied, âand there are no leads on the bank robbery, either.â

âHow about the stolen car?â Frank queried. âWho owns it?â

âA man living up the coast,â his father answered. âIt disappeared day before yesterday while he was at a boat regatta in Northport.â

âA boat regattaââ Joe murmured. âWhere have we heard of one lately?â

âAt the Coast Guard station,â Frank prompted.

âThatâs it! Seaman Thompson thought the boat that tried to ram us might have come down from the regatta in Northport.â

âLooks like Northport might furnish a lead to more than one mystery,â Frank declared. âLetâs take a run up there and see if we can pick up a clue.â

âIf I go up the coast, I want to go in the Sleuth!â Joe answered firmly. âWe must find her!â

At this point, Mrs. Hardy brought the discussion to an end by setting before each boy a stack of steaming, golden-brown pancakes.

Aunt Gertrude came in behind her with a block of yellow butter and a tall pitcher of maple syrup. âThere are more cakes on the griddle,â she said. âYou need your strength. And for goodnessâ sake, find those poor lost boys!â

âIf we can helpââ Mrs. Hardy began.

âThanks,â Frank said.

After breakfast the brothers hurried to the garage. âThe bank robbers must have beached the Sleuth somewhere,â Joe reasoned. âIf we follow the shore, weâre sure to find her.â

The black-and-silver motorcycles backfired like pistol shots, then roared from the drive and down High Street. The riders headed out Shore Road, past the private docks.

The fog of the night before had given way to a bright-blue summer morning. As the boys sped along in a cool, salty breeze they watched the white sand of the beach on their right. There was no sign of the Sleuth.

Finally they reached the head of the bay and turned sharply, following the seacoast northward. For a while Frank and Joe saw only the big green rollers of the Atlantic as they broke into foaming white along the sand and rocks.

The brothers spotted the squattersâ colony of slapped-together board dwellings ahead.

The cycles chugged up Shore Road, which rose and twisted along the top of high, rocky cliffs along the sea.

âLook down there!â Joe called out suddenly. He had caught the glint of sunshine on a familiar hull. The Sleuth! It was stranded on the beach!

âYippee!â exclaimed Frank. âThe robbers must have floated her in at high tide.â The boys parked their motorcycles and hurried to the edge of the bluff. Below them, the rocky cliff fell straight down to the boulders bordering the sand.

âI donât see a path,â Frank said. âWait! Hereâs a place we can go down.â

As he leaned over the edge, a mass of loose sod and stone gave way at his feet. With a startled cry Frank slid downward. Desperately he grasped for a hold, his clawing fingers closing on a sharp slab jutting out just below the lip of the bluff. His body hung a hundred feet above the rocks and sand below.

âHang on!â Joe shouted, and whipped his extra-long leather belt from its loops. Lying flat, he inched downward over the cliff edge until he could pass the leather under Frankâs armpits. He slid the end through the buckle and pulled the belt tight.

Joe squirmed back again, braced himself, and hauled. For one sickening moment Frank swung like a pendulum beneath the cliff. With all his strength, Joe jerked the belt again and a moment later helped Frank clamber to safety.

âWhew! That was close!â Frank said, gasping. âIf it hadnât been for youââ

âBetter leave the boat,â Joe panted, retrieving his belt. âWe can come by sea with the Coast Guard and get her.â Still shaking from fright, Frank agreed.

Joe helped Frank clamber to safety

The brothers went at once to the Coast Guard station on the pier. When Lieutenant Parker heard Frankâs story, he called two men and led the way to a patrol boat. The powerful craft headed straight out the mouth of the bay and turned sharply up the coast.

The beach was a whitish line on their left. Soon it broadened, and the tumble-down buildings of Shantytown came into view.

âWait! Wait a minute!â Frank called out. âCan we slow down? Whatâs that white thing floating in the water?â

âA dead fish,â suggested a Coast Guardman. The patrol boat throttled down and slid nearer the object. Leaning far over the side, Joe lunged and scooped it from the sea.

âThis isnât a fish!â he cried out excitedly. âItâs a rubber mask turned inside out!â

As he spoke, his fingers moved nimbly. In an instant a limp gorilla face appeared.

âThis belongs to Chet!â Frank exclaimed.

CHAPTER VII

Dangerous Beachcombing

FRANK took the mask from Joe and examined it carefully. âYouâre right. Hereâs the place where Chet ripped it at the party.â

âBut whatâs it doing floating in the bay?â asked Joe in great concern. âHe and Biff must have gone out in a boat after all.â

âBut whose?â Frank queried.

âAnd why would they go out in the fog?â Joe added. Then he voiced the question uppermost in both their minds. âYou donât think they could have drowned?â

Frankâs face was grim. âChet and Biff are excellent swimmers. Maybe, for a reason we donât know yet, theyâre hiding somewhereâperhaps Shantytown!â Frank gazed intently across the water at the squatter colony, now falling astern.

âCould be,â Joe said. âThey knew about our case. Maybe they picked up a clue and landed in Shantytown. Weâd better find out as soon as we get the Sleuth.â

The boys lapsed into worried silence until the Coast Guard boat came within sight of rocky cliffs towering high above the white beach.

A seaman scanned the shore with binoculars and sang out, âThere she is, sir! Itâs the Sleuth, all right. I can read her name.â

The engines of the cutter shuddered as it swung in toward the beached motorboat. The Hardys whipped off their shoes and leaped overboard into thigh-deep water as the craft crunched against the sandy bottom. Joe was the first to reach the derelict Sleuth.

âShe looks okay,â he called out to his brother.

âYes, but high and dry,â Frank said as he waded ashore.

âWeâll help you float her,â a seaman offered.

Quickly gathering large pieces of driftwood, the boys improvised a crude skidway. Then, with the Coast Guardmen helping, they slid the boat down to the water. A towline was secured and the Sleuth bobbed toward Bayport in the wake of the Coast Guard patrol boat.

âLetâs tow her straight to the boatyard,â Frank suggested. âMaybe they have the new part by now.â

His guess proved correct. While the patrol boat waited, the young mechanic quickly examined the Sleuth.

âHave you been using her?â he asked the Hardys.

âWellâsomebody has, Charlie,â Joe replied.

The mechanic nodded. âHmâthought so. The temporary repair I made didnât last. But if you keep turning the wheel, you can make her steer a littleâenough to get by.â

âThatâs how the bandits slipped away in the fog last night,â Frank whispered to his brother.

âIâll be finished in an hour,â Charlie said. âShall I have her taken to your boathouse?â

âRighto,â Frank replied. âWeâll pick her up there.â

The Hardys rode on the patrol boat to the Coast Guard pier, thanked Lieutenant Parker and his men for their help, and hastened to their motorcycles.

âI wish the Sleuth were ready now,â Joe said impatiently, âso we could go right to Shantytown.â

âBut first we have to round up beachcomber disguises,â Frank reminded him.

The boys rode home and changed into dry clothes. While Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude were preparing lunch for them, Joe called police headquarters. He learned that there were no new leads on their friends or the bank robbers.

Chief Collig was amazed to hear about the discovery of Chetâs mask. âThe boys may be nearer than I thought. Iâve already sent out a seventeen-state missing-persons alarm.â

âWe might find more clues in Shantytown,â Joe told him. âWeâre going there next.â

Directly after lunch, Frank and Joe bounded upstairs, pulled out some old shirts and pants, and hurried down again. As they passed through the hall carrying the clothes, their mother and aunt looked out from the living room in surprise.

âWhere are you going?â Aunt Gertrude inquired.

Mrs. Hardy asked, smiling, âNot another costume party? I returned your gorilla and magician suits this morning.â

âDid you explain to Mr. French about Chet and Biff? Heâll wonder why they donât bring their costumes back,â Joe said.

âHe wasnât there,â Mrs. Hardy replied. âI left your outfits with the clerk.â

âWhere are you boys off to?â Aunt Gertrude demanded again.

âWeâre going sleuthing in Shantytown,â Frank replied. âProbably we wonât be home to supper.â

Aunt Gertrude stared in disapproval. âEven foolhardy young detectives get hungry,â she said tartly.

âIâll pack your supper,â their mother offered. Aunt Gertrude and the boys followed her into the kitchen where the two women quickly prepared a package of food for the boys to take along.

âYou and Auntie certainly move fast, Mother,â Joe said admiringly. âThanks a lot.â

âYes, we appreciate it,â Frank chimed in.

Mrs. Hardy smiled. âWe know youâre in a hurry.â

The boys went out the back door and hastily stowed the food and clothing in their motorcycle carriers.

âWe must put in the make-up kit from the lab,â Frank reminded his brother. With Fenton Hardyâs help, Frank and Joe had fitted out a small modern crime laboratory over the family garage. Joe hurried upstairs to it and soon emerged with the kit, which he put in the carrier.

When they reached their boathouse, the boys found the Sleuth there. By the time the craft emerged, she carried two entirely different-looking young men.

Frankâs face was smudged and his dark hair was tousled. He wore a battered straw hat and a striped jersey with a long rip in the back.

Joeâs normal suntan had been made even darker by the use of make-up. A fake tattoo decorated his right arm. His trousers were torn off at the knees.

Both boys wore tennis shoes bursting at the sides. They carried burlap sacks appropriate for beachcombing.

âLetâs land about a mile this side of Shantytown,â Frank suggested. âWe can wander toward it along the beach.â

Soon Beachcomber Joe, at the wheel, ran the Sleuth into a little cove. Drawing her up between two rocks, they camouflaged the craft with pieces of driftwood and dry seaweed.

âNow,â said Joe, âif we can just find another clue to lead us to Chet and Biff!â

Frank nodded. âAnd at the same time learn whatâs behind the fighting in Shantytown.â

Trying not to appear hurried, the two boys sauntered along with their sacks. The midafternoon sun threw a white sparkle over everything

âthe curling waves, the sand, and even the gray, bleaching driftwood. Now and again Frank and Joe would stoop and put a handful of shells, bits of rope, or a few pebbles into the sacks.

âSome beachcombing!â Joe grinned.

At last the Hardys entered the squattersâ village. The first huts were merely tarpaulins stretched across driftwood poles. But as the boys strolled along, they saw that several of the many shacks were of wood, well constructed, with solid, padlocked doors.

A few men were lounging about, smoking. Frank and Joe passed near a group roasting potatoes in hot coals before one of the huts. The men paid no attention to the Hardys as the boys moved on.

âIf Chet and Biff are here, they could be in any of these shacks!â Joe muttered in a low tone. âHow can we get a closer look?â

The young sleuths were walking between the waterâs edge and the first row of huts. Near them a man stood in the water wringing out a shirt.

âLetâs drift up to the next shack,â Frank suggested.

The boys approached a solidly built shanty. Abruptly the door swung open. A thin, seedy-looking man with faded red hair stepped out in the sunlight and stared at them with hard blue eyes. As the Hardys returned the look, the fellow moved toward them.

âWhat are you doing here?â he challenged harshly.

âJust walking along the beach,â Joe returned in a tough-sounding voice. âLooking for junk.â

âYeah? Well, get out of here and do it some place else. See?â

âThis is a free country,â Frank retorted, also speaking in a tough tone. âWeâll walk here if we feel like it.â

Instead of answering, the man reached into a back pocket and pulled out a blackjack. He lunged at Frank with the agility of a cat.

âCut it out, Sutton!â barked a voice. The new-comer, a broad-shouldered young man, darted between Frank and his assailant. A boxerâs hand chop sent the blackjack flying to the sand.

Sutton muttered under his breath, clenched his fists, and glared at the tall man. He was young and strong, with a blond crew cut.

âIf youâre looking for trouble, Iâll give it to you,â the big fellow said meaningfully.

Sutton dropped his eyes and turned away. He retrieved his weapon and disappeared behind his shanty.

Relieved, Frank said, âThanks a lot, Mr.ââ

âCall me Alf,â was the friendly reply. âI was wading over there when I saw Sutton go for you. Youâd better stay away from this place. Weâve had a lot of trouble lately.â

âWell, thanks again, Alf,â Frank said warmly as he shook the huge, hard hand. âYou sure saved me a lump on the head. Iâm Frank, and this is my brother Joe.â

The three strolled along the beach. âSo thereâs been trouble in Shantytown lately,â Joe repeated, hoping to learn more from their new acquaintance.

âYes. Sutton and his pals have been the ones making it, too. All they do is fight among themselves. Shantytown wouldnât be such a bad place, otherwise.â

âDo you live here, Alf?â Frank inquired.

âMe?â The man laughed good-naturedly. âNo, but I work on the docks and I know some fellows who work in town occasionally and live here, so I come out a lot on my hours off.â

By now the three had reached the far edge of the colony. âIâve got to see a fellow,â Alf told them. âLook out for Hank Sutton when you go back. If he tries anything, just yell for AlfâAlf Lundborg.â

The young giantâs friendly act and his open face made Frank decide to trust him. âMaybe we can help you sometime, Alf,â he said. âOur name is Hardy, but we donât want anyone in Shantytown to know it.â

âNobodyâll hear it from me,â Lundborg replied. âSay, if youâre going to be around for a while, why donât you eat with my friends and me?â

âWeâd like that,â Frank said. âHowâll we find you?â

Alf reached into his pocket. âJust listen for this,â he replied, opening his hand. In the palm lay a harmonica. âSee you around,â he said and moved off.

When Alf Lundborg had gone up the beach, the brothers retraced their steps. While picking up more stones and shells, they scanned the sand carefully for anything that might belong to their missing chums. This time they took care not to venture too close to Suttonâs shanty.

âThereâs our âfriend,â â Frank said in a low voice.

Stealing a glance toward the hut, Joe saw Sutton standing at one corner, talking earnestly with another man. His companion was listening with obvious impatience. He shifted his weight and suddenly turned full around. The Hardys saw that he was short in build, and had black hair combed straight back.

âThat man!â Joe whispered. âItâsââ

âI know!â Frank took his brotherâs arm and hurried him toward the beach. âItâs the speedboat driver who almost rammed us! Whatâs he doing here?â

CHAPTER VIII

Postcard Puzzle

âKEEP going,â Frank advised Joe. âIf we turn around for another look, that powerboat pilot may recognize us!â

With bent heads, the young detectives shuffled along the beach between the ocean and the first line of squattersâ shacks. If the stranger with the dark, combed-back hair noticed them at all, he saw only two ragged beachcombers wandering back in the direction of Bayport.

âSo, the fellow who rammed us hangs around Shantytown!â Joe burst out.

âYes,â Frank added thoughtfully, âand heâs friendly with the chief troublemaker there.â

âBut why should one of Suttonâs pals try to ram the Sleuth?â Joe puzzled. âBecause he found outâor suspectedâweâd be investigating Shantytown?â

âPossibly,â Frank replied. âAnd if Chet and Biff are prisoners here, the men donât want us to find out! Theyâll do everything to keep us away.â

Joe whistled. âIf thatâs true, we must find them. Iâm scared about what may have happened to them.â

âMaybe weâll pick up some clues tonight,â Frank said. âItâs almost suppertime. Letâs go back and watch Suttonâs place.â

When the boys returned to the group of shacks, they saw some of the men drifting in from work, and others tending cooking fires.

Behind Suttonâs shanty was a deserted shack. Frank and Joe slipped inside and settled themselves by a broken window. Although they stayed at their post an hour, they saw no sign of activity.

âSuttonâs probably eating somewhere else,â Frank said. âLetâs find Alf and come back later.â

As the boys stepped outside they heard a lively tune from a harmonica. Following the sound of the music, they found Alf playing for a small group of rough-looking men, seated around a fire.

When Alf finished the song, he introduced the boys and the laborers by first names. The men looked the Hardys over and nodded.

âThe stewâs done,â a big red-faced man said, taking the lid from a large kettle. âPitch in!â

As the men began to serve themselves on tin plates, Frank and Joe reached into their bags and took out the food they had brought. They unpacked a pound of frankfurters, rolls, two cans of beans, and apples.

âHelp yourselves,â Frank invited cordially.

âLooks good, boys,â said the red-faced man, whose name was Lou. âMost of us are hungry enough to eat two suppers.â

By the time the last crumb had disappeared, the men had warmed up to Frank and Joe and willingly answered their seemingly casual questions about Shantytown. None of the men, however, knew what the fights were about, nor had they seen two strange boys.

âWeâll keep our eyes open for âem,â Lou volunteered. He took some driftwood from a bushel basket beside him, and threw two pieces on the fire. Then he tossed a piece of dark cloth after it.

âWhatâs that?â Frank asked sharply. He grabbed a long stick and hooked the cloth from the blaze.

âItâs just some junk I picked up,â Lou answered.

Frank dropped it to the ground and the brothers eagerly examined the piece.

âItâs a sleeve from Chetâs gorilla outfit!â Joe whispered excitedly.

âI thought it looked familiar,â Frank said. To Lou he said, âItâs part of a costume. Where did you find this?â

âBehind Suttonâs shack,â the man replied.

âIs it important?â Alf asked the boys.

âIt definitely links our missing friends with Shantytown,â Frank replied, as he put the sleeve in his burlap bag. âCome on, Joe! Letâs gro back to Suttonâs place.â

After thanking the men for their hospitality, the boys hurried off into the darkness.

âBe careful,â Alf called after them. âYell if you need help.â

The Hardys found the shanty dark and padlocked. They circled it cautiously, but there was no one around. Joe knocked on the door. âChet! Biff!â Frank called. Not a sound from inside. Again Joe pounded and both boys called repeatedly.

âItâs no use,â Joe said finally. âIf they are inside, theyâre probably bound and gagged.â

âLook for an opening between the boards,â Frank instructed. The boys pulled out pencil flashlights and examined the side of the shack.

âIâve found a knothole,â said Joe.

âAnd hereâs a chink. Iâll shine my light in while you look through the hole.â

Joe watched the slender beam shift around the dark room. âEmpty,â he declared, disappointed. âLetâs look for more of Chetâs or Biffâs belongings.â They searched the sand around the shanty, but found nothing.

âLetâs hide in the deserted shack again,â Frank suggested. âIf Sutton comes back with any of his pals, we may overhear something important.â

Patiently the young detectives waited and watched, but their quarry did not return. Frank consulted his watch. âItâs almost midnight. Maybeââ

âSh!â Joe interrupted. âListen!â

They heard footsteps and saw a dark figure approaching Suttonâs shanty. The stranger knocked several times. Finally a neighbor opened his door. âYou lookinâ for Sutton?â he asked.

âYes,â replied the unknown caller. âAll I know is he went off in a car with a dark-haired fellow. I heard Sutton say he wouldnât come back tonight.â

Without a word the caller disappeared into the darkness. The door to the shack slammed shut.

âThatâs that,â Frank said in disappointment. âLetâs go back to town and report to headquarters.â

âYou bet. Frank, do you suppose Chet and Biff were here but have been taken away?â

âItâs a good guess.â

The boys covered the mile of beach to their boat, quickly pulled off the improvised camouflage, and launched her. Frank headed down the coast toward Bayport and the Hardy boathouse. When the boys had debarked, they donned their street clothes again. Carrying their burlap bags, they emerged from the boathouse and mounted their motorcycles. It was well past midnight.

When the Hardys reached police headquarters, they were amazed to see Chief Collig in his office. He looked tired and somewhat dejected.

âIâve been working night and day on the bank robbery case and the mystery of your friends,â he said. âIâm afraid that the boys have been kidnaped.â

âThatâs what we fear,â Frank said. He showed the gorilla head mask and sleeve of Chetâs costume and told of the boysâ run-in with Sutton.

âIâll send men out there to make a thorough search,â Collig said.

âWeâll go with them!â Joe volunteered eagerly.

âWeâd better not,â Frank countered. âOnce the men at Shantytown see us with the police, we wonât be able to work under cover there.â

Regretfully, Joe agreed.

Chief Collig rose, strode around the desk, and clapped each of the young sleuths on the shoulder. âThanks, boys! Youâve brought in the first two leads Iâve had on this case,â he said. âIf we find Chet and Biff, Iâll call you at once.â

Frank and Joe hurried home through the silent streets. When they let themselves into the house, they saw a light in Fenton Hardyâs upstairs study. Frank knocked.

âCome in,â called the detective. When his sons entered, he pushed aside some papers on his desk. âWhat did you find out today?â

He leaned back in his big leather chair and listened carefully as his sons gave an account of their dayâs progress.

When it was finished, their father said, âIf Collig doesnât find Chet and Biff in Shantytown tonight, and they were kidnaped, their parents should receive ransom notes soon.â

âPerhaps they will come tomorrow,â Frank suggested. He turned to his father. âDo you think Chet and Biffâs disappearance could have anything to do with the bank robbery?â

âItâs possible.â

âIn that case, maybe youâd let us give you a hand on the bank robbery case, Dad.â

âAs a matter of fact,â the detective replied, âif Collig hadnât offered you the Shantytown problem, I would have asked your help on this one.â

Frank and Joe looked perplexed. âBut the bank robbery hadnât happened then!â Joe protested.

Mr. Hardy smiled briefly. âFor some time I have been working secretly to round up a certain ring of bank robbers who operate on a national scale.â

âI see,â said Frank. âAnd they committed the Bayport holdup?â

âI believe so. It looks like their work. Iâve learned that the gang is broken up into a number of teams,â Mr. Hardy explained. âSomewhere on the West Coast is the ringleader who assigns each âteamâ to rob a local bank in a different part of the country. The scheme is very well organized.â

The boys went to bed, hoping to be disturbed by a call from the police, telling them good news, but none came. In the morning Joe called headquarters, then relayed a disappointing report to his family. âThe police didnât find Chet and Biff, but they picked up pieces of their costumes on piles of half-charred paper trash in different parts of Shantytown. Someone didnât know the outfits were fireproof and tried to burn them.â

âThen our pals were taken there and later moved somewhere else,â Frank declared. âBut where?â

He and Joe were so upset they could hardly eat breakfast. The other Hardys, who also were fond of Chet and Biff, were greatly sobered.

âOh, I almost forgot something,â said Mrs. Hardy. âA letter came for you boys in this morningâs early mail.â She handed Frank a plain white envelope. âItâs postmarked Northport, yesterday.â

Frank looked at it. âThe writing is familiar,â he remarked, âbut thereâs no return address.â

He tore open the envelope, took out a picture postcard, and scanned the message.

Frankâs eyes widened. âListen to this!â he exclaimed. â âHaving a wonderful time. Donât worry about us.â And itâs signed âChet and Biffâ!â

The rest of the family stared in amazement. Aunt Gertrude snorted indignantly. âHaving a wonderful time, indeed! Everyone worried sick, police searching all over the map for them, and theyâre having a wonderful time!â

âBut what a relief!â Mrs. Hardy said warmly. âIâll call Mrs. Morton andââ

âWait a minute,â Mr. Hardy cautioned. âIt may not really be from the boys.â

âThis is Chetâs handwriting,â Frank said.

Joe had jumped from his chair to examine the card. âYes, it is,â he affirmed. âThe picture is of Waterfront Street in Northport. Looks like an old card,â he added, passing it to his father.

âWhy do you think it was mailed in an envelope?â Mrs. Hardy asked, puzzled.

âSo no one would read the message until it got here,â suggested Joe.

âWhy didnât they telephone?â Aunt Gertrude asked tartly. âItâs even quicker.â

âI think they would if they could, Auntie,â Frank replied. âChet and Biff know better than to worry everybody this way. Theyâre prisoners!â

âAnyway, we know theyâre alive,â said his mother. âThat in itself is good news.â

âWill you call Mrs. Hooper and Mrs. Morton and tell them?â Frank requested his mother. She nodded.

âAnd Iâll notify the police,â Mr. Hardy added. âBy the way, they looked for the thievesâ fingerprints on Chetâs jalopy and your motorboat, but didnât find any.â

âI suppose the robbers wore gloves,â Frank remarked.

As Joe went back to his chair, he said, âI think we ought to run up to Northport and see if we can trace this card.â

Mr. Hardy looked thoughtful. âThe bank robbers stole their getaway car in Northport.â

âAnd the fellow who tried to ram the Sleuth,â Frank added, âmay have come down from there after watching the regatta.â

âDonât forget,â said Joe, âheâs a pal of Suttonâs.â

âNorthport might provide clues to Chet and Biff, the bank robbery, and the Shantytown trouble,â Frank concluded.

The boys finished their breakfast and rode to the Hardy boathouse. As Joe stepped into the Sleuth, he kicked off his moccasins. The next moment he cried, âOuchâhey! Broken glass!â He lifted the floor rack. âThereâs a whole mess of it in the bottom. Looks like a soda bottle.â

âThatâs funny,â said Frank. âWe didnât notice any yesterday.â

âThatâs because the glass was all hidden under the rack,â Joe pointed out. âThis piece was forced up between the slats overnight by the rocking of the boat.â

While he gingerly extracted a sliver of glass from his toe, Frank picked up the jagged fragments. âThese werenât here the day before the robbery,â he broke in excitedly. âWe took out the rack and emptied the boat completely. Itâs a clue, Joe! Weâll put these pieces together at home.â

He found some cheesecloth in the dashboard compartment, gathered all the glass fragments into it, and put the little bundle in his pocket. Joe, meanwhile, stuck a small bandage on his foot and put on his shoes.

After filling the tank with fuel, the boys headed for Northport. The motorboat streaked across the bay, with Frank at the wheel. Skillfully he throttled down a bit as his craft moved into the long, dark swells of the Atlantic.

Steadily the Sleuth plowed northward. Joe shaded his eyes with his hand as dots of land appeared off the coast ahead. âThere are the islands where Chet and Biff wanted to camp,â he noted. âSay! Theyâre pretty isolatedâand would be likely spots for hiding kidnap victims! We ought to search them if we donât find some clue to the boys in Northport.â

âIâll pass them as close as I can,â Frank offered. âMaybe weâll see something.â

One by one the line of islets could be seen. Though the Hardys watched carefully, they saw only sand, pines, and huge stone formations. Some of the islands were surrounded by dangerous half-submerged rocks.

âWeâre getting close to Jagged Reef,â Joe reminded his brother. âBetter take her out. Those rocky teeth can bite the bottom of a boat!â

Frank turned the Sleuthâs prow seaward. As he revved up the engine, however, he was startled by a shout from Joe.

âHold it! Thereâsubmerged just off those rocksââ Joe pointed to a little island. âIt looks like the wreck of a motorboat!â

Immediately Frank throttled down and headed toward the spot. Finally he let the engine idle. âI donât dare go any closer,â he said. âCan you see her from here?â

âOnly the outline,â reported Joe, who was standing up now with one foot on the gunwale. âLooks as if she hit a rock close to shore and sank. Sheâs a good size.â

âThose fragments on the rock look black,â Joe noticed. âSo does the outline. Say, do you suppose itâs the boat that nearly hit usâthe Black Cat?â

âWe can find out,â Frank said promptly. âOur underwater equipment is in the locker. Take the wheel. I want to get a look.â

Quickly Frank donned a face mask with a wide glass plate. Leaning over, he put his head in the water and strained to see the wreck more clearly.

Lifting his face, he exclaimed, âIt is black! I canât tell if itâs the Black Cat at this distance. Keep her in close, Joe. Why are we drifting away?â

âCanât help it.â Desperately Joe yanked at the wheel. âWeâre caught in the current!â he exclaimed frantically.

While the boys had been intent on the sunken hull, the swift, strong current had caught their craft. The Sleuth was being rushed toward the deadly rocks of Jagged Reef!

CHAPTER IX

The Old Saltâs Story

BUFFETED by the current, the Sleuth plunged out of control toward the line of white exploding spray, where the seaâs swell smacked against the barrier reef.

Joe bore down hard on the wheel as the churned-up waters, falling back from the rocks, seethed underneath. The din of crashing waves was terrific, but above it could be heard the powerful throb of the Sleuthâs engine.

âIf I could only turn her!â Joe thought.

For an instant the motorboat seemed to stand still in the midst of the boiling waters. The engine and treacherous current pulled with equal strength in a fierce tug of war. Then, slowly, the sturdy craft inched her way seaward under Joeâs guidance.

âShe did it!â Frank whooped in relief. âWhat a boat! And nice piloting, Joe!â

The Sleuth gathered speed and Joe took the boat out a safe distance from the reef.

âToo bad we couldnât find out if that sunken boat was the Black Cat,â he remarked. âBut maybe we can learn something about the wreck when we get to Northport.â

âFirst we should trace the postcard,â Frank said. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at it again carefully. âThis is so old, it probably was bought in a place that doesnât sell many,â he commented.

âThe edges are yellow and the picture is out of date. There havenât been trolleys on Waterfront Street for years. As soon as we get there, letâs look for a little hole-in-the-wall store.â

Frank studied the card from all angles. âJoe, look!â he exclaimed, and pointed to the thin edge. There was a blue stain. âInk,â Frank judged. âIf it was spilled on the whole batch of cards, the others will have similar blots. Weâll look for that.â

It was well past noon when the boys sighted Northport on their left. Passing between a pair of entrance buoys, the Sleuth came off the swelling ocean onto the calm surface of a small, well-protected harbor.

On one side a forest of thick masts rose from a fleet of sturdy fishing boats. At the far end of the bay, bright-colored pleasure craft rode at anchor. Slender, pencillike masts marked the sailboats. On the shore nearby were the yellow wooden skeletons of boats under construction.

Joe guided the Sleuth toward a large dock with gasoline pumps, which extended into the water from the boatyard.

âThis must be the yard that sponsored the regatta,â Frank commented. âBring her in, Joe.â

Within minutes the young detectives had made their craft secure and scrambled onto the dock. They hurried down the wooden planking and turned onto Waterfront Street. There were restaurants, souvenir shops, and boat-supply stores. All of them were well kept and busy. The boys stopped in a luncheonette for a snack, then hurried on. They paused to look down the first intersecting street. It was narrow and shabby.

âLetâs try the stores on this street,â Joe suggested.

Halfway down the block, they found a small confectionery squeezed between a junk shop and an empty store. There was a sign HARRYâS on the window.

As the boys went in, a musty smell hit them. When their eyes adjusted from bright sunlight to the dark interior, they saw a glass case of candy and a soda fountain with a broken stool. There was no one in the store.

âLook!â Frank said, pointing to a rack of postcards on a shelf behind the candy case.

As Joe stepped behind the counter to peer at them, a door opened in the rear of the store.

âDonât touch!â said a deep voice.

The boys turned to see a big man lumbering toward them. He had a swarthy face with huge dark eyes and a heavy black mustache.

âYou want a postcard?â he asked shortly.

âYes, please,â Joe replied. The shopkeeper took the card rack from the shelf and placed it on the counter. âPick out,â he ordered.

Frank showed the man Chetâs postcard. âWe want one like this. Some friends of ours bought it here yesterday, we think.â

The man looked at them stonily. âCould be!â He pointed at the rack to some faded cards identical to the one Frank held. Joe lifted them out, held them up together, and squinted at the edges. There was the blue inkstain!

âDo you remember the fellows who bought this one?â Frank asked casually, holding out the card from Chet and Biff.

âYou buying or asking questions?â the man inquired.

âBoth,â Frank told him with a smile.

âI guess you donât recall,â Joe said. âTwo boys our ageâone of them pretty chubby?â

The man looked annoyed. âI remember who comes in my place,â he said hotly. âNo kids. It was a big, bald fellow with a loud voice. He bought a lot of Fizzle soda. Second time in a week.â

Frank and Joe exchanged glances. Both had the same recollection: the huge, bald-headed man in the Black Cat. Could he be the postcard purchaser ?

Unable to learn more, the boys thanked the proprietor and purchased three postcards. Outside, they turned toward Waterfront Street.

âJust as we suspected!â Joe burst out. âThe postcardâs a phony. Somebody forced Chet and Biff to write it!â

âAnd that somebody may be the bald man. But whatâs his game? And is his buddy who piloted the Black Cat in on it too? Whatâs their connection with Shantytown, anyway?â

âIâd sure like to get my hands on those two guys!â Joe declared. âThey must know where Biff and Chet are.â

The Hardys stopped at a nearby restaurant, where Frank telephoned Bayport police headquarters. He gave a report of their findings to Chief Collig.

âGood lead,â said the officer. âThat bald fellow might have a connection with your palsâ disappearance. Iâll send out a description of him. Keep up the good work.â

The Hardys then went to the boatyard where they had left the Sleuth. âMaybe someone here knows about the Black Cat,â Joe said. âLetâs ask.â

As the boys walked out on the docks, a wiry man bustled up to greet them. He had a lively, ruddy face and unruly black hair.

âHello, mates!â he called out. âIâm William CaineâI manage this dock. Need any gas? Repairs?â

Frank spoke up. âWhat we really want, Mr. Caine, is some information.â

The manager smiled. âWeâve got plenty of that, too. Come along.â

The friendly man led the Hardys to his office, an old deck cabin, at one end of his dock. Inside, Frank and Joe looked about them curiously. The room was filled with all sorts of old sea articlesâa barometer, a binnacle, and a huge pilot wheeL In addition, there were a desk, a filing cabinet, a typewriter, and a telephone.

âPretty snug, eh?â Mr. Caine chuckled. âItâs my little bit of sea on shore, now that my sailing days are over.â

While Joe grinned appreciatively, Frank noted a limp object lying on top of the filing cabinet. âExcuse me, Mr. Caine,â he said. âWhatâs that?â

The seafaring man followed Frankâs gaze. âOh, that!â Carelessly he tossed it over.

âA mask!â Frank exclaimed.

âA gorilla mask!â Joe added. âWhere did you get this, Mr. Caine?â

âKind of scary, ainât he?â The old-timer chuckled. âWe had a big masquerade party the last night of the regatta. I went as a gorilla.â

The young sleuths studied the rubber face intently. âCoincidence,â Joe murmured.

âSure was a big regatta,â the manager went on. âPeople came from all over.â

Joe nodded. âWhat we want to ask you about, Mr. Caine, is a good-sized inboard, painted all black, named the Black Cat.â

âThe Black Cat?â Caine raised his eyebrows. âWhy, I own her!â

âYou do?â Frank exclaimed.

âSure. Nice fast boat, too. Whereâd you see her?â

âAt Bayport, day before yesterday,â Joe replied. âShe tried to ram us.â

Caine looked astonished. âWhat happened?â

âWe pulled away from her.â

âYou fellows must have a pretty good boat yourselves!â

âWho was piloting the Black Cat, Mr. Caine?â Frank asked. âDid he wreck her?â

âI should say not! Sheâs tied up to the dock right this minute.â

âWe saw the sunken hull of a black boat off one of the islands,â Joe explained.

âOh, yes, the poor old Queen of Spades,â Mr. Caine replied. âToo bad she was wrecked. Like to have a look at my boat?â

âWe sure would!â Joe declared.

Caine obligingly led the way out on the long pier. As he walked, the old salt rambled on about the Black Cat. âSheâs a fast boat, all right. Letâs seeâday before yesterdayâthat was the last day of the regatta. Three men from San Francisco hired her.â

âThree?â Joe caught him up. âThere were only two men aboard when they tried to ram our boat.â

âWell, three hired her, but only two went out in her. Letâs seeâthere were the Stark brothers, Ben and Fritz, I think their names were, and a third fellowâbig and bald. He and Ben went out in the boat. The men said they came all the way here on their vacations, especially to see the regatta.â

âAre they still around?â Frank asked.

âTheyâre back in California by now, I guess,â Caine replied. âSaid they were taking a plane.â He stopped at the edge of the dock and motioned downward. âThere she is,â he said proudly.

Frank and Joe found themselves looking into the same sleek, black powerboat which had nearly rammed them.

Joe stepped into the boat and looked around carefully. âSure they didnât leave anything behind?â

âYep. I always clean my boats out good after people bring âem in.â

âWell, the Black Cat sure is a nice boat,â Joe declared as he climbed back onto the dock. âWhich one of the renters was driving her? A dark fellow, with black hair combed straight back?â

âYes,â Caine replied. âThat would be Ben Stark.â

âWe reported the attack to the Coast Guard,â Frank told the manager.

âAnd right you were!â said Mr. Caine. âJust let them turn up here again, and Iâll have âem arrested.â

âIf you should hear anything about them, please let us know,â Frank requested, and gave his name and address.

âGlad to!â exclaimed Caine. âNow can I give you some gas?â

âWeâd better get some,â Frank replied, âand start for home.â

By the time the boys were ready to leave, the sun was setting. Frank revved up the Sleuthâs power plant and sent the craft knifing through the swells.

Soon the boys passed out the narrow mouth of Northport harbor. Frank turned the Sleuth southward toward Bayport.

The sea was calmer than it had been during the day. On the oceanâs horizon the darkness gathered slowly, and finally a few stars were beginning to push through when the coastal islands came into view on the Sleuthâs starboard side.

After passing Jagged Reef safely, Frank ran in closer to the islands. Ahead they saw a tall, limp white sail. As the Sleuth drew nearer, the boys made out the masts and hull of a trim-looking schooner, anchored for the night off one of the islets.

âNice lines,â commented Joe. âPass close to her, will you, Frank?â

Quietly, with her engine throttled down, the motorboat drew abreast of the larger vessel. It was now dusk and a light shone in her cabin from which came the sound of activity. Frank gazed in admiration at the tall masts and shipshape rigging.

Suddenly Joeâs fingers clutched his brotherâs shoulder. âLook! On the deck!â

As the Sleuth passed the schooner, Frank caught a quick glimpse of the figure of a boy leaning over the rail.

Joe cried out, âThat was Chet!â

CHAPTER X

A Narrow Escape

âITâs either Chet or his double!â Joe exclaimed. âBut Iâm sure my eyes werenât playing tricks.â

âDo you suppose heâs a prisoner on that schooner?â Frank asked. âWell, weâll soon find out!â

He turned the wheel sharply and the Sleuth swung about. It circled close to the anchored vesseL

âChet!â cried Joe, making a trumpet of his hands. âChet Morton! Itâs Frank and Joe! Are you all right?â

âChe-e-t!â both boys yelled together. âChe-e-t Mo-or-ton!â

A momentary hush followed, as the Hardys paused for breath. All sounds of activity aboard the schooner ceased. Abruptly a burly sailor in white duck trousers appeared on deck.

âWhatâs all the holler?â he barked. âClear out of here, or youâll get in plenty of trouble!â

As Joe stood up to retort, Frank yanked him down again. âWe should go!â he whispered. âLet him think he scared us off.â

The Sleuthâs engine roared louder, and the boat moved along the shore of the island until the white sails were out of sight.

âItâll be black night out here in half an hour,â Frank explained. âThen weâll go back and see whatâs up.â

Daylight faded away, leaving in its place broadly sprinkled stars. A calm ocean swayed their boat gently. Rocks along the shore humped up, massive shapes in the darkness.

âNow!â Frank said softly.

Joe took the wheel and throttled the smooth-running engine so low that its sound was only a faint hum. Keeping as close to shore as possible, the Sleuth crept toward the anchored schooner.

When the vessel loomed just ahead, Joe cut the throttle completely and the motorboat glided noiselessly under her stern. Frank, holding out his hands to ward off the hull, suddenly felt rough fibers.

âA rope ladder!â he whispered. âIâm going up!â

âIâll follow,â said Joe.

After securing their own boat with a loose hitch, Frank cautiously drew his body upward, rung by rung. Joe was right behind him. Frank slipped underneath the rail and crawled along the empty deck.

Joe reached the top of the ladder and stepped forward. Suddenly, from out of the darkness, two powerful arms seized him in a viselike grip, and a manâs sandpaper voice called out:

âHere! I caught one of them!â

Joe tensed in surprise, then spun around, breaking the grip. He ducked. With all his strength he drove upward, his head hitting the midsection of his attacker like a battering ram.

As the man fell back, gasping, Joe leaped to his feet. âFrank!â he cried hoarsely. There was no reply, but a wild clamor rose from the fore part of the deck.

âHere he is!â someone cried out.

âNo, here!â another rasped.

âThatâs me, you fool!â

Someone began ringing the deck bell. There came the shuffle of running feet and the grunting of men short of breath.

Then Frankâs clear voice sang out, âNo use, Joe! Overboard!â

Both boys vaulted the rail. As Joe hit the water, another geyser of spray rose several feet from him. The Hardys popped to the surface, then disappeared under the dark water again.

âHarbor thieves!â came shouts from the deck. âGet them!â The bell clanged on. There were two sudden bursts of light, accompanied by sharp explosions. Someone was shooting wildly!

âHarbor thieves! Get them!â came shouts
from the deck

Frank and Joe surfaced near the rope ladder and quickly untied the Sleuth. Swimming with swift, silent strokes they pushed their craft away from the schooner into the protecting darkness.

âWhew!â breathed Joe as he tumbled, panting, into the motorboat. âThey must have been on deck, watching.â

âAnyhow, I found out what we wanted to know,â Frank reported. âThat wasnât Chet, but a boy who looks a lot like him.â

âHow do you know?â

âHe tackled me. I said, âChet, itâs Frank!â but he hung on tightly. Thatâs when I yelled for you to go over the side.â

Joe started the motor and opened the throttle all the way. As the Sleuth gained power, the prow lifted and the boat leaped forward. Safely away from the yacht, Joe switched on the running lights. Along the shore, they could see a solitary light here and there. Presently the bright glow of beach fires told them they were passing Shantytown.

âNo more stops tonight,â Frank said with a chuckle.

The Sleuth crossed the quiet expanse of Bayport harbor and finally entered their boathouse. Twenty minutes later they reached the Hardy house. Their mother and aunt were anxiously waiting.

âGoodness gracious!â scolded Aunt Gertrude. âIs this a time to come homeââ She stopped and gasped. âOh! Look at them! Soaking wetâlike a pair of drowned rats!â

âWeâre almost dry, Auntie,â Joe replied with a laugh. âWe fell in over an hour ago.â

âFell in!â their mother exclaimed. âWe canât wait to hear! But first youâd better go upstairs and change, then have some supper.â

Soon Frank and Joe, comfortable in fresh, dry clothes, were seated at the kitchen table before a late but steaming dinner.

âWhereâs Dad?â Frank asked.

âHe left town this afternoon,â Mrs. Hardy replied. âHeâs checking an out-of-state clue on the bank robbery. Now tell us what happened to you boys.â

âWell, we thought we saw Chet on a schooner,â Frank began, as he cut into a generous slice of roast beef.

âOnly it wasnât Chet ...â Joe said, and helped himself to a baked potato.

âThey thought we were thieves ...â Frank tried again.

âSo we jumped overboard!â Joe added.

âA very clear account,â Aunt Gertrude commented tartly.

As soon as the brothers finished eating they excused themselves, jumped up, and headed for the back door.

âOh, no!â cried Aunt Gertrude in alarm. âWhere are you off to now?â

âJust out to the laboratory, Auntie,â Frank reassured her. âWe found something today we must work on.â

The boys ran up the garage stairs and Joe unlocked the door at the top. Frank switched on the fluorescent light over a clean table. On it he laid the cheesecloth bundle of glass fragments from the Sleuth.

âWeâll need something to hold these together,â he noted, unwrapping the green shards. As the brothers examined them, Frank reached for a container of putty. âThis will be better than glue.â

Treating the fragments like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, the young sleuths rebuilt a twelve-ounce, green-tinted pop bottle.

âFizzle,â Joe read from the raised glass letters. âFizzleâwhereââ

âHarryâs confectionery in Northport!â Frank broke in excitedly. âThe owner said that the bald man bought several bottles of Fizzle!â

âYou mean he might have been the one who left the broken glass in the Sleuth?â

âYes! Not only thatâhe might have done it while helping to steal our boat.â

âWait a minute!â Joeâs thoughts raced as he followed his brotherâs line of deduction. âIf thatâs true, he could be one of the bank robbers! They stole a car in Northport!â

âAnd donât forget the postcard business, which may tie him in with the kidnaping of Chet and Biff!â

Joe nodded. âThen thereâs Ben Stark, the pilot of the Black Cat, which by the way, came down from Northport the day of the bank robbery. Is he linked with both cases? And is his pal Sutton? And where do the fights at Shantytown fit in?â

âThatâs for us to find out,â Frank said determinedly. âEspecially since the answer might lead us to Chet and Biff. Weâre pretty sure they were in Shantytownâsince we found Chetâs gorilla mask off the coast there, and his sleeve was picked up behind Suttonâs shack.â

The excitement suddenly faded from Joeâs face. âMaybe our hunches are on the wrong track. After all, Fizzle could be sold in other places besides Northportâand we have no proof the bald guy left the bottle in the Sleuth.â

âDonât be a pessimist,â Frank begged. âRemember what Dad says: âPersistence is just as important as cleverness in detective work.â â

âYes, and a little luck helps, too. Donât worry. Itâs just that we have so many mysteries to solve. Which one do we tackle next?â The ringing of the telephone interrupted. Frank answered.

âGlad to find you home,â came Chief Colligâs familiar voice. âMaybe you can help me. We have a man down hereâbeen brought in for stealing. He seems to think you and Joe can clear him.â

âJoe and I?â repeated Frank, astonished. âWhy ... whatâs his name? What does he look like?â

âHeâs a big, strong fellowâa stevedore. Calls himself Alf.â

CHAPTER XI

Midnight Caller

âALF Lundborg a thief!â Frank exclaimed. âI canât believe it! Weâll be right down, Chief Collig,â he promised.

âI donât buy it,â Joe said flatly as they started out. âWhatâs the pitch?â

Frank shrugged and hurried off to inform his mother of the errand, while Joe locked the laboratory. Then the brothers rushed downtown on their motorcycles to Chief Colligâs office.

âWhereâs Alf?â asked Joe, looking around as he entered.

âWeâre holding him in a cell until I talk to you boys,â the officer explained.

âHeâs the man we told you about yesterday,â Frank reminded the chief. âThe one who helped us in Shantytown. If it hadnât been for him, Sutton would have cracked my skull with a blackjack.â

âI remember,â the chief replied. âSuttonâs the cause of his arrest.â Before the surprised boys could speak, he added, âIâll let Lundborg tell you himself.â Over his intercom he ordered the suspect brought in.

âI donât believe Alfâs a thief,â Frank said.

âBut he does have a record for petty theft and disturbing the peace,â Chief Collig said soberly. âThat makes it look bad for him.â

âHow long ago was that?â Joe asked.

âAlfâs last brush with the law was five years ago,â Collig replied. âHe claims he was just a wild kid at the time.â

The door opened and Alf stood on the threshold. His giant frame almost hid the sergeant behind him. When he saw the Hardys, his troubled face lighted up instantly.

âI knew you fellows wouldnât let me down,â he burst out. âTell the chief I didnât take it!â

âTake what, Alf?â said Frank.

âThe police found a transistor radio in my knapsack,â the big man explained, âbut I didnât put it there!â

âSutton reported it stolen,â the officer said. âWe sent out Lieutenant Daley to investigate, and he found it in Lundborgâs bag.â

âIs Lieutenant Daley still here?â Frank asked. âWould you have him come in?â Collig nodded.

A few minutes later a tall, thin-faced officer entered. He and the Hardys had known one another for years and exchanged greetings. âLieutenant Daley,â Frank said, âwhen you were hunting for the radio who suggested that you look in Alfâs knapsack?â

âSutton,â the officer answered.

Frank nodded. âIt looks like a plant, Chief.â

âSure it is,â Joe declared. âAlf scared Sutton off when he attacked Frank. He probably planted the radio to get even.â

âThatâs right! Thatâs just what I told them!â Alf boomed. âThanks a lot for sticking by me, fellows. Iâll get Sutton!â

âHold on there!â commanded Chief Collig. âYouâll be back here for assault if you try that. Since the Hardys back up your story, Iâll let you go. But if Sutton prosecutes, weâll have to bring you in again.â

âOkay.â Alf wrung the boysâ hands, thanked them, and left.

Frank pointed to a radio on Colligâs desk and asked, âIs this the stolen property?â

âThatâs it,â Lieutenant Daley spoke up.

âTake a look,â the chief invited, and Frank picked up the compact, heavy little set.

âJapanese make. Yokohama Super-X.â

âLetâs see,â Joe requested. He gave a low whistle as his brother passed it to him. âWhat a little beauty! Brand new, too. Look at that nickel-and-ivory case!â

âItâs an expensive, rare set,â Lieutenant Daley commented. âNot many people can afford one.â

âThatâs true,â Frank said. âHank Sutton seems to be just a seedy-looking character who lives in Shantytown. But Joe and I have a hunch as to how he could afford a radio like this.â

âYou mean he stole it?â Chief Collig asked.

âWe think he belongs to a ring of thieves,â Frank told him. âIf they fight among themselves, it would explain the trouble in Shantytown.â

Lieutenant Daley looked doubtful. âIf Sutton stole the radio, why would he plant it on Alf? That would only call the attention of the police to himself.â

Frank grinned. âIf youâd seen Sutton go after me, youâd know he acts first and thinks later.â

âThen heâs probably regretting Lundborgâs arrest right now,â Lieutenant Daley returned.

âThatâs not all heâll regret,â Joe promised grimly, âif heâs had anything to do with Chet and Biffâs disappearance.â

âThat reminds me,â the chief said. âThe boysâ parents received postcards from Northport, too. Weâre looking for the bald, loud-voiced man you told me about, but that isnât much to go on.â

âNo,â Frank admitted, âbut weâre working on a new clue.â He told of the discovery of the Fizzle soda bottle and the purchase of a similar one by the bald-headed man in Northport. âThatâs why we think heâs connected with stealing the Sleuth as well as Chet and Biffâs disappearance.â

âThen,â Joe put in, âwe learned that the dock manager up there owns the Black Cat and rented it the day of the bank robbery to the bald fellow and Ben Starkâthe one we saw talking to Hank Sutton in Shantytown.â

Chief Collig looked at the boys keenly. âI see what youâre driving atâthat Sutton may be more than a petty thiefâhe and the other two might be involved in the robbery!â

As Lieutenant Daley stared at the Hardys in amazement, Frank replied, âYouâre right, Chief. But we have no solid evidence yet to back up our hunch. Joe and I will check stores in town tomorrow to see where the radio came from.â

âGood. Weâll do some checking of our own too. Thanks, Frank and Joe, for coming down.â

When the Hardys reached home, their house was dark. They let themselves in quietly, went to bed, and fell asleep at once.

Some time later Joe was awakened by a noise. He sat up, listening. It came again-a soft knocking.

âFrank!â he whispered, shaking his brother. âSomeoneâs at the front door.â

Instantly Frank was awake. The boys hurried downstairs. As the gentle knocking began again, Frank switched on the porch light. Joe swung open the front door. Before them stood a tall, thin, worried-looking man.

âMr. French!â cried Joe in surprise.

The costume dealerâs mouth dropped open in astonishment. âYouâyouâre notâyouâre here!â he stammered incoherently.

âYes, of course, we are,â Frank responded. âWhy are you so surprised to see us?â

âWhyâahâIâm terribly sorry, boys!â Mr. French looked nervously over his shoulder. âIâI see Iâve come to the wrong streetâlooking for High Avenue, and this must be High Street. So sorry! Good night!â

The tall man hurried down the steps to a car at the curb and drove away.

Joe turned to his brother. âThere isnât any High Avenue in Bayport. Mr. French must know that. Heâs been in business here for years.â

As Frank closed the door, they heard footsteps at the top of the stairs and their motherâs voice asked softly, âWhat is it, Gertrude?â

âBurglars!â hissed their aunt. âI heard them talking.â She called down in a loud but shaky voice, âThe police are coming! Go or Iâll call my nephews! Frank! Joe!â

âWeâre down here, Auntie!â Frank informed her, stifling a laugh. âThere are no burglars.â

After a secondâs pause there came a weak âWell!â followed by âHumph! I might have known!â

âWhatâs the matter, boys?â Mrs. Hardy asked.

âSomeone here who said he had the wrong street,â Joe told her, and switched off the porch light.

The next morning the boys ate an early breakfast. Afterward, Frank suggested, âLetâs try all the appliance stores to see if Sutton did buy the Super-X radio. We can see Mr. French later.â

Joe agreed and they set off. They went from shop to shop, but the story was always the same: The merchants did not stock the Yokohama Super-X radioâit was too costly to sell many sets. At last, however, a young clerk in a hi-fi equipment store said, âYes, we have them. Iâll be glad to show you one.â

âWeâre not here to buy,â Frank said. âWe just want to know if youâve sold any recently.â

âNo,â the disappointed clerk admitted. âWe donât sell many. We thought we wouldâdespite the high priceâbecause the Super-X transistor has so many extra featuresâFM, short waveâname it!â

âWhere do you get them?â Joe asked.

âWe import directly from the Yokohama Radio Companyâs distributors in Japan. The radios come in by ship and are unloaded on the Bayport docks.â

âHave you missed any from your stock lately?â Frank queried.

The clerk looked surprised, but answered readily, âNo, but we were short one crate on the last shipment. My boss wrote to the distributor in Japan about it, but there hasnât been time for a reply yet.â

The boys thanked the youth and returned to the street. They wondered about the clerkâs remarks concerning the foreign-made radios.

âIf Sutton bought the radio, he didnât buy it in Bayport,â Joe declared.

Frank said, âHe may have stolen the whole crate that was supposed to go to the hi-fi store. Letâs cycle out to Shantytown. Maybe we can learn more about Sutton.â

The brothers hurried home and put on their beachcomber clothes. Then they hopped onto their motorcycles and sped along Shore Road. They hid their cycles in a grove of short, scrubby pines near the squatter colony.

âWeâd better walk the rest of the way,â Joe said, âand act as casual as possible.â

Frank and Joe entered the camp cautiously. It was noontime and pale smoke rose from a few cooking fires near the water. The village was nearly deserted and the boys judged that Suttonâs shack was empty. The door was padlocked.

As Frank and Joe wandered among the huts, they noticed that each one had a trash heap of its own in the rear. Suddenly Joe darted to a pile in which something glinted in the sunlight.

âWhat did you find?â Frank called, and ran forward to look.

âPop bottles!â Joe exulted, holding one aloft. âFizzle soda!â

CHAPTER XII

The Desolate Island

JOE picked up another bottle from the rubbish heap. âItâs exactly like the one we pieced together last night,â he declared. âThese prove the bank robbers are linked up with Shantytown!â

âIt looks that way,â Frank conceded. âButâFizzle soda may be sold around Bayport. As you said, we donât know for certain that the robbers used the Sleuth. Somebody may just have âborrowedâ it for a joy ride.â

âWell, the bottles make it likely that the robbers are connected to this place,â Joe amended. âBut letâs scout around some more.â

The two boys, hands in pockets, strolled casually among the shacks. Although they looked closely at the few squatters hanging around, they saw no one they recognized. Disappointed, the brothers circled back to the trash heap.

âWeâre getting nowhere,â said Joe, disheartened.

Suddenly Frankâs body tensed. âSh! Listen! Hear that?â

âAll I hear is the ocean.â

âSomeone is groaning!â

Still listening intently, Frank turned and looked all around him. The nearest building was a gray, windowless shack with a closed door. Abruptly he strode toward it, Joe behind him.

Reaching the handleless door, Frank gave a tentative push and it swung open. Warily he stepped inside and blinked for a moment in the darkness.

âJoe! Quick!â

A man lay huddled on a cot. His face and the blanket he clutched were smeared with dried blood, and he moaned and heaved for breath.

âThe manâs unconscious,â said Frank as he took the limp wrist for a pulse. âFind water, Joe. Maybe thereâs some in the jug on the table.â

Joe looked into the container. âWeâre in luck!â He soaked his handkerchief and bathed the injured manâs face. As the blood and dirt came away, the boy gave a gasp of surprise.

Hank Sutton!

âHeâs badly hurt,â Frank observed. âCuts and bruises on the head, and shock. Might be fractures, too,â

âIâll call the police ambulance,â Joe volunteered. âWe passed a house about a mile down the road. They must have a phone.â

âHurrylâ Frank urged. âIâll stay here.â

Joe sprinted for his motorcycle. While he was gone, Frank searched the dim hut for clues to an assailant, but found nothing.

Soon an ambulance, its red lights blinking, was speeding toward Shantytown. A police car followed. When they passed the house where Joe had telephoned, he zoomed after them.

At Shantytown he led an intern and two stretcher-bearers across the sand to the hut where Frank waited with the injured Sutton.

âHow is he?â asked the doctor quickly on entering. âIs he conscious yet?â

âNo, heâs delirious,â Frank said. âHe keeps mumbling something over and overâa manâs name.â

âWhose?â asked Joe eagerly. He had appeared in the doorway, with Chief Collig behind him.

Frank looked up at them with a frown. âAlf Lundborgâs, Iâm afraid.â

âSo he took his revenge on Sutton,â the chief concluded. âThatâs bad.â

The intern hustled everyone out of the way. Expertly the injured man was transferred to the stretcher and borne across the sand to the waiting ambulance.

Chief Collig and the boys trailed along. âWeâll have to pick up Alf,â the chief remarked. âHe had the perfect motive for assaulting Sutton.â

âJust the same I donât believe he did it,â Joe declared stoutly.

âSorry, fellows,â the chief said regretfully as they reached the road, âbut regardless of the suspicions against Sutton, I have no choice.â

Frank and Joe walked sadly back to the pine grove, mounted their motorcycles, and rode home. They ate lunch quietly, puzzling over the case.

âWhat now?â Joe asked glumly. âAll we did this morning was to get Alf in trouble.â

âGreat detectives we are!â said Frank, disgusted. âHow about walking downtown? I have another idea.â

âAbout what?â âThe Fizzle soda. Since the person who had a bottle of it was in our boatâthe bald fellow or someone elseâhe was in Bayport. Maybe he did buy some here.â

The two set off and strode briskly along the sidewalk. At the first grocery store they turned in. âDo you carry Fizzle soda?â Frank asked.

âNo, I donât.â

The young detectives went into all the drugstores, markets, and lunch counters along their way. Always they asked the same question, and received the same answer. Nobody sold Fizzle soda.

At last they entered a downtown sweetshop which was a meeting place for many of their friends. âHi!â called Tony Prito from a booth where he was seated with Jerry Gilroy.

âHello, fellows,â Frank greeted them. âWeâll be over in a minute.â

Meanwhile, he asked the soda clerk about Fizzle, but received a negative answer. âOnly place Iâve ever seen it anywhere around these parts is Northport. I live near there.â

Northport again!

Frank and Joe walked over to their friends.

âAny news of Chet and Biff?â Tony asked.

âNothing but a postcard,â Frank answered.

âWhat do you think really happened to them?â Jerry asked worriedly. âDid they go off on a mission of their own? Or were they kidnaped?â

âWe donât know,â Frank confessed. âBut there havenât been any ransom notes.â

âItâs dull around here without the fellows.â Tony sighed. âWe were going on a nice camping trip.â

âChet and Biff told us about it,â said Joe. âFrank and I have an idea maybe theyâre being hidden on one of the coast islands.â

âCould be,â Tony said. âI remember Biff mentioned Hermit Islandâthe one owned by a queer old recluse who lives on it.â

âHe mentioned that to us, too,â Joe recalled. âI wonder if that old man has seen any sign of Chet and Biff?â

âSay!â Tonyâs face suddenly lighted up. âWhy donât we get your boat and go out for a look at Hermit Island? Itâs early enough yet. How about it?â

âGood idea!â Jerry exclaimed.

âRight!â Frank said enthusiastically.

Joe was already on his feet. âCome on! Letâs go!â To Frank he said, âThe mystery of Mr. Frenchâs mix-up last night can wait.â

Jerry and Tony paid for their ice cream, and the four hurried out to Jerryâs car. A short drive brought them to the Hardy boathouse.

âLetâs take both our boats,â Tony proposed. âWe might need themâif we find Chet and Biff.â

They piled into the Sleuth and Frank steered the craft down to the dock where Tony kept the Napoli. Just as the two boats were ready to cast off, Callie Shaw and Iola Morton walked out onto Tonyâs dock.

âOh, are you boys going for a ride?â Callie asked. âMay we come along?â

âGosh, Callie,â Frank said doubtfully, âthis isnât exactly a pleasure cruise. Weâre bound for Hermit Island to look for Chet and Biff.â

âOh, then you have to take us,â pleaded Iola. âAfter all, Chetâs my brother.â Her eyes filled with tears. âPlease, Frank.â

âIolaâs right,â Joe agreed. âThe girls want to find Chet and Biff as much as we do.â

âOkay,â said Frank. âPile in, then!â Iola cheered up at once and the Hardys helped the girls into the stern of the Sleuth.

The boats moved swiftly out the harbor, with Frank leading the way in the slightly faster Sleuth. Before long, the shore islands came into sight, with their white, drifted sand, scrubby vegetation, and huge, barren rocks.

Hermit Island, a big craggy pile, loomed out of the water higher than all the others. It was attractive but wild looking.

âToo rough on this side to land,â Frank called over to the Napoli. âGood beach on the lee shore, though, I believe. Follow me!â

The search party rounded the island. After the girls had stepped onto firm sand, the four boys tied their mooring ropes to trees at the edge of the beach. All went ashore and gazed at the lonely spot.

âThis is a spooky place,â commented Iola, looking around her uneasily.

âIt does give one the creeps,â Callie agreed.

The boys laughed but felt they should proceed carefully. With Frank and Joe in the lead, they set off on a faint path that wound along the shore at the base of the steep, rocky hill which formed the heart of the island. Above the searchers loomed jagged cliffs, cut here and there by deep ravines, thick with pines and coarse grass.

At times Joe cupped his hands and shouted, âHallooo ... Bi-iff ... Che-e-t!â

There was no answer. âLooks hopeless,â Joe commented.

At last the path began to rise steeply. The four boys moved upward much faster than Iola and Callie. Finally the girls dropped behind. The boys continued on, clambering and puffing, forgetful of everything but the tough terrain they were fighting.

Suddenly a sharp scream rang out from below. âCallie!â cried Frank, whirling.

CHAPTER XIII

The Threatening Figure

TUMBLING and sliding, the four boys rushed pell-mell down the steep path to Iola and Callie. The girls clung together in fright.

âWhat is it, Callie?â cried Frank.

Speechless, the girl pointed upward. From the top of the bluff a wild-looking old man with a long, dirty white beard was pointing a shotgun at them.

His clothes were torn, and he wore a battered felt hat. The weird figure stood motionless, silhouetted against the blue sky. The afternoon sunlight gleamed on the barrels of his weapon.

âHe must be the hermit,â muttered Joe.

âGit off my island!â came the strong, deep voice of the old man. The shotgun jerked threateningly. âGit, I say!â

âWeâd better do as he says,â Frank advised.

He took Callieâs arm. Joe grabbed Iolaâs. The six young people scooted for the beach.

As they followed the path, the Hardys and their friends could see the strange man darting from rock to rock along the top of the bluff above them. He did not let them out of his sight. When they reached the boats, Frank and Joe quickly helped the girls safely aboard the Sleuth.

Joe took the wheel while Frank cast off. The Sleuth and the Napoli were run just out of shotgun range, then throttled down while their passengers took another look at their adversary. The old man stood in the same threatening attitude on the hilltop.

âYou know,â Frank noted, âfor an old fellow he has a powerful voice.â

âHeâs plenty spry, too,â Joe added. âDid you see how he jumped across those rocks? Heâs nimble as a goat!â

âAnd did you notice his shotgun?â Frank asked. âIt was very well cared for; not like his beard and clothes!â

âThere was no nonsense about that gun,â Joe agreed. âIâd like to know what the manâs trying to keep us away from!â

âMaybe he just wants to be left alone,â Callie suggested.

âAfter all, he is a hermit,â added Iola.

âWhatever he is,â declared Joe, âIâd like to get a closer look at him sometime.â

Joe put on power and the Sleuth shot forward over the water. The Napoli trailed close behind.

As the island dropped astern, Frank remarked, âI can still make out the hermit. Heâs standing motionless on that hilltop.â

The two speedboats crossed the wide expanse of Bayport harbor and came to rest at Tonyâs dock.

âSay, you fellows donât have any transportation down here,â Jerry recalled. âShall I pick you up at your boathouse?â

âNo, thanks,â Frank replied. âJoe and I came out to do some sleuthing. Weâll walk. We have a few stops to make.â

âOkay, weâll give Iola and Callie a lift, then.â They helped the girls ashore and Frank and Joe waved good-by.

After locking the Sleuth in her berth, Frank and Joe walked to the center of town. âLetâs stop at headquarters,â Frank suggested as they approached the familiar stone building. âMaybe thereâs some new word on Sutton.â

The boys found Chief Collig in conference with Lieutenant Daley.

âItâs all right. Come in, fellows,â the chief invited. âDaleyâs been over at the hospital. Sutton has regained consciousness.â

âWhat did he say?â Frank inquired eagerly.

âHe claims he doesnât know who beat him up,â replied Lieutenant Daley. âSays he was hit from behind and never saw his attacker.â

âBut that canât be true!â Frank protested. âThe bruises I saw were mostly on his face.â

âOh, he knows who did it, all right,â Lieutenant Daley agreed. âOnly heâs covering up for somebody. Why should he try to protect that big fellow he tried to frame last night?â

âHow about Alf?â Joe broke in. âWhatâs his story?â

âWe have Lundborg in a cell,â Lieutenant Daley answered. âOf course he denies any part in the beating.â

âWe canât hold him much longer,â put in Chief Collig. âThereâs no evidence against him.â

âOf course not! Alf wouldnât beat up a fellow half his size,â Joe declared.

âThen why did Sutton mumble Lundborgâs name in his delirium?â the chief countered.

âSutton had a grudge against Alf. It must have been on his mind,â Frank suggested.

âThat could be,â Chief Collig conceded. âHow have you two boys been making out? Any new dues on Chet or Biff? We have none.â

âNo, we havenât,â Frank answered. âWe went out to Hermit Island on a hunch this afternoon, but had no luck there, either.â

âDo you know anything about that hermit, Chief?â Joe inquired.

âA little,â the chief returned. âRemember him, Daley? Queer old bird. Somebody left him the whole island in a will. He said it was just the place he wanted, to get away from the crazy world!â

âYes.â The tall lieutenant chuckled. âHe moved out there for good some years ago. Never let anybody land on his island.â

âWe found that out. He chased us off pretty fast this afternoon,â Joe said.

âWha-a-t?â drawled the lieutenant, turning for a good look at the boy.

âWho are you kidding?â Chief Collig grinned.

âWhatâs so funny?â Joe asked. âHe threatened us with a shotgun.â

âThatâs impossible,â Chief Collig said flatly. âHeâs dead!â

Frank and Joe looked at each other in astonishment. âThen heâs a mighty spry dead man,â Joe declared.

Chief Collig shook his head. âThe hermit died last fall and the Coast Guard brought him back to the mainland for burial. He had no one to leave the island to, so it belongs to the state.â

âWow!â Joe cried out. âThen the man we saw isnât the real hermit and had no right to order us off.â

âRight,â Chief Collig agreed. âItâs state property. Anyone can go there. My jurisdiction doesnât cover it. Report this man to the Coast Guard.â

âWe will, if he bothers us again,â Frank stated.

After leaving the police station, the young detectives walked along Bayportâs main street toward Mr. Frenchâs costume store.

âThat phony hermit wasnât joking,â Frank said. âHe wanted us off the island and no fooling. What do you think heâs up to?â

Joe stopped short and said excitedly, âWhat if Chet and Biff were taken to Hermit Island?â

âThen this faker might know about the kidnaping. Is he in on the game, too?â

âThe old guy could be holding them prisoner,â Joe went on. âThatâs why he chased us away! He didnât dare risk having us looking around.â

âHermit Island isnât very far away from Shantytown,â Frank said. âThe rubber mask we found could have floated out from one place as well as from the other, depending on the tide.â

âBut how about the pieces of the boysâ costumes the police found among the shacks?â Joe asked, perplexed. âHow do they fit in with the Hermit Island theory?â

âChet and Biff couldâve been transported to the island from Shantytown,â reasoned Frank.

As he spoke, the brothers came to the costume shop. âI hope Mr. French is here,â Frank said. âWeâll ask him why heââ

The boys suddenly gasped and stared in amazement at the big display window of the store. In it were a gorilla and a magician costume!

âThe same kind of suits we were wearing the night Biff and Chet disappeared!â Frank cried out.

âYes,â Joe agreed in high excitement. âAnd that was the night of the bank robbery!â

CHAPTER XIV

Signal Three

âTHEREâS something queer about this costume store,â Frank said positively. âMaybe the bank robbers got their masks here!â

âAnd Mr. French came to our house in the middle of the night to tell us about it, then lost his nerve,â Joe added.

âWhy are the same costumes in this window as those we wore?â Frank wondered. âAre they a signal to somebody?â

âThereâs one way to find out,â Joe replied. âWeâll ask Mr. French himself.â He pushed the heavy glass door.

It was locked. Peering inside the store, the boys saw that it was deserted. A shaft of light from the back room pierced the late-afternoon shadows within. Joe banged on the heavy glass with his knuckles but no one came.

âLetâs try the back entrance,â Frank muttered.

An alley separated the costume store from the next building. The boys slipped along this cobbled passageway to a dingy yard behind the shop. Quietly they stepped up to the rear door. Voices could be heard inside.

As Joe raised his fist to knock, Frank grabbed his arm. âWait! Listen!â

A manâs voice droned on indistinguishably, then snapped out a single, sharp word.

âKidnap!â

Breathless, Frank and Joe strained to hear more.

âYou fools!â said a new voice derisively.

A third speaker broke in harshly. The phrase âno second mistakeâ rasped out clearly.

â... signal three ...â came another snatch.

The Hardys listened intently but were unable to catch any more of the conversation.

Silently Frank beckoned Joe into the alley. âI have a hunch!â he said. âChet was wearing a gorilla suit just like mine. What if he and Biff were kidnaped in place of you and me?â

Joeâs eyes widened with excitement. âThen the kidnapers are the bank robbersâand they would still be out to get us!â he exclaimed. âThatâs what they meant by âno second mistakeâ!â

Frank nodded. âTheyâre probably holding Chet and Biff because theyâre afraid to let them go!â

âBut why were they after us in the first place?â Joe asked, puzzled.

âI donât know,â Frank admitted. âBut I have a plan. Come on! We must act fast!â

The boys ran from the alley and hailed a passing taxi. When they reached home, the brothers found that their father had just returned and was in his study. Fenton Hardy listened in concern and amazement to his sonsâ discovery.

âHow Iâd like to pick up those thugs and question them!â he exclaimed. âBut that would only tip them off.â

âAnd we havenât enough evidence to hold them,â Frank added.

Mr. Hardy frowned. âThe best we can do is put a police tail on them and hope to find out more that way.â He reached for the phone.

âWait, Dad!â Frank pleaded. âI have a scheme. Joe and I will go back to the shop. Weâll let them kidnap us. Then Colligâs men will really have something on the gang and can nab them.â

âI donât know,â their father considered. âItâs plenty risky.â

âPlease, Dad,â Joe urged. âThe faster we crack the case, the sooner weâll find Chet and Biff.â

Fenton Hardy was concerned for his sonsâ safety, but was proud of their willingness to risk capture for the sake of their missing chums.

âAll right,â he agreed. âIâll alert the police. Weâll station ourselves outside the store. As soon as the gang tries to take you away, weâll close in!â

âGood,â said Frank, satisfied.

As their father dialed headquarters, he checked his watch and said to Frank and Joe, âGive Collig and me twenty minutes from now to get set. Then go into the store.â

The boys sped downtown on their motorcycles, parked near the costume shop, and slipped down the alley. The men were still talking inside the back room of the store. The brothers waited, eyes fixed on their wrist watches.

âNow!â Frank whispered at last. âLetâs take the chance that âsignal threeâ means knock three times!â

The boys walked to the back door and Frank gave three hard raps.

Immediately the voices became silent. A lock clicked and the door swung a few inches inward. A manâs face peered out at the boys. He was the speedboat pilot with the slicked-back hairâthe one Mr. Caine had identified as Ben Stark!

Frank and Joe gave no sign of recognition. Starkâs eyes, however, widened in astonishment.

âI know the store is closed,â Frank said to him, âbut we need something desperately. Weâre the Hardy boys. May we come in?â

Starkâs expression changed from amazement to oily politeness. âOf course, boys!â he answered, and swung the door wide. âCome right inside!â

Frank and Joe passed into a dim storeroom, lighted by a single bulb overhead. On one side, two tough-looking men they had never seen before eyed them in stunned silence. Ben Stark closed the door and stood with his back against it.

âSo you are the famous Hardy boys!â he said, smiling widely. âOf course Iâve heard of you, but I donât think weâve met before.â

Stark looked hard at them, but the boysâ expressions betrayed nothing. He indicated his companions. âThis is Mr. Moran and Mr. Duke,â he said. Moran nodded. Duke, a lanky, pale-faced man, merely stared.

âHavenât I heard that youâve been working on a new case?â Stark asked. âWhat do you suppose has happened to your missing friends?â

Recognizing the attempt to pump them, the young sleuths played along.

âThey must have drowned,â Frank replied sadly. He made no reference to the postcard in Chetâs handwriting.

For a moment Stark looked puzzled. Then he said with exaggerated sympathy, âIsnât it strange thereâs been so much excitement in town lately? Even a bank robbery!â

âThat wonât be a mystery for long,â Frank boasted to test the manâs reaction. âMy father, Fenton Hardy, has it practically solved. The robbers had better watch out!â

Ben Starkâs oily smile faded. He looked hard at his two companions by the wall. Catching the signal, the men left their places and casually drew nearer to Frank and Joe. Both boys sensed the coming attack and summoned all their will power to appear nonchalant.

âBy the way, whereâs Mr. French?â Joe asked, glancing casually around the room. There was no answer.

The next instant the three men lunged forward and leaped on the brothers!

Boxes tumbled from shelves in the struggle, and the single light bulb swung crazily from the ceiling. Frank pretended to be fighting off his assailants, but finally he allowed his arms to be pinioned.

Joe, meanwhile, had been thrown against a bank of shelves and had fallen to the floor as though stunned. Panting, the men quickly bound, gagged, and blindfolded the two young detectives.

âNow,â gloated Stark, âif your old man and the police donât call off the hunt for the bank robbers, theyâll never see you again!â

Frank and Joe listened intently, hoping to learn more, but the men said nothing further.

A door slammed. There was a short, silent wait. Then they heard a car engine running in the yard behind the store.

âOkay!â came Starkâs voice. âCoast is clear!â

Frank and Joe were lifted up, carried a little way, then dropped on the floor of the automobile.

Tensely the two boys waited to hear police whistles and Chief Collig barking orders. But the car began to move, rolling swiftly out the alley, and away.

âWhat happened to our plan?â Frank wondered. âWhereâs Dad?â

âWe must have gone in too soon,â Joe thought, dismayed. âThe police couldnât get here in time!â

As the car drove on, Frank and Joe recognized the sounds of heavy traffic all around them. Gradually the vehicle picked up speed. The engine purred steadily, and the tires whined along on what could only be open highway.

Presently the car swerved, bumped over uneven ground a short distance, and stopped. In the sudden silence the blindfolded youths could hear the sound of surf on the beach.

âWeâre near the shore,â Frank reasoned. âShantytown perhaps. The time it took getting here seems about the same as when we came before.â

The car doors were opened. Again the boys were lifted and carried. A minute later each of them felt a jarring pain as he was dropped on a wooden floor. Rough hands ripped away their blindfolds.

Although tightly bound, the Hardys struggled to sitting positions. They were in a small board shack. A little light came through a tiny window high up in one of the walls.

Ben Stark and Moran were going out the door. Stark looked back. âKeep your eyes open, Duke,â he ordered sharply. âThose kids are slippery.â

âDonât worry,â the pale-faced man replied insolently.

After his two companions had left, he went to a water bucket in one corner, dipped in a tin cup, and drank thirstily. Then he sat down in a wooden chair and tilted back lazily against the wall.

Frank and Joe listened anxiously for sounds of rescue. They could hear the sea, but nothing else.

Carefully they looked over their prison. The shack was crudely built out of broken crates and old two-by-fours. Long, sharp points of nails stuck through the wall near Dukeâs chair. At the rear of the room was a little squat wood-burning stove.

Cramped and helpless, the boys could only wait. As night came on, Duke stood up and lighted a kerosene lantern hanging on the wall. Then he sat down and tilted back his chair again.

âMight as well face it,â thought Frank. âRescue isnât coming.â He looked at Joe with silent urgency, and his eyes said plainly, âItâs up to us!â

CHAPTER XV

Outwitting a Suspect

ALTHOUGH bound and gagged, the Hardys exchanged messages. Frankâs glance slid to their guard, tilted back in his chair against the wall. Then he looked at his brother.

Joe nodded slightly to show he understood and looked toward the lantern. The glass was turning black with soot and the room was in deep shadow.

âLucky itâs dark in here,â he thought, âbecause weâll have to get these ropes off without being seen.â

Frankâs eyes fastened on the long nails he had seen sticking through the wall near the chair legs. If only he could get his back to those sharp points!

Cautiously he inched toward the wall. Duke, who appeared to be asleep, did not stir. Joe also moved. Bit by bit, the brothers worked their way closer to the protruding nails.

At last Frank sat with his back against the wall, not far from the guardâs chair. Hardly daring to breathe, he felt behind him until a tenpenny spike pricked his wrist. If he was lucky, his scheme would work!

Frank eyed his captor. The man was still asleep. Quickly Frank rubbed the rope against the sharp point. He could feel the strands separate, one at a time. His arms and back ached, but he kept on doggedly.

Finally the rope was severed. His hands freed, he removed the gag, then pulled out his pocket-knife and cut the ropes around his ankles. Reaching over, he cut Joeâs bonds.

Then Frank seized a leg of Dukeâs tilted chair and jerked it out from under the guard. Slam! Duke fell on his back and cried out.

Frank and Joe leaped on him together, but he rolled away. As he bounced to his feet, Joe brought him down with a tackle.

Fighting desperately, the guard kicked, bit, scratched, and finally broke away. Gasping, he backed into a corner. As Frank went after him, Duke grabbed the kerosene lantern and hurled it. The boys ducked.

Crash! The glass shattered and kerosene drenched the opposite wall. A flame licked up the side of the shack.

âWater!â Joe yelled. âThe bucket!â

He tore off his shirt and tried to beat out the flames. At the same time, Frank and Duke grappled for the pail. Duke jerked it away and flung it at Joe. The bucket narrowly missed him, slamming against the wall. The water splashed over onto the flames with a hissing sound.

âYou young fools! Iâll get you for this!â Duke picked up the chair and raised it over his head. But Frank swung a right-hand haymaker. It caught Duke in the solar plexus and he went down in a heap.

âHeâs out cold!â Joe cried, whipped off his shirt, and finally smothered the flames. âWhat a sock that was!â

Duke moaned and stirred. Swiftly the boys felt around until they found the cut ropes. Panting, they bound their prisonerâs hands and feet.

âThat should hold him,â said Joe as the boys stood up.

âNow, letâs see where we are,â Frank suggested.

Cautiously he opened the shack door and the brothers slipped outside.

âItâs the edge of Shantytown,â Joe whispered after a quick look around.

Across a whitish stretch of sand they could see the dark shacks and beyond them a red glare from beach fires. A nearly full moon sailed in and out of heavy clouds.

Suddenly a figure detached itself from the shadow of the shanties and glided quickly across the sand toward them. Fists ready, Frank and Joe set themselves for a fight!

âPut up your hands!â came a firm command. âYouâre under arrest!â

At the same moment, moonlight fell upon a familiar face. âPat Muster!â Frank exclaimed joyfully. âAre we glad to see you!â

Pat Muster was a plain-clothes man on the Bayport police force. The brawny, red-haired man turned his flashlight on the bruised, disheveled boys. âSo you fought your way out, eh?â he said, putting away his revolver. âToo bad you didnât yell for help. My men and I were staked out by the shacks, keeping an eye on this place.â

Frank grinned ruefully. âI wish weâd known that. We didnât call out, because we were afraid of bringing more of the gang.â

âWhereâs our father?â Joe asked.

âHe took a squad of police and followed Stark and the other fellow. The chief went back to headquarters.â

âI see,â said Frank. âWhen you didnât close in at the store, we thought the plan had backfired.â

âYour father suggested that we follow you, on the chance of locating the rest of the gang. Sorry I left you in the shack so long,â he added. âI was hoping some more of these tough birds would turn up and weâd make a bigger haul.â

âWe have one of them for you,â Joe said, âall trussed up and ready to go.â

Pat Muster chuckled. âIâve got to hand it to you, boys,â he said. âYou always deliver the goods!â

He turned toward the shanties and gave a low whistle. Here and there a half dozen figures appeared from the shadows and crossed to join the boys and Muster at the shack.

âWait here,â the officer ordered his men. He and the Hardys entered the shanty. The detective beamed his flashlight on the prone figure of Duke, who blinked and scowled.

âNow that youâre awake,â Frank said, âyouâd be smart to tell us where our missing chums are.â

The man glared and did not answer.

âDonât waste time on him,â Joe advised. âLetâs search this place. Maybe the bank loot is hidden here.â

Frank and Joe borrowed flashlights from two of the men outside and began to help Detective Muster. They inspected the crude walls and flooring. Finally, they stood up, disappointed.

âNothing,â Frank said, âand thereâs no other place to hide anything except in the little stove.â

At this, Duke darted an apprehensive look at the stove. In two quick strides Frank reached it, lifted the stove lid, and plunged his hand inside.

âThereâs something here!â he exclaimed. He pulled out a limp object. âA rubber mask! I think there are more!â he added quickly, reaching in again. One after another, he brought out four additional false faces.

Joe whistled. âThe bank robbersâ masks! What a find! This shack must have been their headquartersâfor a time, at least!â

âGreat work, Frank!â Detective Muster congratulated him. âThereâll probably be plenty of fingerprints on those masks.â He pulled a large folded paper sack from his pocket and opened it. âDrop them in here.â

The detective summoned two of his men to unbind the prisoner. Then they handcuffed Duke and led him to the police cars hidden in the pines on the other side of Shore Road. Muster and the boys followed. When they reached headquarters, Chief Collig sent the rubber masks to his lab for immediate fingerprint analysis. Finally he turned to the Hardys. âLetting yourselves be kidnaped was a daring stunt, boys. But you got results.â He looked at Duke, who sat beside him, scowling.

Frank drew the chief aside and asked quietly, âHow about Dad and his men? Have they located Chet and Biff?â

The chief shook his head. âThey should have radioed in by now,â he replied. âLetâs see what we can get out of the prisoner.â He walked over and stood in front of Duke. âIf you know whatâs good for youââ he began but was interrupted by a clatter of feet outside.

The next moment Ben Stark and Moran, handcuffed together, entered the chiefâs office, followed by Fenton Hardy and two policemen.

âDad!â cried Joe. âDid you find Chet and Biff?â

âNo,â said his father quietly. âAre you boys all right? You look as if youâd had a rough time.â

âWeâre okay,â Frank assured his father quickly. âTell us your story.â

âWe followed Stark and Moran from Shantytown,â his father explained. âThey drove down to the docks and sat there, apparently waiting for a boat. When it didnât show up, they headed back to Shantytown. So did we. As soon as I saw that Pat was missing from his station, I knew you boys and your guard had been brought here. We arrested these two right in the shack.â

âDo Stark and Moran know where Biff and Chet are?â Joe asked.

âI think they know all right,â Fenton Hardy said grimly. âBut theyâre not talking.â

Frank and Joe looked disappointed.

âCheer up,â Chief Collig advised them. âYouâve done a terrific job. We can hold these three on a charge of kidnaping you. After weâve checked the prints on the masks you found, weâll probably be able to identify them conclusively as the bank robbers.â

After the sullen prisoners were taken away, Frank and Joe told their father and the police what had happened to them. Then the Hardys left the station and piled into the detectiveâs car.

âWeâll pick up our motorcycles tomorrow,â Frank said.

When they reached home, the three shared a late supper of cold chicken, milk, and apple pie. Then they went straight to bed.

The next morning, as the boys were coming downstairs to breakfast, the telephone rang. âIâll get it,â said Mr. Hardy, picking up the receiver.

A few minutes later he joined the boys in the dining room. âThat was Chief Collig,â the detective announced. âThe fingerprints of Ben Stark, Fritz Stark, Duke, and Moranâall wanted by the policeâwere on the masks. One set of prints is unidentified.â

âThey probably belong to the big bald fellow,â said Frank. âThe one Mr. Caine mentioned.â

âCaine!â exclaimed their father. âIn all the excitement I forgot to tell you that Mr. Caine phoned yesterday just after you left for the costume shop. He wants you to call him.â

At this news the boys hurried to the hall and Frank dialed the long-distance call to Northport. In a few seconds Frank was speaking to the friendly dock manager.

âYou remember those fellows who rented the Black Cat from me?â he asked. âWell, one of âem left an empty envelope in his hotel room. I own the hotel, thatâs how I found it. Thought it might help you to track âem down. Fritz Starkâs address is on it.â

âThatâs wonderful, Mr. Caine!â Frank cried out, and said to Joe, âHe has what might be the Starksâ address.â Turning back to the telephone, Frank asked, âWhere was the letter from?â

âLet me see ...â the dock manager said. âItâs from Worldwide Radio Distributors, Yokohama, over in Japan!â

CHAPTER XVI

Skeleton Symbol

âMR. CAINE,â said Frank in a puzzled tone, âmay I have the address on the letter?â

After jotting down the information, Frank thanked him and said good-by. He told Joe, âJust a San Francisco hotel. But the sender was the distributor for radios in Yokohama.â

âSutton had a Yokohama radio!â Joe exclaimed. âAnd we saw him talking to Ben Stark that day at Shantytown.â

âThe radio seems to be a connection between them,â Frank pointed out. âI think weâd better go back to the hi-fi shop, and find out more about the identity of Yokohama Super-X purchasers.â

After eating breakfast, the boys hurried off, first to pick up their motorcycles, then to go to the hi-fi shop. When they entered the store, the young clerk was glad to see them.

âChange your minds, fellows?â he asked hopefully. âLike to buy one of those sets?â

âWe would like to look at them,â Frank replied.

Immediately the clerk bustled off and returned with four of the compact little radios. âGo ahead,â he invited. âTry them.â

While Joe flicked the button on one set, the young man said, âThese are neat. As I told you the other day, we buy them from a distributor in Japan.â In response to Frankâs query about who had purchased them, the clerk gave the customersâ names, all familiar to the Hardy3. None of them could be suspect.

âThree of these radios came in yesterday afternoon. I could give you boys a good price, since we bought them at a big discount.â

âHow come?â Frank asked.

âWell, we didnât buy these from the distributor,â the clerk admitted. âThese were brought in by a fellow who wanted to sell them at a secondhand price, even though theyâre brand new. My boss snapped up all three. He knows a bargain.â

âI see.â Frank nodded. âNo questions asked.â

âOh, itâs not anything illegal,â the clerk hastened to say. âThey were brought in by a respectable businessman, Mr. French, who owns the costume store down the street.â

âMr. French!â the boys echoed in amazement.

âYes. Whatâs so strange about that?â

âOh, nothing, I guess,â Frank replied. âYou just reminded us that we must see Mr. French ourselves right away. The radios will have to wait. Come on, Joe!â

While the mystified clerk stared after the Hardys, they bolted from the shop and hurried along the sidewalk toward the costume shop.

âMr. French again,â Joe muttered, shaking his head. âIs he one of this gang?â

âSomehow I trust him,â Frank replied. âMaybe the robbers are forcing him to play along with them, and have threatened harm to his family unless he does.â

âHe didnât look very happy the afternoon we picked up our costumes,â Joe recalled. âThose men in his shop were threatening him. And when he came to our house in the middle of the night, it was no mistake!â

âHe knows Dadâs a detective,â Frank said. âI think he wanted him and was confused when we answered the door.â

âWell, weâll soon find out,â Joe said as they neared the shop.

âIt looks closed,â Frank remarked. The heavy door was shut and the blinds drawn. Going closer, the boys saw a sign in the window:

CLOSED INDEFINITELY

Â 

âI wonder why,â said Joe. âHas Mr. French gone out of business?â

âHey,â Frank cried out, âwhere are the gorilla and magician outfits that were in the window yesterday afternoon?â

Only one costume was now on displayâa skeleton suit, which stood up with outspread arms, like a scarecrow!

âI hate to think what that costume means, if itâs a signal,â Joe said.

âNever mind,â Frank said. âWe must find Mr. French. Perhaps he lives over the store.â Frank strode to a door at one side of the building. âYes, hereâs his name on the bell plate.â

Impatiently the young detective jabbed with his thumb at the button. The bell sounded loudly but no one answered.

âHey!â came a sharp voice. âWhat are you two doing here?â

Frank and Joe whirled to face their two chums Jerry Gilroy and Tony Prito.

âWeâre sleuthing around,â Joe replied, and grinned. âWhat are you fellows up to?â

Tony explained that he and Jerry were on an errand for Mr. Prito, then asked, âHave you found out anything more about Chet and Biff?â

âWe found out plenty!â Joe exploded. âChet and Biff were kidnaped by the bank robbers, who mistook them for Frank and me.â

âWhat!â cried Tony and Jerry. While they listened intently, Frank and Joe gave the details of their adventure the night before.

âBut where is the gang holding them?â Jerry wondered. âCould it be Hermit Island?â

âCould be,â Frank said. âWe found out the hermit we saw is a fake. The real oneâs dead.â

âAnd when Dad trailed Stark and Moran last night,â Joe put in, âthey went to the dock and waited for a boat. That could mean the rest of the gangâand Chet and Biffâare some place only accessible by water.â

âThen what are we waiting for?â urged Jerry. âLetâs head for Hermit Island!â

âYesâand no girls this time,â Tony added. âThat phony hermit carries a shotgun, and if the robbers are there, the danger is double.â

âRight,â Frank said. âWeâd better take both boats, Tony. In case of trouble, weâll be able to split up, or help each other.â

Tony agreed eagerly. âThen weâll meet you at your dock at one-thirty,â Frank told him.

As their two friends hurried off, Frank and Joe walked to their motorcycles and rode home.

As they dismounted in front of their garage, Aunt Gertrude appeared behind the back screen door, wringing her hands nervously.

âHi, Auntie!â Joe called cheerfully. âWhere are Mother and Dad?â

âYour mother has gone shopping and your fatherâs off on some more detective work! Thereâs a giant in the living room waiting for you.â

âA what?â Joe asked, entering the house.

Aunt Gertrude made a sweeping motion with her arms. âA man,â she said, âa great big man!â

Laughing, Frank led the way into the living room. This must be Alf Lundborg!

The visitorâs huge frame certainly dwarfed the Hardysâ furniture. Grinning, he shook each brotherâs hand in his crushing grip.

âIâm out of jail again,â he told them. âSutton wouldnât say I attacked him, so they finally let me go.â

âI knew you didnât do it, Alf,â said Joe.

The stevedoreâs good-natured face clouded. âNo, I wouldnât touch a little weasel like Sutton,â he agreed. âBut it makes me sore to be accused of doing it! What I came to tell you, though, is thisâI know who did beat him up. It was one of his own pals!â

âBen Stark?â Frank asked curiously.

âNo, a fellow they call Pops. Remember I told you about the bunch who were always fighting with one another? Well, Sutton and Pops do most of it. Pops finally gave it to him good, but Sutton wonât tell the police.â

âThat must mean theyâre in something illegal together,â Frank reasoned. âHow about this Pops, Alfâis he an old man?â

âNo. Although heâs bald, heâs younger than Suttonâbigger and stronger. Talks loud, too. I donât know why they call him Pops.â

Frank and Joe looked at each other excitedly. Both immediately thought of Ben Starkâs pal who was still at large. Could Pops be the Fizzle soda drinker?

âThanks for telling us, Alf,â said Joe. âWeâre glad youâre out of jail. Youâve been in twice and both times because of us.â

âYou couldnât help it,â replied their big friend, âand you spoke up for me both times. I appreciate that.â

After Alf had left, the brothers had some lunch, then headed for the waterfront on their motorcycles.

Tony and Jerry were already in the Napoli when the Sleuth came alongside the Prito dock. With serious, determined faces the four friends headed for Hermit Island.

As soon as they reached the ocean, the boys were confronted by a fast-darkening sky and choppy sea. With incredible swiftness, black clouds, with chains of lightning snapping underneath them, moved in from the south. Large raindrops began to pelt the boys. In another moment the darkness closed around them like nightfall. Lightning flashed on the heaving ocean and the rain smacked down on them almost painfully.

âWhy didnât we bring slickers!â Joe exclaimed.

Through it all, Joe kept the Sleuthâs nose pointed northward. Presently, illuminated by the lightning, a rocky mass came into view.

âThereâs the island,â Frank called out. âA motorboatâs just pulling away, Joe!â

âLetâs chase it!â Joe cried. âSome of the gang may be aboard and are escaping.â

âNot now,â Frank cautioned. âChet and Biff come first!â As the boys watched, the dark-brown craft disappeared in the distance.

As suddenly as it had come up, the black squall passed over. The Sleuth and the Napoli circled toward the islandâs beach. By this time the rain had stopped.

The clouds parted, blue sky appeared, and the sun beat down again. Under its burning heat the boysâ clothes began to dry out.

âThe stormâs probably driven that phony hermit under cover,â Joe said. âLetâs get ashore before he spots us.â

The boys found a small cove fringed with small, scrubby oak trees. Quickly concealing their boats in this cover, they debarked and set out on the path around the island.

This time no one disturbed them. The trail climbed and then dropped down to the level of the shore again. Overhead loomed the wet bluff.

Suddenly Frank stopped and pointed to a dark opening in the gray rock ahead. âA cave!â he said quietly.

The boys crept nearer. Just outside the caveâs entrance, Frank lifted a warning hand.

âVoices!â he whispered.

CHAPTER XVII

Hermitâs Hideout

HOLDING themselves rigid against the damp rock, the four boys strained to listen. Somewhere inside the cave a man was talking rapidly, but his words were muffled and indistinct.

âWhatâs he saying?â whispered Tony.

Frank motioned for the others to hold their places. Then he lay on his stomach and inched cautiously forward until his head was just outside the cave opening. From this position he could hear what was going on inside.

âWell, whatâs happening?â Jerry whispered impatiently. âTug at his ankle, Joe!â

But just then Frank came wriggling backward. He jumped to his feet, and clutching his sides, hastened some distance down the path.

Joe, Tony, and Jerry ran after him.

âFrankâwhatâs the matter?â his brother asked. âWhat was he saying?â

Frank tried to speak, but his chest heaved with suppressed laughter. Finally he managed to tell them: âThe fellow was saying... âB-buy B-b-butterfly Baby Foodsâ!â

Frank could hear what was going on inside

âWha-a-t!â The three boys looked at one another, completely mystified.

âWe were listening to a radio,â Frank blurted out. âThe announcer was giving a commercial!â

âYou mean the hermitâs in there, listening to the radio?â Joe asked.

âI couldnât see,â Frank replied. âMaybe Chet and Biff are there! Itâs likely, anyhow, that their guard went in to avoid the rain. Now that itâs over, heâll probably come out again. Our best move is to find a good spot to lie in wait for him.â

Near the cave mouth the boys found a large, brush-protected boulder and hid themselves behind it. For some time they waited. From inside the cave, snatches of music alternated with the announcerâs voice.

At last Joe could stand it no longer. âMaybe thereâs nobody inside!â he burst out impatiently. âIâm going to have a look!â

âCareful!â Frank whispered, as his brother slipped out of hiding.

Joe darted to the path, lay down, and inched himself forward until he could see into the cavern. For several minutes he peered inside, then scrambled back behind the boulder.

âSomebody is in there!â he reported. âHeâs asleep and forgot to turn off his radio.â

âAny sign of Chet and Biff?â Frank asked.

Joe shook his head. âNo.â

âDo you think itâs the hermit?â Jerry asked.

âI donât know,â Joe replied. âAnyway, heâs alone.â

âWe could surprise this fellow while heâs asleep,â Tony said.

Frank nodded. âBut Chet and Biff may be somewhere else on the island. Letâs search while the fellow in the cave is asleep.â

âGood idea,â Joe agreed. âLook for a hut or shelter where the boys might be prisoners.â

A brief examination of the gray bluff revealed a narrow cleft leading to the top of the precipice. Joe, ascending first, found himself on another path which seemed to rim the island from the top of the bluffs.

âHereâs the trail the hermit used to keep us in sight yesterday,â he told the others.

After scrambling up, Frank, Tony, and Jerry paused for a look about. Below them sparkled the bright ocean, extending to the mainland a few miles away. Behind lay a little plateau, overgrown with small pines and scrub oaks. In the center of the flat area rose a steep, rocky hill which gave the island its humping silhouette.

âA hut would be easy to camouflage among those trees,â Frank remarked. âWeâll have to spread out and comb every foot of the woods.â

Though the youths worked carefully around the plateau, they found no sign of any shelter. On the islandâs seaward side, where the growth was sparse, the boys checked the sides of the steep hill for caves. They saw none.

âIt doesnât look very hopeful,â Joe said at last. âIf Biff and Chet were brought here, theyâve probably been carried off by now.â

âThe robbers might still be using this place,â Jerry insisted. âItâs a perfect hideout.â

âThey could have come here with the loot from the bank,â Tony added, âand used the phony hermit to scare off intruders.â

âPerhaps the gang is using the island merely as a stopping-off place,â Frank suggested. âWith this hill right in the middle, a lookout could spot boats approaching from miles away.â

âOf course!â Joe took him up eagerly. âThatâs how the hermit happened to be waiting for us yesterday. Today is different. Donât forget that boat we saw pulling away. Chet and Biff may have been put aboard!â

âRight,â said Joe. âLetâs climb to the top of the hill and determine how far we can see.â

Sparked by the new idea, the four boys attacked the steep hill at the center of the island. They worked their way among the rocks and pulled themselves upward by means of the short, tough brush.

âWhat a rough climb!â Jerry gasped.

As they climbed higher, the vegetation became too flimsy to use as support, and the hillâs cone became even steeper. Still the boys pressed upward, panting, with Frank in the lead. Finally he clambered onto a flat, wind-swept area at the topâabout twenty feet acrossâand threw himself down to rest.

Joeâs head popped into view over the edge, and then Jerryâs. Suddenly, from below them, came a sharp cry.

âTony!â yelled Joe and Jerry together.

Sitting up, Frank saw a cloud of dust and stones tumbling and bouncing down the hill. A whole section of ground slid like a carpet along the steep slope, with Tony in the middle of it!

Frank, Joe, and Jerry slid in pursuit, bracing their feet hard against the slope like skiers!

Partly covered by loose earth, Tony Prito lay on his back where the hillside leveled off. He grinned up weakly at his three chums.

âYou okay, Tony?â Joe cried anxiously.

âThink so. Canât seem to get up, though.â

âWhere are you hurt?â Frank asked.

âAnkle,â Tony answered, rising to one knee.

Immediately a wince of pain crossed his face and he sank back again. Quickly Frank and Joe lifted their comrade to a standing position.

âTry now, Tony,â Jerry urged. âPut just a little weight on it.â

Though Tonyâs left leg appeared sturdy enough, the right one buckled at any pressure.

âIt might be a fracture,â Frank said. âWeâll get you to a doctor, Tony.â

While Jerry steadied the injured boy, Frank and Joe made a chair for him by interlocking their hands. Then they lifted Tony, who braced himself with one arm across each brotherâs shoulder.

Slowly the little procession made its way down to the level of the plateau. Moving more rapidly now, they followed the path around to the mainland side of the island.

Once among the scrub oaks and pines, the trail became too narrow for three persons to move abreast. Frank and Joe had to kick their way through the brush on each side as they advanced.

When they neared the beach at last, a small pine clump hindered Frankâs progress. He kicked out determinedly.

âHey, whatâs that?â cried Tony from his perch.

A dark garment, struck by Frankâs foot, flopped into the path!

âA sailorâs pea jacket,â Jerry reported, stooping down. âAnd here are some more, under this pine brush.â

âPea jackets?â Frank exclaimed. âThatâs what the bank robbers wore!â

CHAPTER XVIII

Hidden Watchers

âTHE bandits have been here!â Frank exclaimed. âFellows, weâre on the right track after all!â

âWait till Chief Collig sees these pea jackets!â Joe exulted. âPick âem up, Jerry. Boy, what a bundle of clues!â

Jerry gathered the five bulky, damp jackets in his arms and staggered forward. Almost immediately a low-hanging oak branch snagged one of the coats and pulled it from his grasp.

âWeâll never get to the boats at this rate,â he despaired.

Frank, however, was more interested at this moment in the number of jackets. âThere were only four robbers,â he pointed out. âWho wore the fifth coat?â

âThe driver of the getaway car, probably,â Joe said. âHere, Jerry! Weâll put Tony down for a minute. Why donât each of us put on a coat and you can carry the other one. Thatâll make it easier.â

Swiftly the boys donned the jackets. Now Jerry moved ahead without difficulty, and the Hardys followed with Tony as fast as they could.

When they reached the top of the bluff that overlooked the cove where the boats lay hidden, the party paused for breath. Here was a fresh obstacle! Tony had to be lowered down the steep slope to the level of the beach!

âWeâll slide him down,â Frank decided. âJoe, you stay just below Tony, and keep his injured ankle from striking anything. Jerry and I can make a sling of our belts and lower him from one level to another.â

Slowly the injured boy was brought from foothold to foothold, down to the sand. When they reached the boats, Tonyâs face was drawn and pale.

âGosh, Tonyâdid we bump you too much coming down?â Frank asked solicitously.

âNo, itâs not your fault, fellows,â their friend protested bravely. âMy ankleâs just starting to throb a little.â

âSwelling, too,â Frank noted with a frown. âHere, Joe, letâs get him into the Steuth. Iâll head it for the Coast Guard dock as fast as I can. You and Jerry follow in the Napoli.â

In another moment the Sleuthâs powerful engine roared to life. Hastily stripping off the pea jacket, Frank bent over the wheel. Tony sat beside him, suffering in silence. The sleek craft sped across open water toward Bayport.

Meanwhile, Joe and Jerry threw the other pea jackets into the Napoli. Starting her engine, Joe piloted the slower speedboat out of the cove and along the island shore.

âJoe!â Jerry pointed to a boat coming around the island toward them.

âOh, boy, this is trouble!â Joe exclaimed. âHang on!â

He brought the wheel around hard. The Napoli swerved and ran in straight toward shore.

Jerry gasped. âYouâre running aground!â

Joe did not answer. He had noticed a narrow fissure which cut through the bluffs, making a tiny V-shaped opening in the shoreline. He ran the Napoli straight into the small slot of water, crashing through low-growing brush at its edges.

âQuick, Jerry,â he directed, shutting off the motor, âgrab some of these pine branches and pull them down on top of us!â

Clutching the sticky, sweet-smelling limbs, the boys crouched low and waited. Soon the slow, regular throb of a boatâs motor could be heard. The strange brown boat, carrying two men, came into view.

The craft seemed to move with maddening slowness. Luckily the two men in it kept looking forward. From his place of concealment, Joe studied them carefully. The one in the stern was a short, muscular fellow, whose shock of white-blond hair gleamed in the sunshine.

âJerry,â Joe hissed, âIâve seen those guys before! They were in Mr. Frenchâs shop when we picked up our costumes!â He added in a whisper, âThe blond one must be Fritz Stark. He looks just like Ben, except for the different-colored hair.â

Jerry gripped Joeâs arm. âHeâs standing up! Heâll see us!â

But Fritz Stark pointed straight ahead of him and called out to the man at the wheel, âNick, take her to the hidden inlet!â

The boys crouched tensely, watching the two men cruise slowly past them. When at last the dark-brown craft was out of sight, the boys took in deep breaths of relief. But the result was disastrous to Jerry.

âKerchoo! Kerchoo!â The sounds echoed off the bluffs behind them and carried far over the water.

âOh, golly, Iâm sorry,â Jerry whispered. âIâm allergic to pine.â

âSh! Keep down,â Joe warned. âMaybe they heard you, and maybe they didnât.â

With hearts pounding, the boys waited. The gentle put-putting sound of the motorboat grew louder and faster, rising in crescendo to an angry roar.

âWeâre in for it,â Joe groaned.

In another moment the prow of the brown boat knifed back into view. This time the men aboard scanned the shoreline suspiciously!

The boys clutched the pine branches in front of them. But it was no use. The Napoliâs hull was clearly visible to their pursuers.

âThere they are!â Fritz Stark shouted. âIn that boat!â

As the banditsâ craft swerved sharply and ran straight up on the concealed boys, Joe whispered, âRun for it, Jerry!â

The thick-growing brush, which had helped to conceal them, now became an obstacle to their flight. Seizing the pithy branches, Joe pulled and squirmed until he could feel solid ground. But when he jumped up and walked, the thick growth clawed at his legs.

Thump! The robbersâ boat crashed into the Napoli. Then the brush began to shake as the men fought their way toward the boys. âGrab them!â Stark yelled.

Jerry caught up to Joe and for an instant the boys hesitated. All around rose the gray, rocky bluffs. Just in front of them, however, was a narrow ravine which Joe had noticed earlier.

âCome on! I think we can make it!â Joe urged.

The boys scrambled madly uphill, their pursuers only yards behind! Hand over hand, they clambered upward. Once Jerry stumbled and Joe paused to help him regain his balance. The short, muscular Stark was now gaining rapidly.

Joe uprooted a small prickly bush and fired it back. The bush hit Stark in the face. He cried out in anger, but kept staggering upward. In a moment he made a leap for Joeâs ankles!

âIâve got you!â he cried as the boy slid backward on his stomach.

âKeep going, Jerry!â Joe shouted before turning to grapple with his antagonist.

At the same time the second man skirted them both, and disappeared over the top of the ravine, pursuing Jerry.

Though Joe fought savagely, Starkâs weight finally won out and soon the boyâs arms were pinned behind him and bound together with a belt.

Then Jerry appeared at the top of the ravine, his arms held securely by Starkâs henchman. âGet down there!â his captor ordered roughly.

While he and the boy descended, Stark eyed Joe with an unpleasant smile.

âHey, Nick,â the blond man called, âlook whoâs here!â

The henchman grinned as he recognized Joe. âOne of the real Hardy boys!â

âWhatâll we do with him and his friend?â

âLoad âem in the boat. Weâll take âem to the cave.â

âWe havenât much time,â Nick warned him.

âDonât worry,â Stark said in a hard voice. âWeâre going to make quick work of âem!â

CHAPTER XIX

Rocky Prison

FEAR showed in Jerryâs eyes and his face paled. Joe stoically hid his emotions at Starkâs ominous threat. The same thought raced wildly through the boysâ minds. What would these men do to them?

While the two men forced Joe and Jerry into the brown boat, Frank was sending the Sleuth full speed toward Bayport harbor. Looking behind him, he frowned, puzzled.

âWhereâs the Napoli, Tony?â he asked. âCan you see it?â

Tony turned his head for a look. âNo,â he answered.

âThey shouldnât be so far behind us,â Frank said.

From time to time he glanced back uneasily, and as they sped across the bay toward the Coast Guard station, he spoke up worriedly, âThe Napoli isnât that much slower than the Sleuth. Maybe the boat had motor trouble.â

âDonât think so,â Tony said, tight-lipped. âJust had her checked.â

Frank throttled down his engine as the Sleuth slid in beside the pier. Making a line fast to a pile, he leaped onto the ladder and climbed up.

âTake it easy, Tony. Iâll get help,â he said, and sprinted along the wharf to the Coast Guard headquarters.

âI have a fellow in my boat with an injured ankle,â he told Lieutenant Parker breathlessly.

A few moments later four Coast Guardmen, two with a stretcher between them, were running with Frank to the end of the pier. Expertly, the rescue team carried Tony up the ladder and laid him on the stretcher.

âOkay, Tony?â Frank inquired.

âSure,â came the plucky reply. âYouâd better forget me, Frank, and think about Joe and Jerry. Something must have happened to them!â

âWe must get Tony to a doctor,â Frank told Lieutenant Parker, as both hurried along beside the stretcher.

âOur men will take him,â the young officer said. âWe have an emergency vehicle ready at all times. But what was he talking about, Frank? Is something else wrong?â

âIâll tell you in a minute,â the boy replied. âWe might need a cutter and some men soon. May I use your phone?â

Frank went into the Coast Guard station and called police headquarters.

âChief Collig?â he began urgently. âThis is Frank Hardy. Iâm at the Coast Guard pier. Just got back from Hermit Island. Weâve found the jackets the bank robbers were wearing. I have two of them. Joe ought to be here with the others any minute.â

âWhat!â Collig cried in amazement. âStay there. Iâll be right down,â he said.

After hanging up, Frank dashed out of the station and ran to the end of the pier again. Frowning, he scanned the waters of the bay. He could not see the Napoli, and he returned to the station.

âOur men have taken Tony to a doctor,â Lieutenant Parker told him. âHave you found some new clue to the bank robbers or your missing chums, Frank? If thereâs going to be trouble, we want to help.â

Frank quickly gave details and ended with, âIâm worried about Joe and Jerry.â

âWhat do you think happened to them?â

âI donât know. There was one member of the gang on the island when Tony and I left. Maybe more of them came back. The boys may have been trapped.â

âIâll order the cutter at once,â Lieutenant Parker said.

âThanks,â Frank replied. âIf we donât see the Napoli by the time Chief Collig gets here, weâd better move fast!â

Nervously the boy paced about the pier with his eyes fixed on the harbor mouth. Still no Napoli. Frank heard a siren wail and a black police car sped up to the Coast Guard station.

âJoe hasnât come yet,â he told the chief. âIâm afraid something went wrong out at the island.â

âThen weâd better get there fast!â Collig snapped.

The powerful engines of a Coast Guard cutter were rumbling impatiently beside the pier. Frank, Chief Collig, and the two policemen he had brought along hurried aboard. Already a squad of seamen armed with rifles had taken their places. At a signal from Lieutenant Parker the cutter growled out into the bay.

Â 

On Hermit Island the two robbers had hauled Joe and Jerry along the path toward the cave. When they reached the entrance, they noted that the radio inside was still playing.

Starkâs face tightened with anger. âHold them here with your gun, Nick,â he ordered, and disappeared into the cavern. The music stopped suddenly, and Stark came out a few moments later, pushing a heavy, bald-headed man, who blinked in the late-afternoon sunlight.

âItâs the fellow we saw with Ben Stark in the Black Cat!â Joe thought.

He also noted that the man was wearing the same clothing the fake hermit had had on the day before. But this man was clean shaven and in his thirties! âHe must have been wearing a false beard yesterday,â Joe decided.

Fritz Stark glowered at the bald man. âListen, Pops,â he demanded, âhow did these kids get on the island? Youâre supposed to be keeping people awayânot sleeping!â

âPops!â said Joe to himself. âThis is the fellow Alf told us about who beat up Sutton!â

The bald man answered Stark lamely. âI guess I was in the cave and didnât hear them. I figured nobody would be nosing around during the storm.â

âYou fool!â Stark returned harshly. âThese kids found three of our jacketsâI saw them in their boat. What if they had made it to the police?â

âWell, weâve got âem now,â Pops said.

âNo thanks to you!â Nick put in angrily. âYouâre no good for anything but drinking soda and getting into fights!â

âGive him credit for buying postcards in Northport,â Stark said sarcastically.

Pops bristled. âI did my share! We wouldnât have stolen the crate of Yokohama radios so easy, if I hadnât first made the deal with Sutton.â

âWeâd have been better off without that hot-head,â Nick declared.

âHe knew the docks,â Pops retorted. âThanks to him we had inside help. If you guys hadnât been so slow we couldâve taken more crates.â

âOh, he was helpful,â Stark sneered. âHe wasnât satisfied with our bank loot. He brought the Hardys and the police down on our necks by planting a stolen radio on that big stevedore and making the whole bunch hot.â

âAnd fighting with you over his cut every night in Shantytown. Did that help?â Nick asked sourly.

âYou were all pretty careless,â Joe egged them on. âWe heard that an envelope from the Yokohama radio distributors was found in the Starksâ hotel room.â

Pops snorted in triumph. âYou left that, Fritz!â he accused. âIt was you who wrote pretending to be a purchasing agent to find out where their Super-X radio shipments came in.â

âBut Pops left his broken soda bottle in the Sleuth,â Joe prodded.

âThatâs enough!â the bald man ordered. Roughly he shoved the captives toward the gaping cavern.

âHold it!â Stark rasped. âFirst I have a bone to pick with this nosy kid.â Then he cuffed Joe on the ear and laughed wickedly.

âWhat was that for?â Joe complained, trying to draw the man out more.

âYouâd like to know, wouldnât you?â Stark sneered and pushed Joe so hard that he fell to the ground.

âCut it out!â Jerry protested, and lunged forward to help his friend. Nick seized the boy and held him fast.

Stark yanked Joe up by the shoulders and yelled at him, âYou and your pesky brotherâalways interfering with our plans! I had things all worked out!â

âIâll bet you did,â Joe retorted. âWho stole the car in Northport?â

âNick did,â Stark replied, âwhile Ben and Pops took the Black Cat for a spin. Ben found out where your boat was kept, and later Pops took it.â

âHe broke into our boathouse while the rest of your gang was robbing the bank,â Joe egged him on.

âThatâs right, smart boy.â Fritz Stark sneered. âBen was with us. Pops had the Sleuth waiting. We were going to head straight for Hermit Island.â

Despite their predicament, Joe and Jerry could not help but gloat. âInstead, you landed high and dry miles up the coast,â Joe said.

Starkâs face darkened. âYeah. Well, that didnât stop us. We hotfooted it back to Shantytown, picked up Benâs car there, and drove around looking for another fast boat. We found one and âborrowedâ it.â

âBen ran the boat up the coast to Shantytown while I drove back. Iâd heard over the radio your father was working on the bank robbery case. Soon as Ben got back to Shantytown, I told him about it and that Iâd seen you Hardys in the costume store.â

âSo,â Nick broke in, âBen got the idea of kidnaping you two to make your old man drop the case.â

âWe told him what costume your brother was wearing,â Fritz went on.

âAnd he sent two bunglers to do the job,â Nick interrupted resentfully. âMoran and Duke! They drove to Frenchâs place and made him tell where the party was. Then they nabbed the wrong boys!â

âWhere are they now?â Joe demanded. For answer their captors merely laughed.

âWhen did you discover who they were?â Joe asked. âAfter you took them to Shantytown?â

Stark shot him a hard look. âYou know that, too?â

âWhoever tried to burn the costumes and hid the robbery masks didnât do a very good job,â the young sleuth commented. âThey were found.â

âDukeâs carelessness again,â Pops muttered.

Nick cut in. âYou fellows wonât ever find your two friends. And nobody will find you!â

The boys learned the crooks had spotted the Sleuth and pretended to ram her to find out her full power. âWe needed a fast boat for our get away,â Stark said, âand we knew yours would do.â

Joe now said, âWe saw you leaving the island during the storm. Why?â

Stark smiled briefly. âNick and I had urgent business to check on in Bayport and no time to lose! Weâve got one more job to do tonight and then weâre clearing out.â

âAnd we need a fast boat to pull it,â Pops said.

âYou mean youâll leave your own brother in jail!â Joe taunted Stark. âYouâre a real pal!â

The manâs face twitched with rage. âListen, kid, I donât leave my brother in the lurch.â He turned to Pops and snarled, âGet these guys in the cave! Weâll take care of âem later!â

The thug reinforced the belt which held Joeâs hands with stout Manila rope. He tied Joeâs ankles too, and then moved on to bind Jerry. All the while Joe thought over what he had learned. âStark says theyâre doing one more job, and he wonât abandon his brother. That must mean they went to Bayport to plan a jail break, which theyâre going to pull tonight. Then theyâll all flee together!â

âAll rightâinside!â Pops ordered gruffly.

Stumbling in the gloom, Joe and Jerry were dragged far back into the cave. The place smelled musty and damp.

Stark threw them to the ground and walked away.

The boys waited in silence until their eyes became more accustomed to the darkness. Then Joe felt a chill up and down his spine as he discerned the shape of someone lying beside him! Could it be Chet or Biff?

Wriggling over, Joe nudged the unknown prisoner. He moaned, as though dazed, and turned his face upward.

âJumping catfish!â Joe whispered hoarsely. âItâs Mr. French!â

CHAPTER XX

Ambushing the Enemy

âMR. FRENCH, what happened?â Joe asked in amazement.

Painfully the costume dealer drew himself to a sitting position. âIt was terrible,â he answered shakily. âWhere am I? I was blindfolded by the men who brought me here.â

âYouâre in a cave on Hermit Island,â Joe told him. âHow are you mixed up in this, Mr. French? I wondered once if you belonged to the gang.â

âNo!â the man protested. âYou must believe me, boy. The mental anguish Iâve gone through since I sold those men the masks for the robbery! I neglected my business entirelyâdidnât even check my stock.

âFritz Stark and Nick Glaser were in the shop when you stopped in for your costumes that afternoon. They had come to pick up the masks theyâd ordered. I asked if they were going to a party. Glaser laughed and said, âYesâa big surprise party!â When I went in the back to get the masks, I heard them laugh again and mention the bank.â

âSo you put two and two together,â Jerry said.

âThatâs right. I guessed they were crooks.â

âYou should have tipped us off,â Joe said. âWhy didnât you go to the police?â

Mr. French said brokenly, âI had made the mistake of telling them my suspicions and who you were. They said theyâd kill me and harm my family if I talked. I sent my family away for safety.â

âWhy did you come to our house that night?â Joe asked sympathetically.

âThe other morning they began to use my store as one of their meeting places and told me to give my assistant a short vacation. I heard them bragging they were going to kidnap you and your brother. Later something snapped inside me. Robbery is bad enough, but I couldnât let them get away with kidnaping no matter what they did to me. So I went to tell your father everything.â

âBut Frank and I answered the door,â Joe prompted.

âYes,â French agreed. âWhen I saw you were safe, it confused me. Besides, I had a strange feeling I was being followed. I didnât know what to do, so I came away without telling my story.â

âWhat happened then?â Joe asked.

âWell, when Fritz Stark and Nick Glaser came to the shop early yesterday afternoon, I got my nerve back and told them Iâd spill everything if they didnât let me alone.â

âWhat did they do?â Jerry asked.

âStark said theyâd let me alone if Iâd do two things for them. First he made me put the gorilla and the magician suits in the window. They were a signal to the rest of the thieves to knock three times at the back door. The gang was going to have a meeting about something.â

Joe laughed grimly. âYes, to plan to kidnap Frank and me. I guess thatâs why they used our costumes in the window.â

âThere was only one costumeâa skeleton suit âon display this morning,â Jerry remembered.

âFritz Stark put it there last night. He took my key. I overheard him say a single costume meant âDanger. Stay away,â â French explained.

âStark put up the warning signal too late. He didnât know then that half the gang was in jail.â

âThatâs right,â the man said. âIt was after he left the skeleton warning that he found out Ben and the others were captured.â

âIâll bet the second thing they wanted you to do, Mr. French, was to sell three radios to the hi-fi shop,â Joe guessed.

âYes,â said the man, surprised, âand immediately. Glaser walked down to the shop with me and waited on the sidewalk. As I came out, Stark drove up in their car, forced me to get in, and blindfolded me. The last thing I remember before I came to in this cave was trying to break loose and jump out.â

âThey must have slugged you,â Joe said.

âBut what good will it do you to know all this?â Mr. French said despairingly. âWeâll never get out of here alive. These men mean business!â

âSo do we,â Joe promised grimly. In rapid whispers he told the despondent man how he and Frank, by offering themselves as bait, had trapped Ben Stark and his two henchmen. âBut we havenât been able to find Chet and Biff. Do you know where they are?â

The costume dealer shook his head helplessly. âNo. You can see for yourself theyâre not in here. I wanted to look for the stolen money, but naturally I didnât dare. This is the end for us, Iâm afraid.â

Joe tried to reassure him. âMy brother is free. When Jerry and I fail to show up, heâll bring help.â

âI only hope heâs in time,â said Mr. French. âI heard these men planning to leave here in a little while. They said theyâd dispose of me before they push off.â

Jerry looked grimly at Joe. âThat goes for us too, I guess!â

As dusk fell, the prisoners waited anxiously. While Joe tried to keep Mr. Frenchâs spirits up, Jerry watched Stark and Pops passing and repassing before the entrance.

âJoe,â he said after a while, âI havenât seen those two guys outside for the last ten minutes. Do you think somethingâs up?â

The three prisoners stiffened, all senses alert.

âSh!â Joe hissed suddenly. âListen!â In the distance they heard a motorboat.

âThatâs a big one,â Jerry whispered excitedly. âSounds like a cutter.â

âItâs coming here!â Joe said as the sound grew louder. Suddenly it ceased and they heard shouts in the distance, then closer.

âItâs Frank!â Joe exclaimed. âSing out, everybody!â

âHalloo! Frank! Help! In here!â

Their voices rang and echoed hollowly against the rock walls. Before long, the beam of a flash light pierced the cave opening.

âJoe! Jerry!â came an anxious, familiar voice. âYou okay?â

âBack here, Frank!â Joe called eagerly to his brother.

Seconds later, Frank and two young Coast Guardmen were cutting the ropes that bound the prisoners.

âMr. French!â cried Frank in recognition. âSo the gang had you, too! Are Chet and Biff here?â

âNo!â his brother replied worriedly. âAnd neither are the bank robbers.â

Already the cave was filled with men. Flashlight beams flickered up and down the damp walls. Seamen and policemen stood by with guns ready. Chief Collig and Lieutenant Parker hurried into the cave.

âYou boys all right?â he demanded.

âWeâre okay,â Joe answered, âbut we must go after the robbers. Two of themâFritz Stark and Popsâwere here twenty minutes ago. And Nick Glaser, who drove the getaway car, was here too.â

âThey probably spotted the cutter and headed for their boat or the Napoli,â said Joe.

Quickly he described the location of the hidden inlet where the Napoli and the robbersâ stolen craft were concealed. Lieutenant Parker immediately dispatched men to the spot.

âWith a twenty-minute head start,â Joe said, âFritz Stark and the other two probably will get away.â

âBut the cutter could pick them up easily,â Jerry put in.

âRight,â said Frank. âThose men know they havenât a chance against the Coast Guard. I think theyâre hiding here.â

âWhere?â asked Mr. French.

âWeâll comb the island,â Lieutenant Parker said.

âLetâs search this cave first,â Frank suggested. âThereâs a slight draft coming from the back. That might mean thereâs another chamber.â Slowly Frank played the beam of his flashlight over the rear wall until he spotted a narrow crevice. He stepped quickly over and shone his beam into it.

âLook!â he exclaimed softly.

Joe, Chief Collig, and Lieutenant Parker crowded around. In front of them, well inside the opening, hung a piece of burlap. Frank slipped into the crevice and pulled the rough curtain aside. A long rock passage was revealed.

âCome on!â Joe exclaimed. âLetâs go!â

As Joe stepped forward, Chief Collig clamped a hand on his shoulder. âHold it,â the chief ordered. âLet the armed men go first. Those crooks are desperate and wonât hesitate to use their guns.â Reluctantly, all three boys heeded the order.

At Colligâs signal, Parker drew his service revolver and led the men into the narrow rock corridor. The chief and his two policemen followed, with Frank, Joe, and Jerry impatiently bringing up the rear.

The narrow passage twisted and turned. Only one kind of sound could be heardâthe heavy breathing of the pursuers. Suddenly there came an earsplitting crack! A gunshot from up front!

âHalt!â Lieutenant Parkerâs voice rang out. âDo not return fire!â

The file of men flattened against the rocks. The boys craned to see what was happening.

In a chamber at the end of the passage, their hands tied, stood Chet and Biff! Behind them were Stark and Pops, a cloud of gun smoke above them.

Though the two men were using the captives as shields, and the situation was desperate, Frank, Joe, and Jerry were jubilant. They had found their missing chums!

The Coast Guardmen and the police were forced to stand by helplessly, not daring to endanger Chet and Biff. But Joe saw a chance to change the situation. At a signal, he motioned Frank and Jerry to back out of the passage quietly. The three dashed from the cave.

âStark and Pops got in there, somehow,â Joe said. âThey didnât come past us. There must be another entrance out here.â

Hastily, in the gathering twilight, the boys examined the irregular face of the bluff. Suddenly Frank pointed to a big dark crack in the rock. As they neared it, a manâs figure loomed in the opening.

Without hesitation the three boys hurled themselves on the man and bore him to the ground. He hit with a thud, the fight knocked out of him.

âItâs Nick Glaser,â Joe whispered as Jerry whipped off the manâs belt and bound his arms securely with it.

âOkay,â Jerry replied, âIâll watch him. Donât worry, he wonât get away.â

The Hardys slipped into the dark crack from which the man had emerged. Snapping out his flashlight, Frank groped forward as fast as he dared. Soon he could make out the yellow glare of the rescuersâ flashlights, and the backs of Pops and Fritz Stark, standing behind Biff and Chet!

âFor the last time, I tell you throw down your guns,â Stark ordered, âif you donât want these kids hurt!â

Without pausing, Frank and Joe charged forward. Together they let drive with two bruising tackles. The legs of the criminals buckled underneath them. The revolvers flew from their hands and the men landed, dazed, on the floor of the cave. The police and seamen were upon them in a second.

âFrank! Joe!â cried Chet, overjoyed. As soon as his hands were untied, the stout boy grabbed his pals and hugged them in his excitement.

âO-of! Hey, donât crush us!â Joe protested, laughing.

âWe thought youâd never find us in this place!â Biff put in, rubbing his chafed wrists.

âWe were plenty worried ourselves,â Frank admitted.

âThey took us to Shantytown first in Starkâs car.â Chet spilled out the story. âWere they mad when they found out we werenât you and Joe!â

âBut they were afraid to let us go,â Biff went on, âso they took away our costumes and brought us here in a small boat.â

âOn the way, they threw our masks overboard,â Chet said, âhoping youâd think we drowned.â

âWe found yours,â Frank told him. âBecause it was made of rubber,â Biff put in. âMine was only paper, so it was lost.â

âAnd the day we got here, Pops went for the postcards,â Chet continued. âFritz Stark dictated what we had to write.â

âWe told them you wouldnât be fooled,â Biff added, âbut Pops took the cards back to Northport and mailed âem, anyhow.â

âWe found out a lot,â Chet continued. âThis outfit is part of a national ring of bank robbers. Duke, Moran, and Glaser were sent first to âcaseâ the banks around here and decided on Bayport.â

âDo you know where the loot is?â Joe asked.

âRight here, Iâll bet!â Chet pointed at his feet. âI noticed loose earth the first day.â

Immediately Frank and Joe, aided by the two policemen, began to scoop away the earth with pocketknives and their bare hands. In a few minutes they had dragged out the canvas sacks filled with money!

âNow, one more thing,â Joe said. âLetâs search for the rest of the Yokohama radios.â

âTheyâre right over here,â Biff volunteered, and led the others to a shadowy corner of the cave where an opened crate stood. âChet and I have been tied up next to them all the time. Those crooks were sure mad at Suttonâsaid it was his fault they only dared sell three.â

âJerry has the last member of the gang outside, Chief Collig,â Frank concluded. âOnce you hand-cuff him, we can all go back home.â

Lieutenant Parker said he would take charge of the stolen boat and return the craft to its owner. A seaman was assigned to bring in the Napoli.

The evening shadows were lengthening as the rest of the party boarded the cutter. First of all, Frank told Jerry and Joe about Tony. They were relieved he had not been seriously injured. By the time the boat entered the wide mouth of the bay, the harbor lights were twinkling.

News of the capture had been radioed ahead, so the Morton and Hooper families were on the pier to embrace their sons. Fenton Hardy, too, came forward to congratulate Frank and Joe and their chums.

âA fine job,â he said. âAnd youâll be glad to hear,â he went on, âthat the bank robbery ring has been put out of business nationally as well as locally. The leaderâs arrest this afternoon at a secret hideout in California clinched matters.â

A cheer arose from the whole group. Nodding modestly, Mr. Hardy explained, âThe robbers we rounded up here talked, hoping for clemency, so that made the job simple.â

When Mr. Hardy finished speaking, Collig boomed out, âI congratulate you, boys. You solved three mysteries at once. And you even helped us round up two crooked dockmen.â

For a moment the Hardys were silent, wondering how soon another case might come their way. They were to find out in the near future while Hunting for Hidden Gold.

âThereâs one question Iâd like to have answered,â Joe said, coming back to the present. âWho were Stark and Moran waiting for on the pier the night Dad trailed them?â

âFor Pops,â Lieutenant Daley replied. âHe was supposed to meet them there in a small boat and help pull off another theftâthis time valuable radios from Germany.â

Pat Muster chortled. âBut the weather was uncertain and the big, bold bandit said he was afraid to make the trip!â

Frank spoke up. âOne last question. Why was Pops called Pops, anyhow?â

âBecause he drinks soda pop all the time,â replied Chet. âHis favorite is some stuff named Fizzle.â

âI wonder,â said Joe with a grin, âif heâll be served any Fizzle in jaillâ