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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

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BOOK: The Melted Coins
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Frank took Joe aside. “Any sign of the profs or our buddy Elmont?”
“They were questioned, but it seems they slept right through the whole thing,” Joe replied. “Then they came down in their robes and gave Mrs. Rideau a line of baloney. Took her upstairs to rest!”
“What do they look like?” Frank asked. “Have you ever seen them before?”
Joe shook his head. “No. They're handsome, thirtyish, smooth—too smooth!”
“Did Elmont come down, too?”
“No, luckily he didn't. I wasn't keen on seeing him at all!”
The boys went back to the basement and resumed their watch, but everything was quiet for the rest of the night.
The next morning they talked with the Rideaus before breakfast. “I asked our tenants upstairs to redouble their surveillance of the premises,” the doctor stated. “Especially since Tay and Boots are hospitalized.”
“Did they say they would?” Frank inquired.
“Oh, yes. They'll keep an eye on the place. I must say, I feel much better about it.”
Frank and Joe stepped outside. “What do you know about that!” Frank said. “It's like asking the fox to guard the chicken coop!”
“They're being set up for a robbery,” Joe remarked. “Wouldn't you think that he'd see it?”
The boys walked to the barn. There were blankets to be folded and cots put away. When Frank opened the door, he sucked in his breath.
“Good night, Joe! Look at this!”
A bale of hay had fallen from the loft and landed on Frank's cot. The legs were smashed and the fabric ripped.
“And to think you might have been sleeping there!” Joe exclaimed, shuddering.
“Our prowler last night didn't miss a trick,” Frank said, shaking his head gravely. “Joe, if thieves are going to strike at Dr. Rideau's treasure, it'll be soon. I feel it in my bones!”
The boys straightened out their blankets and went into the house for breakfast. They decided to withhold the story of the splintered cot, so as not to disturb the couple any further.
Frank, however, felt obliged to tell them about their suspicions. After the meal he pushed his chair back, looked at the Rideaus levelly, and said, “I don't want to upset you nice people, but I think you're going to have a robbery here—and soon!”
“Oh dear!” Mrs. Rideau said. “And we won't have our dogs for protection!”
“That's part of the plan,” Joe said. “Getting rid of Tay and Boots eliminates one big obstacle for the thieves.”
The woman heaved a sigh and went on, “But at least we have our professors. I don't think anybody would rob this house while they're about.”
“In this case, I don't think I'd trust anybody,” Frank said.
The doctor put down his coffee cup and smiled benignly. “My, but aren't you suspicious! The professors are educated men, and very trustworthy!”
Just then hastening footsteps were heard on the stairs. The front door opened and closed.
“There they go now,” the doctor remarked.
“I've never met them,” Frank said.
“Let me show you some snapshots,” Mrs. Rideau said eagerly. She went to the living room, opened the drawer of an end table, and returned with an envelope of photos.
“We had a picnic in the yard a couple of weeks ago,” she explained, handing the prints to Frank. “Aren't the professors handsome?”
“Yes, they are,” Frank said slowly. “And this is a good picture of you and the doctor, too.” As he looked over the photographs, he took a snapshot of the professors out of the pile and, unnoticed by the Rideaus, slipped it in his pocket. He would return it later. Then he handed back the rest of the pictures.
“Would you like another glass of milk?” Mrs. Rideau asked.
The boys said No, they had enjoyed a good breakfast. Everyone got up, and while the Rideaus busied themselves in the kitchen, the Hardys walked quietly up the stairs.
“Maybe we can investigate their apartment,” Joe whispered. “You think they're all out?”
Frank nodded. “It sounded like three people leaving. Let's risk it.”
Frank tried the door. It was locked. “We can't break in,” he said. “And if we picked the lock and were found out—”
“I know what you mean,” Joe interrupted. “It would infuriate the Rideaus. The profs have a real in with these people.”
The boys trotted down the stairs and sat in the living room, mulling over what to do next. Frank pulled out the snapshot and showed it to Joe.
“Why did you take it?” Joe asked.
“I want to send it to Sam Radley and see if he can give us a rundown on these people, provided, of course, that they have a record.”
“Smart thinking!”
The phone rang. Mrs. Rideau picked up the extension in the kitchen, then called out, “It's for the Hardys!”
Frank took the instrument. Chet's voice, agitated and abrupt, came over the wire. “I'm at Niagara Falls. In trouble. Keystone—”
With a click, the phone went dead.
CHAPTER XIII
A Startled Seneca
CHET Morton's abrupt message for help plunged the Hardys into a quandary.
“We're in a real bind,” Frank said. “Chet's in Niagara Falls, probably kidnapped, and the coin collection seems ripe for a heist.”
“What'll we do?” Joe asked.
“When you come right down to it, there's no choice. Chet's worth more than all the money stashed away downstairs.”
However, the young sleuths decided to appeal to the local police. Excusing themselves, they hastened to headquarters.
Frank was careful not to accuse anyone. If the professors were not guilty of any wrongdoing, the Hardys might be subject to slander proceedings. They had to couch their suspicions in the mildest of terms.
They approached the desk sergeant and requested to see the police chief.
“What is your business?” he asked them.
“We have some suspicions,” Frank said, “that we would like to report to the chief.”
“I can take the complaint.”
“It's not a complaint,” Joe said. “It's just—”
Having heard the conversation, the chief stepped out of his office. He was a short stout man with a thatch of cropped gray hair. “What can I do for you?” he asked. “My name's White.”
The Hardys introduced themselves and asked if they could speak with him privately.
The man ushered them into his office and motioned them to be seated. He settled back in his swivel chair, folded his hands over his midsection, and regarded Frank and Joe with a fixed expression.
“To put it bluntly,” Frank began, “we suspect that Dr. Rideau's coin vault may be robbed soon.”
“Really?” Chief White seemed unimpressed.
“I wonder if you could give him some protection, for a while, at least,” Frank went on.
“How come you're so concerned about this possible theft? If what you say is true, why hasn't Dr. Rideau asked us for protection?”
Frank told of their accidental meeting on the highway; how they had dropped in on the couple and learned about the prowlers; and how Tay and Boots had been knocked out by poison darts.
“We know all about that,” White said, putting his elbows on the desk. “Do you think we're asleep at the switch?”
Frank and Joe were quick to deny any such thought.
“Well, that's better. I don't like any young fellows accusing us of inaction.”
“Not at all, sir,” Frank said. “I'm sure you know about the situation. But there's one thing you don't know.” He proceeded to tell the story of the bale of hay which had smashed his cot in the barn.
The chief was thoughtful. “It could have been an accident,” he said slowly.
“The mask wasn't,” Joe put in, and told of Chet's experience.
“I agree it seems as if someone wants to get you out of the way,” Chief White said. “Unfortunately all we have are suspicions without a suspect. Tell you what. I'll have my men patrol the Rideau house more often, especially at night. I can't spare anyone to stand guard around the clock—”
Frank got up. “We realize that, Chief. But I think that will help. We'll have to leave for a few days on an emergency, and when we get back, we'll pitch in, too.”
“Okay. Let me know if something else develops.” The chief walked the boys to the door, and they said good-by.
On the way back they passed the post office. A public phone booth stood on the corner in front of the building. “I'm going to try to reach Radley,” Frank said and stepped inside.
Sam was at his hotel in Cleveland, and before Frank could tell his story, he asked, “Did Chet get there? He started yesterday. The car's all fixed. Looks like new.”
When Frank told him about Chet's call, Sam was shocked. “Niagara Falls?” he repeated. “How did he get up there?”
“Our guess is he's been kidnapped,” Frank replied. Then he told what had happened at Hawk Head.
Radley immediately questioned the authenticity of the professors.
“I'm putting the picture in the mail to you,” Frank said. “Could you check with the FBI?”
“Sure thing. By the way, your dad is in Florida.”
“No kidding. Some people have all the luck!”
“Don't envy him. This is no vacation. He's on the trail of that mail fraud gang. It ties in with the bunch of phonies here in Cleveland.”
“Dad thought it might,” said Frank.
“Listen, what are you going to do about Chet?” Sam asked.
“We're going to Niagara Falls as quickly as possible. The key word is Keystone.”
“Tough assignment.”
“Don't worry. We'll find him.”
After mailing the snapshot taken in the Rideaus' yard, Frank and Joe went back to the house, packed their bags, and told their hosts they had to leave. They urged the doctor and his wife to be very careful, especially without the dogs.
“The vet called and told me that Tay and Boots will be better in a few days,” Mrs. Rideau said with a smile.
“I'm glad to hear that,” Frank replied and the boys said good-by.
They hopped a bus to Yellow Springs, where they would have to transfer to Niagara Falls. The driver let them off in front of the Sunset Motel.
“Any messages for us?” Joe asked at the desk.
The manager smiled. “I guess you were expecting him.” He pointed to a shiny red car parked beside the driveway. The fellow in it was dozing behind the wheel.
“Did he say who he was and what he wanted?” Frank asked, surprised.
“No. But I've seen him around here. By the way, I didn't hear from that Morton fellow.”
Frank nodded and they left the office. Quickly they put their bags in their room, then approached the red car. The driver, a dark-haired young man in his twenties, looked like an Indian. His head lolled to one side on the palm of his hand, which rested against the car door.
Frank and Joe stared at him for a few seconds before Frank said, “Hi, there!”
The driver jumped awake, his elbow banging against the horn, which emitted a two-tone blast. Frank and Joe jumped in reaction, then started to laugh, as did the young man who stepped out.
He was wearing khaki trousers and a blue work shirt which stretched tight over his broad shoulders as he offered a handshake. “I'm Paul Jimerson,” he said, “and you must be the Hardy boys. My mother gave me a good description of you.”
“Rod's brother?” Joe asked.
“That's right.”
“We thought you were working in Buffalo,” Frank put in.
“I was, but our plant has been shut down for a week. So I came home.”
“For your mother's corn soup, I'll bet,” Joe quipped.
Paul Jimerson, unlike Lendo Wallace, was a very outgoing person and full of bouncy enthusiasm.
“Hey, what do you think of my new car?” he asked. “Isn't she a beauty?” Then he ran a hand through his hair and looked embarrassed. “I didn't mean to brag. But I just got it a few days ago. He added, ”My mother told me about you, and I wonder if there's anything I can do for you.”
“You bet,” Joe said. “We need a driver!”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Niagara Falls.”
The Indian shrugged and grinned. “I'm game for a little sightseeing.”
“It's not exactly sightseeing,” Frank said. “All we hope to see is our friend.” He felt that Paul could be trusted and related the story of Chet's SOS.
“And you expect to find him?” Paul asked. “Niagara Falls is not exactly a little town, you know.”
“We know. We've got to follow the Keystone clue,” Frank said.
“How about some lunch before we start out?” Joe suggested.
“Good idea.” Paul grinned. “I'm hungry.”
As they ate their sandwiches, Frank and Joe guardedly discussed the case of the missing Indian masks.
“I don't know too much about it,” Paul said, “but Rod is quite upset about the whole business. He's closer to our old Indian customs than I am.”
“Look, I have a suggestion,” said Joe. “Before we start out, let's talk with Lendo Wallace again. I'd like to ask him why he left that danger note. The answer may give us a clue to Chet's whereabouts.”
“Okay, let's go,” Paul said. “Your chauffeur is at your service!”
A few minutes later they turned into Wallace's driveway. Paul got out and knocked on the door.
BOOK: The Melted Coins
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