Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
The Secret Panel (9 page)
Joe leaped to his brother's side and felt for his pulse. The beat was weak but steady.
“Thank goodness he's alive!” he murmured, and quickly administered first aid. In a few moments Frank opened his eyes, wondering what had happened.
Joe told him and suggested they go upstairs where Frank could lie down on a sofa.
When they reached the kitchen, Frank was so weak he sat down in a chair. He told Joe to look around the house alone while he rested. The younger boy nodded and started off.
Going from room to room, he tried the lights. In some places they flashed on, in others they did not.
Joe was just about to step into the library, which was dark, when he heard a loud groan.
“Frank!” he thought, conscience-stricken, and rushed back to the kitchen.
His brother still sat in the chair and was deadly white. He admitted feeling awful. Joe insisted they leave at once, and helped Frank to the car.
By the time they reached home Frank felt much better. “I'm made of pretty tough stuff,” he said with a faint grin.
“You were lucky!” Joe agreed. “If the current had been more powerful youâ” He broke off. “Hold it,” he warned as he pulled open the kitchen screen door. “Something's the matter here!”
“What do you mean?” Frank asked.
The words were hardly out of his mouth when he, too, became aware of women's loud voices in the front hall. Aunt Gertrude seemed to be consoling someone. A moment later the boys recognized the other speaker as Mrs. Stryker.
“My son's honest and I want him back!” she cried out. “Nobody seems to be doing anything for me!”
“You have no right to talk about my brother and my nephews that way!” Miss Hardy replied with spirit. “They're the best detectives in this state; in fact, the best in the whole United States!”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Frank and Joe looked at each other and grinned. This was high praise from their aunt. High praise which she would not have voiced had she known they were listening.
Winking at Frank, Joe turned around and slammed the kitchen door. Then, with a “Hello, anybody home?” he stalked into the front hall.
Frank followed. “Have you had any word from Lenny?” he asked Mrs. Stryker.
The woman shook her head, remarking that she had heard from no one. “Those racketeers have things fixed so he can't let me know where he is,” she said sadly. Then she added, “I thought you and your father were working on his case for me. But all I get are promises!”
“Try not to worry,” urged Frank. “I have a hunch Lenny will be coming home soon.”
“You have?” Mrs. Stryker asked eagerly. “Oh, you must know something you're not telling me!”
The Hardys had to admit that they really were no closer to the solution of the mystery, but they were hopeful that clues they had gathered would lead them to the gang.
“Clues, clues, you told me that before!” Mrs. Stryker said.
“We'll do everything we can,” Joe assured her.
After she had left, the boys held a conference. Aunt Gertrude insisted upon being present, and advised her nephews that the police should track down the criminals, not they.
“Lenny Stryker probably did some shooting himself,” she declared.
“We certainly won't let anybody who should be in jail go free,” Frank stated. “Butâ”
The telephone rang and the boys hurried into the hall. Joe answered it. It was his father. He listened intently as Joe related the day's happenings, ending with Frank's electrical shock. Mr. Hardy warned Joe to be very careful, saying they most likely were on the trail of some illegal operation.
“Pass that along to Frank,” he ordered. “Now I'll tell you my plans.”
He explained that there were only two major appliance warehouses in the close vicinity which had not been burglarized.
“They were both on the list you saw at Bilks' garage. We have a hunch they will be robbed, even though the thieves must know they will be extra well guarded. I can't give you the details over the phone,” he went on, “but I won't be home tonight. Tell Mother not to worry. See you all in the morning.”
Joe repeated the conversation to his brother. They felt certain that their father was going to lie in wait inside one of the warehouses.
The boys were still discussing their father's telephone call when Mrs. Hardy came home, and they gave her his message. Aunt Gertrude had dinner ready, and as usual she insisted they all sit down at once to eat.
“One of your old school friends is coming over this evening, Laura,” she announced presently.
“Who's that?” asked Mrs. Hardy.
“Frank, eat more slowly,” Aunt Gertrude ordered. “Laura, these boys certainly are going to ruin their digestion if they stuff themselves like this.”
“But, Aunty, we've just started,” Frank pointed out.
“That makes no difference. I know by the way you two are setting out you plan to eat enough for four people. Oh, yes,” she added, “Martha Johnson is coming to call.”
“I'm so glad,” said Mrs. Hardy. Then, turning to her sons, she explained that Miss Johnson was a high school friend. “She became a nurse and moved to the West Coast. She comes back every so often, but I haven't seen her for several years.”
Aunt Gertrude said Miss Johnson was on a short visit in Bayport, and had telephoned to see if the Hardys were at home. The boys' mother was eagerly looking forward to seeing her friend. Shortly after dinner the woman arrived.
Frank and Joe talked with Miss Johnson for a while, then excused themselves to keep their movie date with Chet and the girls.
After they had left, the three women settled themselves in the living room for a long talk. Presently the conversation became so animated and full of laughter that they failed to hear the back door open softly and a stealthy figure tiptoe in. The man who entered listened to them for several moments. Then a cunning gleam came into his eyes.
CHAPTER XI
Kidnapped
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“PERFECT,” the intruder said to himself. “The dame in there is a nurse, eh? That solves our problem just fine.”
He moved on upstairs to Mr. Hardy's study. Reaching it, he went directly to the detective's filing cabinet. He took out a small tool and began skillfully to work on the lock. Soon it opened. One by one, he noiselessly pulled out the drawers.
Suddenly his eyes lighted up as he came upon a marked folder. Quickly he removed the papers from it and put them into his pocket.
At the same moment he heard Aunt Gertrude say, “Well, how about some coffee, Martha? I'll go fix it.”
The intruder froze on the spot. He waited until Miss Hardy had finished the coffee and taken it into the living room, then silently tiptoed downstairs again.
While the women were chatting gaily, he streaked through the kitchen and a second later had left the house.
Meanwhile, after a pleasant time at the local theater, Frank and Joe dropped off Chet and the girls and started for home. As they neared the house, Frank heaved a sigh.
“I'm so full of ice cream I could burst.”
Joe thumped his stomach. “I feel like Chet looks. IfâOh!”
A woman's frantic scream pierced the air. The boys drove toward the spot, but found nobody. A moment later they heard a car roar off a short distance away.
“What do you make of that?” Frank asked.
Joe shook his head. “Sounded like someone was in plenty of trouble. Let's report it to the police.”
They pulled into their driveway, parked the convertible in the garage, and entered the house. They had just reached the hall when a shriek came from their father's study.
“Aunt Gertrude!” shouted Frank and dashed upstairs. Joe followed.
They expected to see their relative prostrate, the victim of some kind of attack. To their relief, they found her standing in the center of the room, unharmed.
“What's the matter?” Frank asked.
His aunt was speechless. Finally she was able to stammer, “The filing cabinet!”
The boys gasped as they noticed a slightly opened drawer, and jumped to the same conclusion.
A
burglar!
A
burglar!
They checked drawer after drawer. Although not familiar with everything in the cabinet, they soon found the empty folder that had contained the fingerprint records of the television thieves.
“We've been robbed!” exclaimed Frank.
“Mike Batton!” Joe cried out.
Aunt Gertrude demanded an explanation. Joe told her how Ben Whittaker's assistant had been tampering with their back-door lock two days before.
“Batton claimed he was supposed to change it, but we sent him away,” Frank said. “Now I believe he must have taken a wax impression, made a key, and came back tonight.”
“That means he's tied in with the television thieves!” Joe reasoned.
Suddenly Frank had an idea. “I wonder if the woman's scream had anything to do with the intruder.”
“You mean when he left the house he might have frightened her?” Joe asked.
Frank nodded. “The burglar went out the back way. Running from the house like that, he might easily have scared some passer-by.”
Frank turned to his aunt. “When did Miss Johnson leave here?”
“A few minutes ago. Why? And what's that about a scream?”
“Didn't you hear it?”
“No!”
Frank reported the frantic cry they had heard. Aunt Gertrude had not noticed it, because a moment after the nurse had left she had turned on the television for the late news.
Now Mrs. Hardy appeared in the doorway. She had not heard anything, not even Aunt Gertrude's shriek in the study. When she was told what had happened, she became quite concerned.
“It frightens me to think of a burglar being in the house,” she said with a shiver.
“It's positively wicked!” Aunt Gertrude agreed. “If I had seen that fellow I would haveâ”
Frank interrupted her. “Where is Miss Johnson staying, Mom?”
“At Mrs. Brown's Guest House.”
“Did she take a taxi there?”
“No. It's not far and she was going to walk.”
Frank went to the telephone and called at once to see if the nurse had returned. Mrs. Brown told him her guest had not come back.
“When she does, will you please have her telephone Mrs. Hardy,” the boy requested. “It's important.”
Next, the boys notified Chief Collig. They reached him at home, and he promised to start a search at once.
But in spite of the police alert, there was no news of Miss Johnson when the Hardys finally went to bed long after midnight.
In the morning they called Mrs. Brown's Guest House again. The nurse had not returned.
“Oh dear! This is dreadful!” Mrs. Hardy exclaimed. “No telling what has happened to Martha. What can we do?”
Her sons could think of nothing at the moment, but by the time breakfast was over they had arrived at a theory.
“We've assumed Batton was our thief last night and that he's tied in with the TV burglars,” Frank began. “We also figure he kidnapped Miss Johnson.
“Now, since Lenny is presumably being held by the same gang,” he continued, “isn't it likely Martha Johnson was nabbed to be a nurse for him because of his leg wound?”
“Sure!” Joe agreed. “Batton must have been in the house long enough to overhear who she was, and grabbed her as she left.”
“So if we find the secret panel, we'll find both Lenny and Miss Johnson,” Frank concluded.
“But where will you begin your search?” Mrs. Hardy asked.
“First we'll go down and talk to Ben Whittaker again,” said Frank. “He may have heard from Mike Batton.”
“Or perhaps the police can tell us something by now,” Joe suggested.
Frank also thought they should go to the Mead estate and dive under the boathouse door to see if Chet's stolen dory had been taken there.
“It sounds like a full morning,” said Mrs. Hardy. “Please let Chet's mystery wait and try to find Martha.”
“We certainly will, Mother.”
Suddenly from the kitchen radio came a news broadcast to which Aunt Gertrude had just tuned.
“âA local item of great interest,” stated the announcer, “is about another baffling burglary.”
Frank, Joe, and their mother entered the kitchen to listen attentively as the newscaster went on:
“Thieves broke into the Carr Electronics Company last night. Televisions, tubes, and stereo equipment were stolen. The police are mystified. No one was seen entering the place, and Fenton Hardy, a detective on guard duty inside, was found injured. He has been taken to the hospital!”
CHAPTER XII
Fingerprints
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THE four beside the kitchen radio were shocked by the news that Mr. Hardy was lying in a hospital, the victim of some desperate criminal. The boys' mother tapped nervously on the table. For once Aunt Gertrude seemed tongue-tied. Joe was the first to find his voice.
“Let's call Chief Collig!” he cried, starting for the telephone.
“Wait a minute!” Frank caught his brother's arm. “I don't believe it is Dad!”
He explained that if Mr. Hardy really had been hurt, surely his family would have been notified by this time. Aunt Gertrude, now over her scare, declared, “Well, knowing my brother as I do, I'd say the whole thing is a hoax!”
“What do you mean?” Mrs. Hardy asked.
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