The Secret Of The Old Mill thb-3 Read online

  When the two crafts reached the Harbor Police pier, the boys went inside and gave a full

  account of what had happened to them and asked that the report be relayed to Chief Collig.

  "We'll give you some gas," said the sergeant who had rescued the boys. "Then do you think you can make it home alone?"

  "Yes, thank you."

  A half hour later the boys, tired and disappointed, cycled home. Their mother and aunt gasped

  with dismay at the sight of the weary boys in the water-sodden clothing. Joe and Frank,

  however, made light of the evening's experience.

  "We ran out of gas," Joe explained, "and had to swim back with the Sleuth"

  Aunt Gertrude sniffed skeptically. "Humph! It must have been some long ride to use up all that fuel!" She hustled off to make hot chocolate.

  Mrs. Hardy told the boys that their father had left the house an hour before and would be away overnight working on his case. Again Frank and Joe wondered about it. And did the attack

  tonight have any connection with either case?

  After a hot bath and a good night's sleep, Frank and Joe were eager to continue their search for clues to the bowman, the counterfeiters, and the writer of the first warning note to Mr. Hardy.

  Breakfast over, Frank and Joe went to the lab and dusted the archer's finger guard. To the

  brothers'

  delight they lifted one clear print.

  "We'll take this to Chief Collig on our way to the paper company in Bridgeport," Frank decided.

  Just before they left, Chet telephoned. "Guess what!" he said to Frank, who answered. "I have an appointment at Elekton to see about a job!"

  "How'd you do it?" Frank asked, amazed. "You sure work fast."

  Chet laughed. "I decided to telephone on my own," he explained. "The man in the personnel office told me there might be something available on a part-time basis. How about that?"

  "Swell," Frank said. "The vacancy must have come up since yesterday."

  "Funny thing," Chet added, "The personnel manager asked me if I'd applied before. I said No, though the guard had phoned about me yesterday. The manager said he didn't remember this,

  but that somebody

  else in the office might have taken the call."

  Chet became more and more excited as he talked about the prospect of getting a job in the

  Elekton laboratory. "I'm going to make a lot of money and-"

  "Don't get your hopes up too high," Frank cautioned his friend. "Elekton is such a top-secret outfit they might not hire anyone on a part-time basis for lab work. But you might get

  something else."

  "Well see," Chet replied optimistically.

  "Joe and I have something special to show you," Frank told him. "After you have your interview, meet us at the north end of the Bayport waterfront."

  Chet begged to know why, but Frank kept the news about the Sleuth a secret, "You'll see soon enough,"

  he said.

  "Okay, then. So long!"

  The Hardys hopped on their motorcycles and rode to police headquarters. They talked to Chief

  Collig in detail about the attack on them, and left the bowman's fingerprint for him to trace.

  "Good work, boys," he said. "I'll let you know what I find out."

  Frank and Joe had decided not to mention to him the green truck and its possible connection

  with the counterfeiters until they had more proof.

  The boys mounted their motorcycles and rode to Bridgeport. They easily located the Quality

  Paper Company, and inquired there for Mr. Evans, the sales manager, with whom they had

  talked the day before.

  When Frank and Joe entered his office and identified themselves, Mr. Evans looked at the

  brothers curiously. But he was most cooperative in answering their questions.

  "No," Mr. Evans said, "we don't sell our star watermark paper to retail stores in this vicinity. All our purchasers are large industrial companies. Here is a list." He handed a printed sheet across the desk to Frank.

  The boys were disappointed not to have obtained any individual's name. Nevertheless, Frank

  and Joe read the list carefully. Several names, including Elekton Controls Limited, were familiar to them. The warning note could have come from any one of thousands of employees of any of

  the firms.

  "I guess there's no clue here to the man we want to locate," Frank said to Mr. Evans.

  The boys thanked him. As they started to leave, he called them back.

  "Are you boys, by any chance, related to Mr. Fenton Hardy?" he asked.

  Joe, puzzled, nodded. "He's our father. Why?"

  "Quite a coincidence," Mr, Evans said. "Mr. Hardy was here a little while ago."

  "He was!" Frank exclaimed in surprise. The brothers exchanged glances, wondering what mission their father had been on.

  "Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned Mr. Hardy's visit," Mr. Evans said.

  "That's all right," Joe assured him. "If Dad had wanted the visit kept secret, he would have told you."

  When the boys were outside again, Frank said, "I hope Dad will be home. I'd like to find out what brought him here."

  Frank and Joe rode directly home and were glad to see Mr. Hardy's sedan in the driveway. The

  boys rushed into the house.

  They found the detective in his study, talking on the telephone. The boys paused next to the

  partly open door.

  ". . . the same eight-and-one pattern, I believe," their father was saying. . . . "Yes-I'll be there. . .

  .

  Good-by."

  Frank knocked and the boys entered the room. Mr. Hardy greeted them warmly. He was

  startled when Joe told him, "We know where you've been this morning, Dad."

  "Were you two shadowing me?" the detective joked.

  "Not exactly." Frank grinned, and explained why they had visited the Quality Paper Company.

  "Good idea," said the detective. "Did you learn anything?"

  "No," Joe replied glumly, then asked suddenly, "Dad, did you go to Quality Paper in connection with the warning note on the arrow?"

  Mr. Hardy admitted that he had gone there to investigate the watermark. "I believe I did find a clue to confirm a suspicion of mine. But I'm not sure yet where it will lead."

  The boys sensed that their father's trip had been linked to his secret case. "If it was to help us on the counterfeiting mystery, he'd say so," Frank thought. "And he hasn't mentioned Elekton, so I guess he doesn't suspect any of that company's employees."

  Mr. Hardy changed the subject. He looked at his sons quizzically. "What's this I hear from Aunt Gertrude about you boys coming home last night half dead?"

  The boys explained, omitting none of the details. "We didn't want to alarm Mother and Aunt Gertrude,"

  Frank said, "so we didn't tell them about the attack."

  Mr. Hardy looked grim and warned his sons gravely to be extra cautious.

  "There's one bright spot," he added. "The print you found on that finger guard. It could be a big break."

  During lunch the detective was unusually preoccupied. The boys tried to draw him out by

  questions and deductions about the counterfeiting case. He would say very little, however, and seemed to be concentrating on a knotty problem.

  A little later the boys rode their motorcycles straight to the boathouse and parked at the street end of the jetty. "Chet ought to show up soon," Joe remarked.

  As the brothers walked toward the boathouse Frank commented on his father's preoccupation

  during luncheon.

  "I have a hunch Dad's assignment is even tougher than usual," he confided. "I wish we could help him on it."

  Frank seemed to be only half listening and nodded absently.

  "What's the matter with you?" Joe laughed. "I'm talking to myself!"

  Suddenly Frank stopped. He grasped his brother's arm firmly.

 
; "Joe!" he said. "We may have found a clue in Bridgeport this morning, and didn't realize it!"

  CHAPTER X

  The Sign of the Arrow

  "WHAT clue do you mean, Frank?" Joe demanded eagerly.

  "Elekton's name was on that list Mr. Evans showed us this morning."

  "Yes, I know. But Dad didn't seem excited over that."

  "Well, I am," Frank said. "Put two and two together. Every time we've been near the Elekton area, something has happened. First, the warning on the arrow, then the attack last night."

  "Of course!" Joe said. "I get you! Someone who has access to the company's paper supply could have sent the warnings, and knocked us out. But who? An employee of Elekton?"

  "That's the mystery," said Frank. "Is the person trying to get at Dad through us? And which of the cases is this mysterious person connected with '-the counterfeit case or Dad's secret one?"

  "Then there's the bike," Joe recalled. "Someone from the company easily could have taken it from the storage area under the mill at night when the guard and maintenance man were

  inside the gatehouse."

  "Joe," said Frank slowly, "we're theorizing on the case having a connection with Elekton. Do you think Dad is, too, even though he didn't tell us? The Elekton name may have been the clue he

  found at Quality Paper!"

  Joe snapped his fingers. "My guess is that Dad is doing some detective work for Elekton! That would explain why he can't say anything. Elekton is doing top-secret space missile work."

  "It's possible," Frank speculated, "that Elekton retained Dad because of the chain of sabotage acts in plants handling similar jobs for the government."

  "Sounds logical," Joe agreed. "I guess Dad's main assignment would be to ward off sabotage at Elekton.

  No wonder he is so anxious to find out who sent the warnings."

  Just then Chet arrived in the Queen and leaped out.

  "I have a job!" he announced to Frank and Joe. Then he looked a bit sheepish. "It's-er-in the cafeteria, serving behind the food counter. The cafeteria is run on a concession basis, and the people working there aren't as carefully screened as the plant employees."

  Joe grinned. "It's not very scientific, but think of the food! You'll be able to eat anything you want."

  Chet sighed, and did not respond with one of his usual humorous comebacks. A worried

  expression spread over his face. He shifted from one foot to the other.

  "What's on your mind?" Joe prodded. "Not nervous about the job, are you?"

  Chet shook his head. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of white paper. "I am

  nervous about this-another warning note! It was on the seat of my car when I came out after

  the job interview." He handed the note to Frank.

  Unfolding it, Frank read aloud, " 'You and your pals watch out!' " There was no signature on the boldly printed note, but at the bottom was the crude drawing of an arrow.

  Chet gulped. "Must be that arrow shooter. He's keeping tabs on all of us!" he said.

  Frank and Joe studied the note intently for a minute, then Frank asked Chet, "Where did you park?"

  "Near the front entrance. The guard at the mill told me to go in that way to reach the personnel office."

  Chet smiled faintly. "Boy, was he surprised when I told him I had an appointment."

  The Hardys were more convinced than ever that their unknown enemy must somehow be

  linked with the Elekton company. "We'll compare this note with the others," Frank said. "But first, Chet, we'll show you something to cheer you up."

  The brothers led their friend into the boathouse. "Feast your eyes!" Joe grinned. "This is our surprise."

  Chet gasped when he saw the Sleuth. "Wow! She's really yours?"

  "You bet! How about a ride?"

  Eagerly Chet accepted. As the Hardys refueled from the boathouse tank, they told Chet about

  the adventure they had had the previous night.

  "You suspect there's a connection between somebody at Elekton and the counterfeiting?" Chet guessed.

  "That's right," Frank replied.

  He then told Chet about the Pritos having received a counterfeit bill, "We think," said Joe, "the boy in the panel truck who gave Mike the counterfeit twenty might have been Ken Blake,"

  "Ken Blake again," Chet commented. "Funny how he keeps turning up."

  The Hardys agreed. As Frank steered the Sleuth into the bay, Joe suggested, "Let's run up Willow River to the mill. That'll give you a good chance to see how the boat rides, Chet, and

  also we can stop to question the guard and maintenance man, and Ken Blake. They might have

  seen some suspicious people in the area."

  "I should've known this would turn into a sleuthing trip." Chet sighed. "Oh, well, I'm with you if we can learn anything about the counterfeiters."

  When Frank had the Sleuth well away from shore and out of the path of other craft on the bay,

  he pushed the throttle for more speed and steered the boat toward the mouth of the river.

  The Sleuth responded like a thoroughbred. The stern sat back in the water and in a second it

  was planing wide open across the bay.

  "How do you like this?" Frank called from the cockpit.

  "Terrific!" Chet yelled back enthusiastically.

  Frank now swung the wheel back and forth to show his friend how stable the boat was. Then he

  said, "Joe, take the wheel and show Chet your stuff!"

  The brothers changed places and Joe made a wide circle to port, with the Sleuth heeling

  beautifully. Then he headed for the river's narrow mouth.

  "Better slow down!" Frank warned him.

  Obediently Joe began to ease the throttle. The Sleuth did not respond! And there was no

  lessening of the roar of the engine.

  Quickly Joe turned the throttle all the way back. Still there was no decrease in speed.

  "Something's wrong!" he shouted. "I can't slow her down!"

  CHAPTER XI

  Sinister Tactics

  "WHAT do you mean you can't slow down?" Chet yelled. "Turn off the engine!"

  "Joe can't," Frank said grimly. "He has the throttle to off position and we're still traveling at full speed."

  There was no choice for Joe but to swing the Sleuth into another wide, sweeping turn. It would have been foolhardy to enter the river at such speed, and Joe knew that under the

  circumstances he needed lots of room to maneuver. The motorboat zoomed back into the

  middle of the bay. It seemed to the boys that suddenly there was tar more traffic on the bay

  than there had been before.

  "Look out!" Chet yelled. Joe just missed a high-speed runabout.

  He turned and twisted to avoid the small pleasure boats. The young pilot was more worried

  about endangering these people than he was about colliding with the larger vessels, which

  were commercial craft.

  "Keep her as straight as you can!" Frank shouted to Joe. "I'll take a look at the engine and see what I can do with it."

  Frank stood up and leaned forward to open the cowling in front of the dashboard, as the boat

  leaped across the waves in the bay.

  "Watch out!" Chet yelled, as Frank almost lost his balance.

  Joe had made a sharp turn to avoid cutting in front of a rowboat containing a man and several

  children.

  Joe realized that the wash of the speeding Sleuth might upset it.

  "If those people are thrown overboard," he thought, "we'll have to rescue them. But how?"

  Fortunately,

  the boat did not overturn.

  Frank quickly lifted the cowling from the engine and stepped into the pit. He knew he could

  open the fuel intake and siphon off the gas into the bay, but this would take too long.

  "I'll have to stop the boat-right now!" he decided.

  Frank reached down beside
the roaring engine and pulled three wires away from the

  distributor. Instantly the engine died, and Frank stood up just as Joe made another sharp turn to miss hitting a small outboard motorboat that had wandered across their path.

  "Good night!" Chet cried out. "That was a close one!"

  Even with the Sleuth's reduction in speed, the other boat rocked violently back and forth as it was caught in the wash. Frank grasped the gunwale, ready to leap over the side and rescue the

  man if his boat overturned.

  But the smaller craft had been pulled around to face the wash. Though it bounced almost out of the water, the boat quickly resumed an even keel.

  The lone man in it kept coming toward the Sleuth. As he drew alongside, he began to wave his

  arms and shout at the boys.

  "What's the matter with you young fools?" he yelled. "You shouldn't be allowed to operate a boat until you learn how to run one."

  "We couldn't-" Joe started to say when the man interrupted.

  "You should have more respect for other people's safety!"

  Frank finally managed to explain. "It was an accident. The throttle was jammed open. I had to pull the wires out of the distributor to stop her."

  By this time the outboard was close enough for its pilot to look over the Sleuth's side and into the engine housing where Frank was pointing at the distributor.

  The man quickly calmed down. "Sorry, boys," he said. "There are so many fools running around in high-powered boats these days, without knowing anything about the rules of navigation, I

  just got good and mad at your performance."

  "I don't blame you, sir," said Joe. Then he asked, "Do you think you could tow us into the municipal dock so that we can have repairs made?"

  "Glad to," said the man.

  At the dock, the Hardys and Chet watched while the serviceman checked the Sleuth to find out

  the cause of the trouble. Presently he looked up at the boys with an odd expression.

  "What's the trouble?" Frank asked. "Serious?"

  The mechanic's reply startled them. "This is a new motorboat and no doubt was in tiptop

  shape. But somebody tampered with the throttle!"

  "What!" Joe demanded. "Let's see!"

  The serviceman pointed out where a cotter pin had been removed from the throttle group. And

  the tension spring which opened and closed the valve had been replaced with a bar to hold the