The Flickering Torch Mystery Part 1

THE FLICKERING TORCH MYSTERY.

By FRANKLIN W. DIXON.

CHAPTER I.

The Scientist's Request.

When Frank Hardy answered the doorbell that morning, he had no idea that its shrill ringing was a summons to excitement, adventure and peril. The man who stood on the broad veranda of the Hardy home looked mild-mannered enough-a small, elderly person with a clipped white mustache and silver-rimmed spectacles.

'' Is this where Fenton Hardy lives 1'' 1''

"Yes," said Frank pleasantly. "My father is busy just now. Does he expect you ?''

"Well, no," admitted the caller. He added cautiously, "It's Fenton Hardy, the private detective, I want to see. This is his house?"

"This is the right place. Come in anyway, Mr.-----"

"Grable. My name is Asa Grable," said the man meekly as he stepped into the hall. "I know I haven't an appointment and I hesitate 2 to intrude-but perhaps your father can spare me a minute. It's very important.''

Frank showed the caller into the living room, excused himself, and went into the library.

There he found his father packing papers into a brief case. Fenton Hardy, tall and middle-aged but still youthful in appearance, glanced up in surprise when he heard the name of the man in the other room.

"Asa Grable, the scientist?"

"He didn't say. But he seems mighty eager to see you, Dad.''

Fenton Hardy looked at his watch.

"Your mother and I are leaving on a trip," he said. "I counted on getting away by ten o'clock. But I'll try to spare a few minutes. Show him in, Son."

Strange visitors at strange hours were no novelty in the Hardy household. Fenton Hardy, who had earned a brilliant reputation in his younger days as an outstanding detective on the New York police force, now was known the length and breadth of the country as one of the best private detectives in the United States. He was a busy man, for his services were in constant demand. He had established a practice of his own in the city of Bayport, on the coast, where he lived with his wife and his two sons, Frank and Joe.

As the caller went to the library, Frank returned to the kitchen, where he and Joe had been helping their Aunt Gertrude do some bakThe Scientist's Bequest 3 ing. Their only help consisted of sampling batches of cookies as they came from the oven.

"Not one more! Not one!" their relative was saying.

Aunt Gertrude was a maiden lady of uncertain years and unpredictable temper. She had an income and a disposition all her own, and she spent her life visiting relatives far and wide. Her present visit at her brother Fenton's home had just begun.

Aunt Gertrude never would have admitted it, but Frank and Joe were her favorite nephews; she secretly adored them and publicly scolded and corrected them on all possible occasions. As for the Hardy boys, they had long since learned that Aunt Gertrude's peppery manner concealed a great depth of affection.

"These cookies are delicious," delicious," said Frank. said Frank.

"Well, then, you may have one more," grumbled Aunt Gertrude, gratified. She nibbled at a cookie herself, as Frank and Joe reached for the pan. "I have have baked worse," she said. baked worse," she said.

"Impossible, Aunty," declared Frank.

"What's that?" She glared at the boy over her spectacles. "It's impossible to bake worse cookies?"

"Oh, no, Aunt Gertrude," gulped Frank, floundering. "I mean-I never tasted worse cookies-I mean you you couldn't bake worse ones------" couldn't bake worse ones------"

"What?"

"I mean they're the best I ever tasted."

4 Aunt Gertrude gave him a stern look, full of suspicion.

"Then why don't you say what you mean? Who was that at the door?"

Aunt Gertrude had a disconcerting way of always jumping from one train of thought to another.

"It was a Mr. Grable. Asa Grable. I think he's a scientist."

"Asa Grable, the bug man?"

"I don't know. Dad seemed to recognize his name.''

"It's the bug man, I'll be bound," declared Aunt Gertrude.

"You mean he catches bugs?" asked Joe. "What kind of bugs?"

"How should I know? All I know about Asa Grable is that he has something to do with bugs." Aunt Gertrude turned sharply on Frank. "He didn't bring any with him, did he?" she demanded.

"I didn't see any," laughed Frank.

Aunt Gertrude sighed with relief. "I hate the nasty things. Scientist or no scientist, I '11 chase him out of the house if he brings any of his bugs here.''

The boys heard their father calling them from the library. They found Asa Grable and Fenton Hardy engaged in an earnest discussion.

"-I know they're a little young, but I think you'll find they can handle it for you, Mr. Grable, ''

their father was saying. '' It won't be the 5 first time my sons have taken over one of my cases. And solved it, too!''

'' I was hoping you would be able to undertake the case yourself," said Grable in a disappointed voice. " It's very important to me.''

Fenton Hardy turned to his boys.

"I'd like you to meet Mr. Asa Grable, the well-known entomologist. He has come to me with a problem. As you know, I'm already working on a very important case, and I have to leave Bayport right away. I've told Mr. Grable about the success you two have had in solving mysteries, and I'm trying to persuade him to let you take over this one for me."

The caller blinked doubtfully. He could not be blamed for hesitating to entrust his problem to a couple of boys.

This att.i.tude was nothing new to Frank and Joe Hardy. Though they had inherited a good deal of their father's deductive ability and had solved many mysteries, it was difficult to convince strangers that these two lads, still of high school age, were thoroughly competent in detective work.

"I daresay the boys are very clever," said Asa Grable, "but this is important to me, and after all-----"

"They're not amateurs," intervened Fenton Hardy. "I give you my word that they've had more training and experience than I had at their age. If the case is still unsolved when I come back from my trip, I'll take over."

6 Frank spoke up. "Dad, you haven't forgotten that Joe and I have promised to work at the State Experimental Farm this month ? They 're short of help. Do you think we 'd have time to take Mr. Grable's case?"

The scientist looked interested. "The Experimental Farm? Why, that's very near my place. Where do you plan to stay?"

"We've arranged to board at a farmhouse belonging to a Mrs. Trumper," Frank told him.

"Right next door to me!" exclaimed Grable. '' You '11 be close at hand.'' He seemed more interested now. '' It might work out after all.''

"I could arrange with the Farm Superintendent to give my sons a little time off," Fenton Hardy said. "Why not tell them your problem anyhow, Mr. Grable? If you'll excuse me, I have to see Mrs. Hardy about our luggage."

He left the library. Asa Grable pursed hia lips, stroked his mustache, and stared at the two Hardy youths over the tops of his spectacles. Apparently his decision was favorable.

"Probably you boys have never heard of me before," he began, "but in the scientific world I'm fairly well known. I'm an entomologist. My life work has been the study of b.u.t.terflies and moths. A number of years ago, while traveling in the Orient, I became interested in silkworms, and I've specialized in experimental work with them ever since."

"You brought some to this country?" asked Joe.

The Scientist's Request 7 Asa Grable nodded. "I brought back grubs, small mulberry trees-everything I needed for my work. I may say the experiments have been very successful." He coughed modestly. "In fact," said Mr. Grable, "I've been able to develop a species of super silkworm. From its coc.o.o.n I can produce a silk thread stronger than any yet known."

Frank whistled softly. ** Sounds pretty good. Especially in these times, Mr. Grable."

"In view of the shortage of good silk," agreed the scientist, "the discovery has very large possibilities. Parachutes, balloons-" He took off his spectacles and rubbed them carefully with his handkerchief. ""I have been working on something else, also. I'm afraid I can't tell you about that. So far I have kept it secret. However-" He looked up briskly and smiled. "I haven't come here looking for help in solving that that problem. What bothers me is that some of problem. What bothers me is that some of my silkworms, moths and coc.o.o.ns have vanished."

"Stolen?" asked Frank.

Asa Grable frowned. '' I don't know. That's the trouble. I can't be certain they were stolen.

I have been very careful. My experiments are important to the nation-in fact, they will be important to the entire world when they are completed-so I've taken a great many precautions. My greenhouses are always locked."

"Locks can be picked," observed Joe.

4' Certainly. For that reason I even installed 8 a burglar alarm system. So far the alarm has never sounded."

"But your silkworms disappear!" asked Frank, puzzled.

"Perhaps they died," Joe suggested.

Asa Grable shook his head. "I understand them so well and I know my greenhouses so thoroughly I think I could put my finger on every worm, moth and coc.o.o.n at any time. But they disappear. And I can't understand it."

"We'd like to help you, Mr. Grable," said Frank. ""We could at least keep a watch on your place, and maybe we could pick up a few clues for Dad to follow, when he comes back."

This was tactful. The scientist was made to feel that they merely would hold the fort until Fenton Hardy could devote his whole attention to the affair. Secretly they hoped to solve the mystery themselves!

"Very well," said Asa Grable, after thinking it over. "I doubt very much that you'll discover anything, but-well, until your father comes back, I'll let you take the case."

Fenton Hardy hurried into the room, carrying his hat. A light overcoat hung over his arm.

"Well," he said, "has anything been decided?"

"I'm going to let your boys take the case," replied Asa Grable. He shook his head. "But I'm afraid they won't solve it."

"They may surprise you," smiled the detective proudly. "I'm sorry I have to leave you, The Scientist's Eequest 9 but it's almost traintime." He turned to his sons. '' Go and say good-by to your mother, and then come back and talk to Mr. Grable again."

The boys went into the hall, where they found their mother ready for the journey. Aunt Gertrude was busy giving Mrs. Hardy large quant.i.ties of advice from the depths of her traveling experience.

"-and don't worry about Frank and Joe," the good lady was saying. "I'll see that they get plenty to eat, and that they're in bed every night by nine o'clock."

Frank grinned.

"Sorry, Aunt Gertrude," be said. "You're going to keep house alone. Joe and I are going to work at the Experimental Farm."

" I know that," she snapped. '' But you '11 be home every night by seven o'clock or I'll know the reason why."

"We're going to live at a farmhouse out there. Mrs. Trumper's place. "We have a mystery to handle," Joe informed her proudly.

Aunt Gertrude bristled. "I shan't stay here alone. And you're not living at any farmhouse without me to look after you. If you're going to this Mrs. Trumpet's place------"

"Trumper," said Frank.

"Well-Trumper, b.u.mper, Bugle or whatever her name is, I'm going, too."

The Hardy boys groaned inwardly. Mrs. Hardy smiled and kissed them good-by.

"I think that will be the best arrangement all 10 around," she said. "Aunt Gertrude would be lonesome here by herself."

Fenton Hardy picked up a suitcase. The boys seized the other bags, and carried them outside. A taxi was waiting at the curb. Fenton Hardy used the trains for his longer trips nowadays instead of his car. On the sidewalk he beckoned Frank and Joe aside.

"I haven't told you anything about this job I'm working on," he said quietly, "because until today I didn't know much myself. But there's no harm in letting you in on a little. I 'm trying to round up a gang that has been stealing supplies from State and Federal jobs-road construction, new buildings, and so forth. So you see now, I really had to turn down Asa Grable."

"Big stuff," said Frank. "Have you some good leads?"

Fenton Hardy did not look optimistic. "So far,'' he admitted," I 've been up against a brick wall. There is only one clue-a flickering torch."

"A flickering torch!"

"I think it's a signal to warn various members of the gang when they think they're in danger. If you should see a flickering torch, be on the lookout for trouble."

"We'll remember it," Joe a.s.sured him.

Fenton Hardy had time for no more. The taxi driver said they would miss their train if they didn 't hurry. A few moments later the car The Scientist's Request 11 sped down the street, Mrs. Hardy waving good-by to her sons.

"Well," said Aunt Gertrude grimly, "I'd better get busy and do some packing. And some more baking. Mrs. Trumpet probably won't have a thing that's fit to eat."

"Mrs. Trumper," corrected Frank.

They went into the house. The boys returned to Asa Grable in the library. As they entered the room the telephone rang, and the older boy answered it.