Read The Tower Treasure Online
Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
The Tower Treasure (5 page)
By nine o'clock his sons had mapped out the search in detail. The first recruit to arrive was Tony Prito, a lively boy with a good sense of humor. He was followed in a moment by Phil Cohen, a quiet, intelligent boy.
“Put us to work,” said Tony. “I brought one of my father's trucks that he isn't going to use today.” Tony's father was in the contracting business. “I can cover a lot of miles in it.”
Frank suggested that Tony and Phil work together. He showed them the map, with Bayport as the center of a great circle, cut into four equal sections.
“Suppose you take from nine o'clock to twelve on this dial we've marked. Mother has agreed to stay at home all day and act as clearing house for our reports. Call in every hour.”
“Will do,” Tony promised. “Come on, Phil. Let's get going!”
The two boys were just starting off when Biff and Jerry arrived at the Hardy home on motorcycles. Biff, blond and long-legged, had an ambling gait, with which he could cover a tremendous amount of territory in a short time. Jerry, an excellent fielder on Bayport High's baseball team, was of medium height, wiry, and strong.
Biff and Jerry were assigned to the section on the map designated six to nine o'clock. They were given further instructions on sleuthing, then started off on their quest.
“Where's Chet?” Mr. Hardy asked his sons. “Wasn't he going to help in the search?”
“He probably overslept. Chet's been known to do that,” Frank said with a grin.
“He also might have taken time for a double breakfast,” Joe suggested.
Mrs. Hardy, who had stepped to the front porch, called, “Here he comes now. Isn't that Mr. Morton's car?”
“Yes, it is,” Frank replied.
Chet's father let him off in front of the Hardy home and the stout boy hurried to the porch. “Good morning, Mrs. Hardy. Good morning, Mr. Hardy. Hi, chums!” he said cheerily. “Sorry to be late. My dad had a lot of phoning to do before he left. I was afraid if I'd tried to walk here, I wouldn't have arrived until tomorrow.”
At this point Mr. Hardy spoke up. “As I said before, I think you boys should work in twos. There are only three of you to take care of half the territory.” The detective suddenly grinned boyishly. “How about me teaming up with one of you?”
Frank and Joe looked at their dad in delight. “You mean it?” Frank cried out. “I'll choose you as my partner right now.”
“I have a further suggestion,” the detective said. “It's not going to take you fellows more than three hours to cover the area you've laid out. And there's an additional section I think you might look into.”
“What's that?” Joe inquired.
“Willow Grove. That's a park area, but there's also a lot of tangled woodland to one side of it. Good place to hide a stolen car.”
Mr. Hardy suggested that the boys meet for a picnic lunch at Willow Grove and later do some sleuthing in the vicinity. “That is, provided you haven't found Chet's jalopy by that time.”
Mrs. Hardy spoke up. “I'll fix a nice lunch for all of you,” she offered.
“That sure would be swell,” Chet said hastily. “You make grand picnic lunches, Mrs. Hardy.”
Frank and Joe liked the plan, and it was decided that the boys would have the picnic whether or not they had found the jalopy by one o'clock. Mrs. Hardy said she would relay the news to the other boys when they phoned in.
Chet and Joe set off on the Hardy boys' motorcycles, taking the twelve-to-three segment on the map. Then Mr. Hardy and Frank drove off for the three-to-six area.
Hour after hour went by, with the searchers constantly on the alert. Every garage, public and private, every little-used road, every patch of woods was thoroughly investigated. There was no sign of Chet's missing yellow jalopy. Finally at one o'clock Frank and his father returned to the Hardy home. A few moments later Joe and Chet returned and a huge picnic lunch was stowed aboard the two motorcycles.
When the three boys reached the picnic area they were required to park their motorcycles outside the fence. They unstrapped the lunch baskets and carried them down to the lake front. The other boys were already there.
“Too bad we can't go swimming,” Tony remarked, “but this water's pretty cold.”
Quickly they unpacked the food and assembled around one of the park picnic tables.
“Um! Yum! Chicken sandwiches!” Chet cried gleefully.
During the meal the boys exchanged reports on their morning's sleuthing. All had tried hard but failed to find any trace of the missing car.
“Our work hasn't ended,” Frank reminded the others. “But I'm so stuffed I'm going to rest a while before I start out again.”
All the other boys but Joe Hardy felt the same way and lay down on the grass for a nap. Joe, eager to find out whether or not the woods to their right held the secret of the missing car, plunged off alone through the underbrush.
He searched for twenty minutes without finding a clue to any automobile. He was on the point of returning and waiting for the other boys when he saw a small clearing ahead of him. It appeared to be part of an abandoned roadway.
Excitedly Joe pushed on through the dense undergrowth. It was in a low-lying part of the grove and the ground was wet. At one point it was quite muddy, and it was here that Joe saw something that aroused his curiosity.
“A tire! Then maybe an automobile has been in here,” he muttered to himself, although there were no tire marks in the immediate vicinity. “No footprints, either. I guess someone tossed this tire here.”
Remembering his father's admonitions on the value of developing one's powers of observation, Joe went closer and examined the tire.
“That tread,” he thought excitedly, “looks familiar.”
He gazed at it until he was sure, then dashed back to the other boys.
“I've found a clue!” he cried out. “Come on, everybody!”
CHAPTER VI
The Robbery
JOE HARDY quickly led the way into the swampy area as the other boys trooped along, everyone talking at once. When they reached the spot, Chet examined the tire and exclaimed:
“There's no mistake about it! This is one of the tires! When the thief put on the new one, he threw this away.”
“Perhaps the Queen is still around,” suggested Frank quickly. “The thief may have picked this road as a good place to hide your jalopy until he could make a getaway.”
“It would be an ideal place,” Chet agreed. “People coming to Willow Grove have to park at the gate, so nobody would come in here. But this old road comes in from the main highway. Let's take a look, fellows.”
A scrutinizing search was begun along the abandoned road in the direction of the highway. A moment later Frank and Chet, in the lead, cried out simultaneously.
“Here's a bypath! And here are tire marks!” Frank exclaimed. To one side was a narrow roadway, almost overgrown with weeds and low bushes. It led from the abandoned road into the depths of the woods.
Without hesitation Frank and Chet plunged into it. Presently the roadway widened out, then wound about a heavy clump of trees. It came to an end in a wide clearing.
In the clearing stood Chet Morton's lost jalopy!
“My Queen!” he yelled in delight. “Her own license plates!”
His shout was heard by the rest of the boys, who came on a run. Chet's joy was boundless. He examined the car with minute care, while his chums crowded around. At last he straightened up with a smile of satisfaction.
“She hasn't been damaged a bit. All ready to run. The thief just hid the old bus in here and made a getaway. Come on, fellows, climb aboard. Free ride to the highway!”
Before leaving, the Hardys examined footprints left by the thief. “He wore sneakers,” Frank observed.
Suddenly Chet swung open the door and looked on the floor. “You mean he wore
my
sneakers. They're gone.”
my
sneakers. They're gone.”
“And carried his own shoes,” Joe observed. “Very clever. Well, that washes out one clue. Can't trace the man by his shoe prints.”
“Let's go!” Chet urged.
He jumped into the car and in a few seconds the engine roared. There was barely sufficient room in the clearing to permit him to turn the jalopy about. When he swung around and headed up the bypath, the boys gave a cheer and hastened to clamber aboard.
Lurching and swaying, the car reached the abandoned road and from there made the run to the main highway. The boys transferred to Tony's truck and the motorcycles, and formed a parade into Bayport, with Frank and Joe in the lead. It was their intention to ride up to police headquarters and announce their success to Chief Collig.
“And I hope Smuff will be around,” Chet gloated.
As the grinning riders came down Main Street, however, they noticed that no one paid any attention to them, and there seemed to be an unusual air of mystery in the town. People were standing in little groups, gesticulating and talking earnestly.
Presently the Hardys saw Oscar Smuff striding along with a portentous frown. Joe called out to him. “What's going on, detective? You notice we found Chet's car.”
“I've got something more important than stolen cars to worryâHey, what's that?” Detective Smuff stared blankly, as the full import of the discovery filtered his consciousness.
The boys waited for Smuff's praise, but he did not give it. Instead, he said, “I got a big mystery to solve. The Tower Mansion has been robbed!”
“Good night!” the Hardys chorused.
Tower Mansion was one of the show places of Bayport. Few people in the city had ever been permitted to enter the place and the admiration which the palatial building excited was solely by reason of its exterior appearance. But the first thing a newcomer to Bayport usually asked was, “Who owns that house with the towers over on the hill?”
It was an immense, rambling stone structure overlooking the bay, and could be seen for miles, silhouetted against the sky line like an ancient feudal castle. The resemblance to a castle was heightened by the fact that from each of the far ends of the mansion arose a high tower.
One of these had been built when the mansion was erected by Major Applegate, an eccentric, retired old Army man who had made a fortune by lucky real-estate deals. Years ago there had been many parties and dances in the mansion.
But the Applegate family had become scattered until at last there remained in the old home only Hurd Applegate and his sister Adelia. They lived in the vast, lonely mansion at the present time.
Hurd Applegate was a man about sixty, tall, and stooped. His life seemed to be devoted now to the collection of rare stamps. But a few years before he had built a new tower on the mansion, a duplicate of the original one.
His sister Adelia was a maiden lady of uncertain years. Well-dressed women in Bayport were amused by her clothes. She dressed in clashing colors and unbecoming styles. Hurd and Adelia Applegate were reputed to be enormously wealthy, although they lived simply, kept only a few servants, and never had visitors.
“Tell us about the theft,” Joe begged Smuff.
But the detective waved his hand airily. “You'll have to find out yourselves,” he retorted as he hurried off.
Frank and Joe called good-by to their friends and headed for home. As they arrived, the boys saw Hurd Applegate just leaving the house. The man tapped the steps with his cane as he came down them. When he heard the boys' motorcycles he gave them a piercing glance.
“Good day!” he growled in a grudging manner and went on his way.
“He must have been asking Dad to take the case,” Frank said to his brother, as they pulled into the garage.
The boys rushed into the house, eager to find out more about the robbery. In the front hallway they met their father.
“We heard the Tower Mansion has been robbed,” said Joe.
Mr. Hardy nodded. “Yes. Mr. Applegate was just here to tell me about it. He wants me to handle the case.”
“How much was taken?”
Mr. Hardy smiled. “Well, I don't suppose it will do any harm to tell you. The safe in the Applegate library was opened. The loss will be about forty thousand dollars, all in securities and jewels.”
“Whew!” exclaimed Frank. “What a haul! When did it happen?”
“Either last night or this morning. Mr. Applegate did not get up until after ten o'clock this morning and did not go into the library until nearly noon. It was then that he discovered the theft.”
“How was the safe opened?”
“By using the combination. It was opened either by someone who knew the set of numbers or else by a very clever thief who could detect the noise of the tumblers. I'm going up to the house in a few minutes. Mr. Applegate is to call for me.”
“I'd like to go along,” Joe said eagerly.
“So would I,” Frank declared.
Mr. Hardy looked at his sons and smiled. “Well, if you want to be detectives, I suppose it is about as good a chance as any to watch a crime investigation from the inside. If Mr. Applegate doesn't object, you may come with me.”
A few minutes later a foreign-make, chauffeur-driven car drew up before the Hardy home. Mr. Applegate was seated in the rear, his chin resting on his cane. The three Hardys went outside. When the detective mentioned the boys' request, the man merely grunted assent and moved over. Frank and Joe stepped in after their father. The car headed toward Tower Mansion.
“I don't really need a detective in this case!” Hurd Applegate snapped. “Don't need one at all. It's as clear as the nose on your face. I
know
who took the stuff. But I can't prove it.”
know
who took the stuff. But I can't prove it.”
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