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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

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BOOK: The Melted Coins
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“Why not?” Frank asked.
Paul said that Lendo had always been an honest person. “When I was a boy, he was awful good to me,” he added, and told that many times Lendo had taken him for walks in the woods and had taught him how to throw the snow snake.
“You say you'd like to be a detective,” Frank said. “Will you help us to get to the bottom of this mask mystery?”
Paul was enthusiastic over the opportunity. “Let's get started right away,” he said.
First, however, Frank put in a call to Radley in Cleveland. He was out, but had given an alternate number where Frank reached him.
“We found Chet,” Frank reported. “Thanks for sending the back-up troops!”
Radley was relieved when he heard the story that Chet was safe. “I've received the photo,” he said when Frank had finished, “and routed it through the FBI. There's no report on it yet.”
“What about the Cadillac?” Frank inquired.
“That wasn't hard to trace. It's owned by John Snedecker.”
“No kidding!” Frank exclaimed. “So he's the rich uncle of Elmont Chidsee!”
They chatted a while longer, and Radley said that the Magnitude Merchandising Mart was under close investigation by Mr. Hardy.
“They know Dad's on the case,” Frank said. “Rod Jimerson got a bump on the head by being mistaken for him. By the way, how is Rod?”
“Working. No trouble here.”
“We're going to the Rideaus' place tomorrow and will stop by the reservation on the way.”
“Good luck!” Radley said and hung up.
Next morning Frank rode with Paul to keep him company, while Chet went with Joe in the convertible. Once out of the city traffic, the miles flew by and they soon found themselves nearing Yellow Springs.
Paul, who was in the lead, pulled over to the side of the road and Joe stopped behind him. “Let's drop in on my mother first,” Paul suggested.
“Great!” Chet remarked. “I hope she's got some corn soup on the back burner.”
The two cars turned into the lane in front of Mrs. Jimerson's home. Before they had a chance to reach the door, the woman approached them. The look of pleasure on her face soon gave way to agitation, however. “Did you come back on account of Lendo Wallace?” she asked.
“No. What happened?” Paul frowned.
“Come on in, and I'll tell you.”
In the living room she hugged her son and motioned the callers to sit down. She cast a sidewise glance at Chet and hastened into the kitchen. Shortly she returned with steaming bowls of corn soup.
As the boys ate, she related the story about Wallace. “He was robbed last night. But not only that, he was severely beaten!”
“Robbed?” asked Frank. “What was stolen?”
The woman ticked off the items on her fingers. “Lacrosse sticks, snow snakes, trinkets, and false faces.”
The Hardys were puzzled over the beating.
“Did Lendo come upon the thieves and catch them red-handed, ransacking his house?” Frank asked.
“I don't know,” Mrs. Jimerson stated. “The police are investigating.”
“It sounds like more than a plain burglary,” Paul said grimly. “I'd like to get my hands on his attacker!”
Angrily he rose from the table and put an arm about his mother's shoulders. “Ma, is Lendo home?”
“Yes. But the doctor says he's hurt pretty bad.”
“Come on, fellows. Let's go see him!” Paul decided.
Frank, Joe, and Chet finished their soup, thanked Mrs. Jimerson, and hastened out with Paul. They all climbed into his car and drove to Wallace's place.
Paul pushed open the screen door and they entered. The room, obviously a workshop, was in disarray. The door to the bedroom was ajar. Paul entered and beckoned the boys to follow. Lying on the bed with a wide bandage around his head was Lendo Wallace. One purpled eye was closed shut and his face showed other bruises.
The injured man looked feverishly at Paul, who pulled up a chair and sat close to the bedside. “Who did this to you, Lendo?” he asked.
“A hundred,” Wallace muttered.
“A hundred what?”
The man did not answer, and his friend repeated the question.
“Masks,” Lendo whispered finally.
“He's too sick to speak,” said Frank. “Maybe we can come back later.”
The four left and got into the car before anyone spoke. Then Frank said, “A hundred masks—what does that mean?”
“Don't know,” said Joe, “but we'd better find out.”
They returned to Mrs. Jimerson and picked up the convertible. This time Chet rode with Paul and the Hardys stayed together. On the way to Hawk Head, Joe flicked on the radio and picked up a local news broadcast. The announcer sounded excited.
“Dr. Rideau's coin vault was robbed last night of more than two hundred thousand dollars in valuable coins,” he said. “Local police have no clues to the thieves. They—”
Joe turned off the radio. “They did it!” he exclaimed hotly. “Pour it on, Frank!”
The car gathered speed in the race to Hawk Head.
CHAPTER XVII
A Telltale Cobweb
WHEN Frank reached the city limits of Hawk Head, he slowed down and motioned for Paul to come alongside. He told him of the radio report, then proceeded to the Rideau property.
A police car was at the curb in front of the house, and the chief and a lieutenant stood on the lawn discussing the case.
“Hi, Frank, Joe,” Chief White greeted them. “You fellows called the shot that time.”
The chief said he had several men inside dusting for fingerprints and making a search of every square inch of the Rideaus' home.
“What time did it happen?” Frank asked.
“Don't know. As you suggested, our patrol car passed the house every half hour during the night.”
“And saw nothing suspicious?” Joe asked.
“Not a thing. All was quiet, or so it seemed.”
“And the Rideaus,” Frank queried, “didn't hear any noises?”
“They were out of town, visiting friends,” the police officer replied.
“What?” Joe was incredulous. “They left their coins unguarded?”
“The tenants were home,” the chief replied. “Of course the dogs are still at the vet's.”
“Have you questioned the professors?” asked Paul.
“Certainly,” the chief replied. “We quizzed them first thing.” Paul was told that the two men had heard noises briefly. They had come down to check, but found nothing suspicious. “In fact,” Chief White said, “they suspect that the Indians did it.”
“Were they at home all night?” Frank asked.
“Correct. They never left the place.”
Frank noticed the clenched muscles in Paul's jaw. “What makes them think the Indians pulled the job?” he snapped.
The chief put a hand in his pocket and pulled out a small mask. He held it up for Paul to see. “One of the profs found this near the back door when we were making the search.”
“That doesn't prove a thing!” Paul protested bitterly.
Frank touched his arm. “Easy does it, Paul. We'll get to the bottom of this!”
Just then Mrs. Rideau, having heard the boys' voices, hastened from the house. She wrung her hands in agitation as she approached the Hardys. “We should have listened to you!” she kept repeating. “We should have hired a private policeman to stand guard at all times!”
“How's the doctor?” Joe asked.
Mrs. Rideau said he was under sedation, lying on the sofa in the living room. “Our entire fortune is gone. It's all gone!” she wailed.
“How did the thieves get into the vault?” Frank asked.
“It was pretty smooth,” White replied. “They used Dr. Rideau's air drill to cut the locks. That way they didn't have to carry any heavy equipment into the house.”
“What about fingerprints?” Chet asked.
“Negative. So far at least. Nobody's prints except Dr. Rideau's.”
Frank had to admit it was a clever scheme, but carrying off the heavy sacks of coins was another matter. “I have a hunch that the stuff is hidden right around here.”
“But we've searched everywhere,” Chief White said.
The Hardys, Chet, and Paul excused themselves and went into the house to see Dr. Rideau. He lay pale and still, shocked by the loss of his fortune built up during his long life.
Chet and Paul looked on sympathetically as Frank and Joe questioned Dr. Rideau. But he only repeated what he had already told the police. “The Indians must have done it,” he insisted. “They think I have Spoon Mouth!”
“Don't worry, Doctor, your coins will be found,” Frank assured him. “Just be patient. We're bound to come upon a clue somewhere!”
Paul grimly held his silence. He beckoned the boys outside and whispered, “That guy is crazy. The Indians wouldn't take his coins. And if they did, what could they do with them?”
“Once a rumor gets started,” Frank said, “it's hard to stop it. Somebody must have planted this one intentionally to build up a case against the Senecas.”
Frank walked up to Mrs. Rideau, who had just come outside. “By the way, was Elmont Chidsee in the house when it happened?”
“No. Only the professors,” she replied.
The Hardys exchanged glances. Was Elmont in on the whole thing or wasn't he?
The four boys put their heads together. “I have a feeling that the loot is hidden in the barn,” Joe said. “Remember all that funny business going on there? Maybe the thieves were trying to scare us away for good.”
Chet nodded. “Let's check it out.”
They walked quietly around the house, opened the barn door, and began to search. Not a shred of evidence was found.
Joe noticed a stubby broom and began to sweep away the straw near the place where Chet had slept. Maybe the stolen coins were underneath it.
“What are you doing?” the stout boy asked, walking over to him.
Crack! Crash!
Rotten floorboards gave away under their combined weight. The two landed hard on the earthen floor of an underground room!
Frank and Paul ran over and peered into the hole. “You went right through an old trap door!” Frank exclaimed. “I can see the outline now!”
“This might be the answer,” Joe said, “as to how the intruder got away after putting the mask on Chet.” He turned and called to Frank, “Pass me a flashlight, will you?”
Frank ran to the car and returned with a powerful light which he handed down to Joe. While the two boys above watched, Joe and Chet examined the pit carefully.
“Looks like an old root cellar to me,” Joe declared.
“Pretty spooky place,” Chet said. “I want to get out of here!”
“Oh, oh, Frank! Look at this!” Joe called out
“Did you find something?”
“Someone has been down here recently.” Joe's light shone on a cobweb deep in a corner of the cellar. The symmetry of the fine strands had been broken. Then, on hands and knees, he and Chet made out the faint outlines of footprints on the dank floor.
The rotten floorboards gave way
“Maybe there's an underground way out of this place!” Paul suggested.
Their sleuthing was suddenly interrupted by Chief White's excited call from outside. “Frank and Joe Hardy!”
Paul and Frank pulled the other two from the root cellar and they hastened out of the barn. The chief beckoned from the house, and the boys ran over to him.
“What's up?” Frank asked.
“We found the melted coins!”
“You mean Spoon Mouth?” Paul asked.
“That's right.”
“Where was it?”
“In the back of Mrs. Rideau's closet!”
CHAPTER XVIII
Smashed Evidence
EVERYONE was aghast over the discovery made by the Hawk Head police. Frank and Joe could not believe that the dentist had stolen the melted coins from the Senecas.
Paul Jimerson shook his head sadly. “There's no telling what a man will do to get something he really wants,” he said. “But I still feel sorry for the old man.”
They all entered the living room to witness a strange scene. The doctor sat on the sofa, his head in his hands. His wife was daubing her eyes with a handkerchief while the chief stood over her, holding the melted coins.
The two professors, meanwhile, had come downstairs. They were upbraiding the elderly couple. Mockton lectured them in his oily sonorous voice, and Glade, looking holier-than-thou, waggled his finger at Mrs. Rideau.
BOOK: The Melted Coins
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