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  The House on the Cliff

  ( The Hardy Boys - 2 )

  Franklin W. Dixon

  The house on the cliff has been vacant and is supposed to be haunted. Then it is reported to be the abode of criminals. Mr. Hardy starts to investigate and disappears, so the boys set to work to see what they can do.

  _______________

  When Mr. Hardy disappears while investigating a mystery surrounding a vacant house rumored to be either haunted or an abode for criminals, the Hardy Boys search for the truth.

  ______________

  About the Author

  Franklin W. Dixon was the pseudonym devised by Edward Stratemeyer for the author of a series of mystery books he was developing which became the Hardy Boys series. The first book, The Tower Treasure, originally published in 1927, was ghostwritten by Leslie MacFarlane who went on to write 19 more, including #2 through #16. In all, there are 58 titles in the original Hardy Boys Mysteries series published between 1927 and 1979 written by 17 different men and women. Many of the books were later revised, adding another four Hardy Boys Mystery Stories to the total.

  HARDY BOYS #002 - THE HOUSE ON THE CLIFF

  FRANKLIN W DIXON

  CHAPTER I

  Spying by Telescope

  "So YOU boys want to help me on another case?" Fenton Hardy, internationally known detective, smiled

  at his teen-age sons.

  "Dad, you said you're working on a very mysterious case right now," Frank spoke up. "Isn't there some

  angle of it that Joe and I could tackle?"

  Mr. Hardy looked out the window of his second-floor study as if searching for the answer somewhere in

  the town of Bayport, where the Hardys lived. Finally he turned back and gazed steadfastly at his sons.

  "All right. How would you like to look for some smugglers?"

  Joe Hardy's eyes opened wide. "You mean it, Dad?"

  "Now just a minute." The detective held up his hand. "I didn't say capture them; I just said look for

  them."

  "Even that's a big assignment. Thanks for giving it to us!" Frank replied.

  The lean, athletic detective walked to a corner of the study where a long, narrow carrying case stood.

  Tapping it, he said:

  "You boys have learned how to manipulate this telescope pretty well. How would you like to take it out

  onto that high promontory above the ocean and train it seaward? The place I mean is two miles north of

  the end of the bay and eight miles from here."

  "That would be great!" said seventeen-year-old, blond-haired Joe, his blue eyes flashing in anticipation.

  Frank, who was a year older than his brother and less impetuous, asked in a serious tone of voice, "Dad,

  have you any ideas about the identity of any of the smugglers?"

  "Yes, I do," Mr. Hardy answered his tall, dark-haired son. "I strongly suspect that a man named Felix

  Snattman is operating in this territory. I'll give you the whole story."

  The detective went on to say that he had been engaged by an international pharmaceutical company to

  trace stolen shipments of valuable drugs. Reports of thefts had come from various parts of the United

  States. Local police had worked on the case, but so far had failed to apprehend any suspects.

  "Headquarters of the firm is in India," the detective told the boys. "It was through them that I was finally

  called in. I'm sure that the thefts are the result of smuggling, very cleverly done. That's the reason I

  suspect Snattman. He's a noted criminal and has been mixed up in smuggling rackets before. He served a

  long term in prison, and after being released, dropped out of sight."

  "And you think he's working around Bayport?" Joe asked. He whistled. "That doesn't make this town a

  very healthy place to live in!"

  "But we're going to make it so!" Mr. Hardy declared, a ring of severity in his voice.

  "Just where is this spot we're to use the telescope?" Frank asked eagerly.

  "It's on the Pollitt place. You'll see the name at the entrance. An old man named Felix Pollitt lived there

  alone for many years. He was found dead in the house about a month ago, and the place has been vacant

  ever since."

  "It sounds as if we could get a terrific range up and down the shore from there and many miles across the

  water," Frank remarked.

  Mr. Hardy glanced at his wrist watch. "It's one-thirty now. You ought to be able to go out there, stay a

  fair amount of time, and still get home to supper."

  "Oh, easily," Joe answered. "Our motorcycles can really burn up the road!"

  His father smiled, but cautioned, "This telescope happens to be very valuable. The less jouncing it

  receives the better."

  "I get the point," Joe conceded, then asked, "Dad, do you want us to keep the information about the

  smugglers to ourselves, or would it be all right to take a couple of the fellows along?"

  "Of course I don't want the news broadcast," Mr. Hardy said, "but I know I can trust your special

  friends. Call them up."

  "How about Chet and Biff?" Joe consulted Frank. As his brother nodded, he said, "You pack the

  telescope on your motorcycle. I'll phone."

  Chet Morton was a stout, good-natured boy who loved to eat. Next to that, he enjoyed being with the

  Hardys and sharing their exciting adventures, although at times, when situations became dangerous, he

  wished he were somewhere else. Chet also loved to tinker with machinery and spent long hours on his

  jalopy which he called Queen. He was trying to "soup up" the motor, so that he could have a real "hot

  rod."

  In contrast to Chet, Biff Hooper was tall and lanky. To the amusement-and wonder-of the other boys, he

  used his legs almost as a spider does, covering tremendous distances on level ground or vaulting fences.

  A few minutes later Joe joined his brother in the garage and told him that both Chet and Biff would go

  along. Chet, he said, had apologized for not being able to offer the Queen for the trip but her engine was

  "all over the garage." "As usual," Frank said with a grin as the two boys climbed on their motorcycles and

  set out.

  Presently the Hardys stopped at Biff Hooper's home. He ran out the door to meet them and climbed

  aboard behind Joe. Chet lived on a farm at the outskirts of Bayport, about a fifteen-minute run from the

  Hooper home. The stout boy had strolled down the lane to the road and was waiting for his friends. He

  hoisted himself onto Frank's motorcycle.

  "I've never seen a powerful telescope in operation," he remarked. "How far away can you see with this

  thing?"

  "It all depends on weather conditions," Frank replied. "On a clear day you can make out human figures at

  distances of twenty-four miles."

  "Wow!" Chet exclaimed. "We ought to be able to find those smugglers easily."

  "I wouldn't say so," Biff spoke up. "Smugglers have the same kind of boats as everybody else. How dose

  do you have to be to identify a person?"

  "Oh, about two and a half miles," Joe answered.

  The motorcycles chugged along the shore road, with Frank watching his speedometer carefully. "We

  ought to be coming to the Pollitt place soon," he said finally. "Keep your eyes open, fellows."

  The boys rode on in silence, but suddenly they all exclaimed together, "There it is!"

  At the entrance to a driveway thickly
lined with trees and bushes was a stone pillar, into which the name

  "Pollitt" had been chiseled. Frank and Joe turned into the driveway. The only part of the house they could

  see was the top of the roof. Finally, beyond a lawn overgrown with weeds, they came upon the tall,

  rambling building. It stood like a beacon high above the water. Pounding surf could be heard far below.

  "This place sure looks neglected," Biff remarked.

  Dank, tall grass grew beneath the towering trees. Weeds and bushes threatened to engulf the whole

  building.

  "Creepy, if you ask me," Chet spoke up. "I don't know why anybody would want to live here."

  The house itself was in need of repair. Built of wood, it had several sagging shutters and the paint was

  flaking badly.

  "Poor old Mr. Pollitt was probably too sick to take care of things," Frank commented, as he looked at

  several weed-choked flower beds. To the Hardys' disappointment, the sky had become overcast and

  they realized that visibility had been cut down considerably. Nevertheless, Frank unstrapped the carrying

  case and lugged it around to the front of the house.

  He unfastened the locks and Joe helped his brother lift out the telescope and attached tripod, pulling up

  the eye-end section first.

  Biff and Chet exclaimed in admiration.

  "Boy, that's really neat!" Chet remarked.

  He and Biff watched in fascination as Frank and Joe began to set up the telescope. First they unfastened

  the tape with which the tube and tripod legs were tied together. Joe turned the three legs down and

  pulled out the extensions to the desired height. Then Frank secured the tripod legs with a chain to keep

  them from spreading.

  "What's next?" Biff asked.

  "To get proper balance for the main telescope tube we slide it through this trunnion sleeve toward the eye

  end, like this." After doing so, Frank tightened the wing nuts on the tripod lightly.

  Joe picked up the balance weight from the carrying case and screwed it into the right side of the

  telescope tube about one third the distance from the eyepiece.

  "This'll keep the whole thing from being top heavy," he pointed out.

  "And what's this little telescope alongside the big one for?" Chet queried.

  "A finder," Frank explained. "Actually, it's a small guide telescope and helps the observer sight his big

  telescope on the object more easily."

  "It's as clear as mud," Chet remarked with a grin. He squinted through the ends of both the large and the

  small telescopes. "I can't see a thing," he complained. Joe laughed. "And you won't until I insert one of

  the eyepieces into the adapter of the big telescope and put another eyepiece into the finder."

  In a few minutes the Hardys had the fascinating device working. By turning a small knob, Frank slowly

  swung the telescope from left to right, and each boy took a turn looking out across the water.

  "Not a boat in sight!" said Chet, disappointed.

  Frank had just taken his second turn squinting through the eyepiece when he called out excitedly, "I see

  something!"

  He now began a running account of the scene he had just picked up. "It's not very clear . . . but I see a

  boat . . . must be at least six miles out."

  "What kind of boat?" Joe put in.

  "Looks like a cruiser ... or a cutter. . . . It's not moving. . . . Want to take a look, Joe?"

  Frank's brother changed places with him. "Say, fellows, a man's going over the side on a ladder . . . and,

  hey! there's a smaller boat down below. . . . He's climbing into it."

  "Can you see a name or numbers on the big boat?" Frank asked excitedly.

  "No. The boat's turned at a funny angle, so you can't see the lettering. You couldn't even if the weather

  was clearer."

  "Which way is the man in the small boat heading?" Biff asked.

  "He seems to be going toward Barmet Bay."

  Joe gave up his position to Biff. "Suppose you keep your eye on him for a while, and also the big boat.

  Maybe it'll turn so you can catch the name or number on the box."

  Chet had been silent for several moments. Now he said, "Do you suppose they're the smugglers?"

  "Could be," Frank replied. "I think we'd better leave and report this to Dad from the first telephone we-"

  He was interrupted by the sudden, terrifying scream of a man!

  "Wh-where did that come from?" Chet asked with a frightened look.

  "Sounded as if it came from inside," Frank answered.

  The boys stared at the house on the cliff. A moment later they heard a loud cry for help. It was followed

  by another scream.

  "Somebody's in there and is in trouble!" Joe exclaimed. "We'd better find out what's going on!"

  Leaving the telescope, the four boys ran to the front door and tried the knob. The door was locked.

  "Let's scatter and see if we can find another door," Frank suggested.

  Frank and Joe took one side of the house, Biff and Chet the other. They met at the rear of the old home

  and together tried a door there. This, too, was locked.

  "There's a broken window around the corner," Biff announced. "Shall we climb in?"

  "I guess we'd better," Frank answered.

  As the boys reached the window, which seemed to open into a library, they heard the scream again.

  "Help! Hurry! Help!" came an agonized cry.

  CHAPTER II

  Thief at Work

  JOE was first to slide through the broken window. "Wait a moment, fellows," he called out, "until I

  unlock this."

  Quickly he turned the catch, raised the window, and the other three boys stepped inside the library. No

  one was there and they ran into the large center hall.

  "Hello!" Frank shouted. "Where are you?"

  There was no answer. "Maybe that person who was calling for help has passed out or is unconscious,"

  Joe suggested. "Let's look around."

  The boys dashed in various directions, and investigated the living room with its old-fashioned furnishings,

  the dining room with its heavily carved English oak set, the kitchen, and what had evidently been a maid's

  bedroom in days gone by. Now it was heaped high with empty boxes and crates. There was no one in

  any of the rooms and the Hardys and their two friends met again in the hall.

  "The man must be upstairs," Frank decided.

  He started up the front stairway and the others followed. There were several bedrooms. Suddenly Chet

  hung back. He wanted to go with his pals but the eeriness of the house made him pause. Biff and the

  Hardys sped from one to another of the many rooms. Finally they investigated the last of them.

  "Nobody here! What do you make of it?" Biff asked, puzzled.

  Chet, who had rejoined the group, said worriedly, "M-maybe the place is haunted!"

  Joe's eyes were searching for an entrance to the third floor. Seeing none, he opened three doors in the

  hall, hoping to find a stairway. He saw none.

  "There must be an attic in this house," he said. "I wonder how you get to it."

  "Maybe there's an entrance from one of the bedrooms," Frank suggested. "Let's see."

  The boys separated to investigate. Suddenly Frank called out, "I've found it."

  The others ran to where he had discovered a door behind a man's shabby robe hanging inside a closet.

  This in turn revealed a stairway and the group hurriedly climbed it, Chet bringing up the rear.

  The attic room was enormous. Old newspapers and magazines were strewn around among old-fashioned

  trunks and suitcases, but there was no human being in sig
ht.

  "I guess that cry for help didn't come from the house at all," Biff suggested. "What'll we do now? Look

  outdoors?"

  "I guess we'll have to," Frank answered.

  He started down the steep stairway. Reaching the foot, he turned the handle of the door which had

  swung shut. To his concern he was not able to open it.

  "What's the matter?" asked Chet from the top of the stairway.

  "Looks as if we're locked in," Frank told him.

  "Locked in?" Chet wailed. "Oh, no!"

  Frank tried pulling and pushing the door. It did not budge.

  "That's funny," he said. "I didn't see any lock on the outside."

  Suddenly the full import of the situation dawned on the four boys. Someone had deliberately locked them

  in! The cries for help had been a hoax to lure them into the house!

  "You think somebody was playing a joke on us?" Biff asked.

  "Pretty rotten kind of joke," Chet sputtered.

  Frank and Joe were inclined to think that there was more to it than a joke. Someone had seen a chance

  to steal a valuable telescope and two late-model motorcycles!

  "We've got to get out of here!" Joe said. "Frank, put your shoulder to the door and I'll help."

  Fortunately, the door was not particularly sturdy and gave way easily. Frank glanced back a moment as

  he rushed through and saw two large hooks which he had not noticed before. They had evidently been

  slipped into the eyes and had been ripped from the framework by the crash on the door.

  The other boys followed, running pell-mell through the hallway and clattering down the stairway. They

  dashed out the front door, leaving it open behind them. To their relief, the telescope still stood at the edge

  of the cliff, pointing seaward.

  "Thank goodness!" said Joe. "I'd hate to have had to tell Dad the telescope was gone!"

  Frank rushed over to take a quick look through the instrument. It had occurred to him that maybe some

  confederate of the smugglers had seen them spying. He might even have tricked them into the house

  during the very time that a smuggling operation would be within range of the telescope!

  When Frank reached the edge of the cliff and tried to look through the instrument, he gasped in dismay.

  The eyepieces from both the finder and the telescope tube had been removed!