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They did this, then returned to the house.
"Well," Joe said, trying to be cheerful, "the Dodds may still show up at the hearing tomorrow."
A light came into Frank's face. "Joe! We may have lost a clue, but I think we've gained something in its place."
"'What?"
"The fact that the glove was stolen from us proves it must be important-and probably to Slagel!"
The late news reports gave no word on the missing Dodds, but another car had been reported stolen and presumed to have been driven toward Bayport. When the announcer read its description, Joe jumped up.
"A tan Carlton! Frank, it's the car that almost ran us down at the bluff!"
"But the driver was heading north. Still-" Frank snapped his fingers. "I've got it! Tire marks prove the thieves always head south. But what's to stop them from turning around a minute later and heading north?"
"A simple U-turn!" Joe agreed.
The following morning, just before the scheduled hearing of the Dodd case, Frank called Chief Collig and learned that the Dodds had failed to appear. Nothing had been heard from Martin Dodd, either.
"Do you suppose he was kidnapped too?" Joe asked Frank.
His brother shrugged. "If so, it may involve the Pilgrim mystery. Let's go out to Cheston College and make some inquiries."
Before they left, a phone call came from their father. After briefing him on the latest developments, Joe asked, "Dad, how's your case coming?"
"I'm not at liberty to say much, but I wouldn't be surprised if I suddenly took up the study of gases as a hobby. I wish I were free, though, to give you boys a hand."
Late that morning Frank and Joe traveled by train to Greenville, then walked to the peaceful, shaded campus of Cheston College. At the office they learned that Martin Dodd, a bachelor, had left as expected the day before for Bayport. The boys obtained two photographs of the astronomy professor.
Both showed him to be tall and middle-aged, with a gray mustache and horn-rimmed gla.s.ses.
"He may be in Bayport right now," Frank remarked hopefully.
But when the Hardys called on Chief Collig later that afternoon they were told nothing had been heard of the mysteriously missing uncle. Without mentioning the Dodds' Pilgrim mystery, the Hardys provided the chief with one of the professor's photographs.
"We'll look for him," the officer promised.
Upon reaching home the brothers found that Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude were out. A few minutes later the boys received a visitor. Frank ushered the heavy-set, well-dressed man into the living room. He introduced himself as a Manhattan businessman.
"I must profoundly apologize for not giving my name to you boys," he said. "I have come on a matter of a highly confidential nature."
"My father can't help you now. He is away," Frank told him. "Perhaps when he returns-"
"Oh, but you misapprehend me," the stranger protested, removing his spectacles. He smiled ingratiatingly.
"It is the services of the distinguished sons of Fenton Hardy which I am interested in acquiring-for a private case in New York City."
The stilted language and pompous manner of the man impressed neither of the boys. Suspicious of his wish for anonymity, they informed him that they were engaged on other matters. His flattering persistence availed nothing.
"You refuse then? Most unfortunate, most unfortunate," the man whispered. He bowed curtly at the door and left.
"There's something fishy about him," Joe commented. "Too bad we couldn't get his name."
"I did notice some things," Frank said. "The cigarette he was smoking was a foreign make, and that gaudy tie clasp had the initials C. M. on it."
"Maybe he wants to get us out of Bayport!" Joe suggested.
Other thoughts crossed the boys' minds. Was the stranger connected in any way with the Sh.o.r.e Road thieves? Or did he know anything about the disappearance of the Dodds?
Early that evening Joe phoned Chet, and without disclosing details of the Pilgrim mystery, told him of the missing Martin Dodd. Chet agreed to come to a strategy meeting at the Hardy home the next day.
Joe had just hung up when he thought of something. "Frank! Jack's boat! We forgot all about it! Do you think the Dodds could have gone off in that?"
"Not unless their station wagon is parked down by the boathouse. But we might find some clues there to where they could be!"
Ten minutes later Frank and Joe reached an aluminum boathouse at the Bayport waterfront. They parked their motorcycles. Faintly pink clouds lingered in the sky below a rising half-moon. Over the distant hum of cicadas, the boys' footsteps drummed on the wooden boards of the dock.
Inside the dark, oblong structure six boats were moored. Eerie shadows seemed to ripple up the corrugated walls from the lapping water. At the end of the row, Frank saw a green-and-white boat bobbing gently.
"It's still here!" he said.
Joe, snapping a finger to his lips, grabbed his brother's arm. He had heard a sound outside, but now only the wash of water on the hulls came to their ears. The brothers worked their way along until they stood over Jack's boat. Holding the damp railings, the Hardys peered into its dark hold.
"Let's have a closer look," Frank said.
At that moment the sound of a board creaking came from inside the cabin of the boat.
"Joe! Somebody's in there!"
Before they could investigate, the boys felt strong arms around their necks. Wet cloths were slapped over their faces!
CHAPTER V.
Strategy FRANK awoke to see blurred reflections from the water on the dark boathouse ceiling. His clothes felt damp, and he was conscious of a heavy feeling in his head.
As Joe stirred alongside him, Frank scrambled to his feet, then helped his brother to get up.
"Jack's boat-it's gone!" Joe said groggily. "Did you get a look at the men who attacked us?"
"No, but whoever grabbed me and clamped that cloth over my face was strong. Wonder what knocked us out?"
"Some kind of liquid gas is my guess," Joe answered.
After informing Chief Collig of the attack upon them and the stolen Dodd boat, many unanswered questions filled the Hardys' thoughts as they drove home. Who were the men who had ga.s.sed them and taken the Dodd boat? Could they have been Sh.o.r.e Road thieves, who also had planted a stolen car at the Dodd farm? Did they know anything about the clue to the Pilgrim treasure? Above all, what had become of Jack and his father?
Frank looked worried. "We feel sure the Dodds aren't car thieves, and what happened tonight at the boathouse makes me think more than ever that they didn't run away."
"You mean they were not only kidnapped, but maybe harmed?"
"That's right," said Frank. "Tomorrow let's forget the car thieves and start a hunt for Slagel."
The next morning Frank and Joe worked on their battered short-wave radio, then cycled into town.
When they reached the Bayport business district, the boys paused for a moment at the corner of Main and Larch. Frank gave Joe one half of a penciled list of hotels and rooming houses and the copy of the Slagel photograph they had made.
"Righto," said Joe. "See you in an hour at this corner."
The boys separated, Joe taking the north end of Bayport and Frank the south. An hour later neither Hardy had yet come across a Slagel registered in any of the hotels. None of the desk clerks had recognized the photographs.
During the second hour, Joe had no success. Only five names were left on his list.
"You have any luck?" he asked Frank hopefully when they met to compare progress.
Frank wiped his brow. "Not a thing. I covered all the waterfront places and saw the registers myself.
How about you?"
"No."
Frank read down his list. "Well, this last run ought to do it. Fingers crossed!"
But the boys' final circuit turned up no leads. Disappointed, the brothers headed through the center of town for home.
"Slagel may still be in the area, but staying in another town," Frank remarked.
"At any rate," Joe declared, "I guess we'll have some more footwork cut out for us."
At the Dock Street traffic light Joe noticed a heavy-set, well-dressed man getting into a taxicab.
"Frank! That's our nameless visitor from New York!"
The brown-and-white cab pulled out and headed toward the western side of town. The boys decided to follow on their motorcycles.
Moments later, the taxi wound under an overpa.s.s and came to a stop at the Bayport railroad station.
Parking nearby, the Hardys followed as the man purchased a ticket in the waiting room, then boarded a waiting New York train.
Joe heaved a sigh. "Well, we can cancel one lead-at least for the time being. Maybe he was telling the truth about living in New York City."
Frank and Joe found Chet at their house. Presently the three boys went to the brothers' crime lab.
Chet proudly dropped a large cylinder of paper on the table. "I thought we could use this to find the car thieves."
"What is it?" Joe asked.
Chet rolled out a highly detailed map of Bayport and its environs. "It's on loan from my father's real-estate office."
The Hardys marveled at the map's detail, which included geographical features as well as houses and roads in the entire Sh.o.r.e Road area.
"This is a great help, Chet!" said Frank.
After switching on an overhead fluorescent light and locking the door and windows for security, he rejoined the boys over the map spread out on the table. The three pored over the paper for the next half hour. Except for the sounds of Chet chewing gum, the room was silent.
Two considerations were paramount: Where were the Dodds, and where were the stolen cars being taken?
At last Frank sat back. "I have a hunch that working on the thefts is the only way we'll ever find Jack and his father. With the Dodds missing, suspicion of future thefts would naturally fall on them."
"Do you think their lives are in danger?" Chet asked.
"I'm afraid so," Frank replied. "They may be prisoners within a few miles of where we are this minute.
The gang may be making a quick haul of flashy cars, and storing them at a hideout until they can be safely moved. But as long as the thefts continue, I think the Dodds will be kept prisoners."
Since Chet was to be a part of their sleuthing team, Frank and Joe now told him about the Pilgrim mystery.
Joe paused at the window. "I feel that the treasure also would fit right into the disappearance of Jack and his father and even the uncle," he commented. "If only we had a copy of Elias Dodd's last message! Do you think Slagel or the car thieves found out about the treasure and kidnapped Jack and his father to keep them from looking for it?"
"It's possible," Frank answered.
Moments later, Mrs. Hardy interrupted briefly to give the boys four letters which had come for them in a late delivery. As Frank and Joe read them, Chet noted their grim expressions.
"Who sent the letters?" he asked.
"They're complaints," Frank replied. "Some townspeople aren't happy about our backing the Dodds."
Joe slapped the letter he was reading. "This one is from a theft victim. He even says he'll hold us responsible if the Dodds aren't apprehended!"
"People are really getting up in arms about these thefts," Frank said. "We must work harder to track down the thieves."
First, the boys reviewed recent copies of the Bayport Times for theft evidence, which proved to be scanty. Then they studied minutely the mapped roads leading to and from Sh.o.r.e Road.
"There are a few things that seem certain," Frank concluded. "One, the thieves appear to be after late-model cars, and to steal most of them at night. Two, the gang can't be a small one-their success alone would suggest that. And three, the stolen cars are most likely driven north up Sh.o.r.e Road."
"If," Chet cut in, "your U-turn theory is right."
"Correct. The police have suspected a southerly direction so far, and therefore have been concentrating on watching Bayport. But as the papers indicate, patrols are now keeping an eye on other towns that lie off Sh.o.r.e Road to the north."
Chet shrugged. "Then what could we possibly learn that the police haven't?"
Frank drew the others' attention to the black line which represented Sh.o.r.e Road on the map.
"The thief heads north. He could go straight into Northport, but he'd take a chance staying on one road all that distance. This leaves the turnoffs which meet Sh.o.r.e Road from the west."