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"I didn't have a chance-he wasn't conscious."

  "Then you may never be able to get a confession from him."

  Fenton Hardy shrugged. "I may be able to. If Jackley regains consciousness

  and knows he's going to die, he may admit everything. I intend to see him in

  the hospital and ask him about the Tower robbery."

  "Is he far away?"

  "Albany. I explained my mission to the doctor in charge and he promised to

  telephone me as soon as it was possible for Jackley to see anyone."

  "You say he used to work near here?" Joe asked.

  "He was once employed by the railroad, and he knows all the country around

  here well. Then he became mixed up in some thefts from freight cars, and

  after he got out of jail, turned professional criminal. I suppose he came back

  here because he is so familiar with this area."

  "I promised to call Mrs. Robinson," Frank spoke up. "Okay to tell her about

  Jackley?"

  "Yes, it may cheer her up. But ask her not to tell anyone."

  Frank dialed the number and relayed part of his father's story. The accused

  man's wife was overwhelmed and relieved by the news, but promised not to

  divulge the information. Just as Frank finished the call, the doorbell rang.

  Frank ushered in the private detective Oscar Smuff.

  "Your pa home?" he asked.

  "Yes. Come in." Frank led the way into the living room.

  Smuff, although he considered himself a top-notch sleuth, stood in awe of

  Fenton Hardy. He cleared his throat nervously.

  "Good afternoon, Oscar," said Mr. Hardy pleasantly. "Won't you sit

  down?"

  Detective Smuff eased himself into an armchair, then glanced inquiringly at

  the two boys. At once Mr. Hardy said, "Unless your business is very private,

  I'd like to have my sons stay."

  "Well, I reckon that'll be all right," Smuff conceded. "I hear you're working

  on this Applegate case."

  "Perhaps I am."

  "You've been out of town several days," Smuff remarked cannily, "so I

  deduced you must be workin' on it."

  "Very clever of you, Detective Smuff," Mr. Hardy said, smiling at his visitor.

  Smuff squirmed uneasily in his chair. "I'm workin' on this case too-I'd like to

  get that thousand-dollar reward, but I'd share it with you. I was just

  wonderin' if you'd found any clues."

  Mr. Hardy's smile faded. He said, with annoyance, "If I went away, it is my

  own business. And if I'm working on the Tower robbery, that also is my

  business. You'll have to find your own clues, Oscar."

  "Well, now, don't get on your high horse, Mr. Hardy,' the visitor

  remonstrated. "I'm just anxious to get this affair cleared up and I thought we

  might work together. I heard you were with the officers what chased this

  here notorious criminal Red Jackley."

  Mr. Hardy gave a perceptible start. He had no idea that news of the capture

  of Jackley had reached Bayport, much less that his own participation in the

  chase had become known. The local police must have received the

  information and somehow Smuff had heard the news.

  "What of it?" Mr. Hardy asked in a casual way.

  "Did Jackley have anything to do with the Tower case?"

  "How should I know?"

  "Wasn't that what you were workin' on?"

  "As I've told you, that's my affair."

  Detective Smuff looked sad. "I guess you just don't want to cooperate with

  me, Mr. Hardy. I was thinkin' of goin' over to the hospital where this man

  Jackley is and questionin' him about the case."

  Mr. Hardy's lips narrowed into a straight line. "You can't do that, Oscar. He

  isn't conscious. The doctor won't let you see him."

  "I'm goin' to try. Jackley'll come to some time and I want to be on hand.

  There's a plane at six o'clock, and I aim to leave my house about five-thirty

  and catch it." He thumped his chest in admiration. "Detectives don't have to

  show up for a plane till the last minute, eh, Mr. Hardy? Well, I'll have a talk

  with Jackley tonight. And I may let you know what he says."

  "Have it your own way," said Mr. Hardy. "But if you take my advice you'll

  not visit the hospital. You'll just spoil everything. Jackley will talk when the

  times comes."

  "So there is somethin' in it!" Smuff said triumphantly. "Well, I'm goin' over

  there and get a confession!" With that he arose, stumped out of the room,

  and left the house.

  CHAPTER XIII

  Teamwork

  AFTER Smuff left the house, Mr. Hardy sat back with a gesture of despair.

  "That man," he said, "handles an investigation so clumsily that Red Jackley

  will close up like a clam if Smuff manages to question him."

  At that moment the telephone rang. The boys listened excitedly as Mr. Hardy

  answered. "Hello. . . . Oh, yes, doctor. ... Is that so? . . . Jackley will probably

  live only until morning? ... I can see him. . . . Fine. . . . Thank you. Good-by."

  The detective put back the receiver and turned to the boys. "I'll take that

  six-o'clock plane to Albany. But if Smuff goes too, it may ruin everything. The

  Albany police and I must question Jackley first."

  "When's the next commercial flight after six?" Joe asked.

  "Seven o'clock."

  "Then," said Frank, "Smuff can take that one and question Jackley later.

  Come on, Joe. Let's see what we can do to help Dad!"

  "Don't you boys do anything rash," their father warned.

  "We won't."

  Frank led the way outdoors and started walking down the street.

  "What's on your mind?" Joe asked as they ! reached the corner.

  "We must figure out how to keep Detective Smuff in Bayport until seven

  o'clock."

  "But how?"

  "I don't know yet, but we'll find a way. We can't have him bursting into that

  hospital room and spoiling the chance of Dad's getting a confession. Smuff

  might ruin things so the case will never be solved."

  "You're right."

  The brothers walked along the street in silence. They realized that the

  situation was urgent. But though they racked their brains trying to think of a

  way to prevent Detective Smuff from catching the six-o'clock plane, it seemed

  hopeless.

  "Let's round up our gang," Joe suggested finally. "Perhaps they'll have some

  ideas."

  The Hardys found their friends on the tennis courts of Bayport High.

  "Hi, fellows!" called Chet Morton when he saw

  Frank and Joe approaching. "You're too late for a game. Where've you

  been?"

  "We had something important to do," Frank replied. "Say, we need your

  help."

  "What's the matter?" asked Tony Prito.

  "Oscar Smuff is trying to win that thousand-dollar reward and get himself on

  the Bayport police force by interfering in one of Dad's cases," Frank

  explained. "We can't tell you much more than that. But the main thing is, we

  want to keep him from catching the six-o'clock plane. We-er-don't want him

  to go until seven."

  "What do you want us to do?" Bill Hooper asked.

  "Help us figure out how to keep Smuff in Bay-port until seven o'clock."

  "Without having Chief Collig lock us up?" Jerry Gilroy put in. "Are you

  serious about this, Frank?"

  "Absolutely. If Smuff gets to a certain place before Dad can, t
he case will be

  ruined. And I don't mind telling you that it has something to do with Slim

  Robinson."

  Chet Morton whistled. "Oh, ho! I catch on. The Tower business. If that's it,

  we'll make sure the six-o'clock plane leaves here without that nutty

  detective." Chet had a special dislike for Smuff, because the man had once

  reported him for swimming in the bay after hours.

  "So our problem," said Phil solemnly, "is to keep Smuff here and keep out of

  trouble ourselves."

  "Right."

  "Well," Jerry Gilroy said, "let's put our heads together, fellows, and work

  out a plan."

  A dozen ideas were put forth, each wilder than the one before. Biff Hooper,

  with a wide grin, went so far as to propose kidnaping Smuff, binding him

  hand and foot, and setting him adrift in the bay in an open boat.

  "We could rescue him later," he said. The proposal was so ridiculous that

  the others howled with laughter.

  Phil Cohen suggested setting the detective's watch back an hour. That plan,

  as Frank observed, was a good one except for the minor difficulty of laying

  hands on the watch.

  "We might send him a warning not to take a plane before seven o'clock,"

  Tony Prito said, "and sign it with a skull and crossbones."

  "That's a keen ideal" Chet cried enthusiastically. "Let's do it!"

  "Wait a minute, fellows," Frank spoke up. "If Smuff ever found out who

  wrote it, we'd be up to our necks in trouble. We could all be arrested!"

  "I know!" Joe cried suddenly, snapping his fingers. "Why didn't I think of it

  before? And it's so simple, too."

  "Well, tell us!" Frank urged.

  Joe explained that every once in a while he and Frank went down to Rocco's

  fruit store to act as clerks while the owner went home to supper. He stayed

  open evenings until nine.

  "Rocco's is only a block from Smuff's house. Smuff knows Frank and I go

  there, so he wouldn't be surprised to see us in the neighborhood. I suggest

  that the bunch of us meet casually down near the store and one boy after

  another stop Smuff to talk. Maybe we can even get him into the shop. You

  know Smuff loves to eat."

  "You can't hate him for that," Chet spoke up. "I'll be glad to invite him in

  and buy him an apple for his trip."

  "A fifteen-minute delay for Smuff is all we need," Frank said.

  "I think it's a swell idea," Biff spoke up. "And I'm sure Mr. Rocco will

  co-operate."

  "Who's going to persuade him?" Phil asked.

  "That's Frank and Joe's department," Jerry replied.

  Rocco was a hard-working man who had come from Italy only a few years

  ago. He was a simple, genial person and had great admiration for the Hardy

  boys.

  The whole group made their way toward the fruit store, but only the Hardys

  went inside. The others spread out to watch for Smuff, who was expected to

  leave his house soon. Each boy went over his part in the plan.

  When Frank and Joe walked into the fruit store, they found the dark-eyed

  Rocco sorting oranges. "Buona sera" he said. "Good evening. How you like

  my fix the place?"

  "Looks swell," Frank answered. "New bins. Better lights." Then he added,

  "How does your neighbor Smuff like it?"

  Rocco threw up his hands in a gesture of disgust. "Oh, that man! He make

  me mad. He say I charge too much. He tell me I ought to go back to old

  country."

  "Don't pay any attention to him," Joe advised. "Say, Mr. Rocco," he went

  on, "you look tired. Why don't you go home for an hour or so and let Frank

  and me take over here?"

  "You think I look tired? That worry my wife. Then Rosa say I must close up

  early." Rocco sighed. "You very kind boys. I do what you say. Come back

  six-thirty."

  As Rocco removed his apron, he said, "I fix trash in yard to burn. You do

  that?"

  "Glad to."

  Rocco showed them a wire incinerator in the yard, then left the store. Five

  minutes later there was a whistle from the street. A signal from Jerry I Frank

  and Joe went to the front door to watch. Smuff was just backing his car out

  of the driveway. As prearranged, Phil hurried over and stopped him.

  The detective and the boy apparently got into an argument, but it did not last

  long enough to satisfy Frank and Joe. The conversation took less than two

  minutes, then Smuff backed around into the street.

  "Hey, Frank," said Joe, "I have an idea. Go light that trash. Make it a

  roaring fire!"

  Without further explanation he dashed into the street, but Frank figured out

  what was in his brother's mind. He dashed through the store and into the

  yard. Quickly he lighted the papers in the incinerator in several places. The

  rubbish blazed lustily.

  Joe was intently watching the scene down the street. Smuff was now being

  "interviewed" by Biff, and Chet came forward to urge Smuff to take some

  fruit with him on his trip. The detective hesitated, then shook his head and

  started off in his car.

  Only five of the necessary fifteen-minute delay had elapsed I Joe hesitated no

  longer. Running down the street, he held up one hand for the oncoming car to

  stop.

  "Come quick, Smuff!" he called out "There's a fire back of Rocco's!"

  "Well, you put it out. I'm in a hurry!" the detective told the boy tartly.

  "You mean you'd let all of Bayport burn down just because you're in a

  hurry?" Joe pretended to scoff.

  Smuff winced, but still did not move. Joe said, starting back to the store,

  "Well, Frank and I will have to take care of it alone."

  This brought the detective to action. He realized he might be missing a

  chance to become a hero! In a flash he drove his car down the street and

  parked in front of the fruit store.

  "Where's the fire?" Smuff cried out, nearly bumping into Frank who was

  dashing from the front door of Rocco's.

  "The fire-is-back there-in the yard." Frank pretended to pant. "You go look

  and see if we ought to turn in an alarm."

  Smuff dashed inside the store and hurried to the yard. By this time the

  Hardys' friends had gathered in Rocco's fruit store. They asked excitedly

  what was going on.

  "Frank! Joe!" yelled Smuff from the rear of the store. "Where's Rocco?

  Where's a pail? Where's some water?"

  CHAPTER XIV

  The Confession

  "Rocco's not around," Joe replied to Smuff. "There's water in the sink-in the

  back. Shall I call the fire department?"

  "No, I can manage this," Smuff declared. "But where's a pail?"

  Frank dashed into the back room and found a pail under the sink. He filled it

  with water and handed the pail to Smuff, who hurried to the yard. He doused

  the incinerator flames which hissed and crackled, then died.

  "Some people have no sense," Smuff commented. "The idea of anyone

  starting a fire, then going off and leaving it! I'll bet that was Rocco's work!

  As for you boys-you had to call me. Didn't have the savvy to put out a simple

  fire."

  "Good thing you were around," Frank observed, suppressing a smile.

  "I'll say it was," Smuff agreed. "And Chief Collig is sure goin' to hear about

  this."

 
"Oh, please don't tell him about us," Joe spoke up, half closing his eyes so

  Smuff could not see the twinkle in them.

  "I didn't mean that. Oscar Smuff is no squealer. I mean Collig is goin' to hear

  what I did." The detective chuckled. "One more notch in my gun, as the

  cowboys say."

  Suddenly Smuff sobered and looked at his wrist watch. "Oh, no!" he cried

  out. "Ten minutes to six! I can't make my plane!"

  "That's a shame," Frank said consolingly. "But cheer up, Smuff, there's a

  seven-o'clock plane for Albany. I wish you luck in your interview."

  Smuff stormed out of the fruit store and disappeared with his car. The

  Hardys and their friends burst into roars of laughter which did not stop until

  a woman customer came into the shop. All the boys but Frank and Joe left.

  Rocco returned at six-thirty, pleased that so much fruit had been sold during

  his absence. "You better salesman than Rocco." He grinned widely.

  The Hardys went home, well-satisfied with their day's work. The six-o'clock

  plane had left without Smuff. Their father could make his trip to the hospital

  without the annoying detective's interference.

  Fenton Hardy did not return home until the next afternoon. When the boys

  came from school they found him in high spirits.

  "Solved the mystery?" Joe asked eagerly.

  "Practically. First of all, Jackley is dead."

  "Did he confess?"

  "You're not very sympathetic toward the poor fellow, Joe. Yes, he confessed.

  Fortunately, Oscar Smuff didn't show up while Jackley was talking."

  Frank and Joe glanced at each other and their father smiled quietly. "I have

  an idea," he said, "that you two sleuths know more about this Smuff business

  than you would care to tell. Well, anyhow, the Albany police and I had a clear

  field. I saw Jackley before he died and questioned him about the Tower

  robbery."

  "Did he admit everything?"

  "Jackley said he came to Bayport with the intention of robbery. He stole a

  car, smashed it up, and took Chet's. Then he went to rob the ticket office.

  When he failed in that he decided to hang around town for a few days. He hit

  upon Tower Mansion as his next effort. Jackley entered the library with

  gloves on, opened the safe, and took out the jewelry and securities." "What

  did he do with the loot?" "That's what I'm coming to. It was not until Jackley

  knew he was at the point of death that he did confess to the Tower affair.