he agreed.
'But it makes me sore to be accused of doing it! What I came to tell you, though, is this-I know who did beat him up. It was one of his own pals!'
'Ben Stark?' Frank asked curiously.
'No, a fellow they call Pops. Remember I told you about the bunch who were always fighting with one another? Well, Sutton and Pops do most of it. Pops finally gave it to him good, but
Sutton won't tell the police.'
'That must mean they're in something illegal together,' Frank reasoned. 'How about this Pops, Alf-is he an old man?'
'No. Although he's bald, he's younger than Sutton-bigger and stronger. Talks loud, too. I don't know why they call him Pops.'
Frank and Joe looked at each other excitedly Both immediately thought of Ben Stark's pal who
was still at large. Could Pops be the Fizzle soda drinker?
'Thanks for telling us, Alf,' said Joe. 'We're glad you're out of jail. You've been in twice and both times because of us.'
'You couldn't help it,' replied their big friend, 'and you spoke up for me both times. I appreciate that.'
After Alf had left, the brothers had some lunch, then headed for the waterfront on their
motorcycles.
Tony and Jerry were already in the Napoli when the Sleuth came alongside the Prito dock. With
serious, determined faces the four friends headed for Hermit Island.
As soon as they reached the ocean, the boys were confronted by a fast-darkening sky and
choppy sea.
With incredible swiftness, black clouds, with chains of lightning snapping underneath them,
moved in from the south. Large raindrops began to pelt the boys. In another moment the
darkness closed around them like nightfall. Lightning flashed on the heaving ocean and the rain smacked down on them almost painfully.
'Why didn't we bring slickers!' Joe exclaimed.
Through it all, Joe kept the Sleuth's nose pointed northward. Presently, illuminated by the
lightning, a rocky mass came into view.
'There's the island,' Frank called out. 'A motorboat's just pulling away, Joe!'
'Let's chase it!' Joe cried. 'Some of the gang may be aboard and are escaping.'
'Not now,' Frank cautioned. 'Chet and Biff come first!' As the boys watched, the dark-brown craft disappeared in the distance.
As suddenly as it had come up, the black squall passed over. The Sleuth and the Napoli circled toward the island's beach. By this time the rain had stopped.
The clouds parted, blue sky appeared, and the sun beat down again. Under its burning heat the
boys'
clothes began to dry out.
'The storm's probably driven that phony hermit under cover,' Joe said. 'Let's get ashore before he spots us.'
The boys found a small cove fringed with small, scrubby oak trees. Quickly concealing their
boats in this cover, they debarked and set out on the path around the island.
This time no one disturbed them. The trail climbed and then dropped down to the level of the
shore again. Overhead loomed the wet bluff.
Suddenly Frank stopped and pointed to a dark opening in the gray rock ahead. 'A cave!' he said quietly.
The boys crept nearer. Just outside the cave's entrance, Frank lifted a warning hand.
'Voices!' he whispered.
CHAPTER XVII
Hermit's Hideout
HOLDING themselves rigid against the damp rock, the four boys strained to listen. Somewhere
inside the cave a man was talking rapidly, but his words were muffled and indistinct.
'What's he saying?' whispered Tony.
Frank motioned for the others to hold their places. Then he lay on his stomach and inched
cautiously forward until his head was just outside the cave opening. From this position he could hear what was going on inside.
'Well, what's happening?' Jerry whispered impatiently. 'Tug at his ankle, Joe!'
But just then Frank came wriggling backward. He jumped to his feet, and clutching his sides,
hastened some distance down the path.
Joe, Tony, and Jerry ran after him.
'Frank-what's the matter?' his brother asked. 'What was he saying?'
Frank tried to speak, but his chest heaved with suppressed laughter. Finally he managed to tell them: 'The fellow was saying . . . 'B-buy B-b-butterfly Baby Foods'!'
'Wha-a-t!' The three boys looked at one another, completely mystified.
'We were listening to a radio,' Frank blurted out. 'The announcer was giving a commercial!'
'You mean the hermit's in there, listening to the radio?' Joe asked.
'I couldn't see,' Frank replied. 'Maybe Chet and Biff are there! It's likely, anyhow, that their guard went in to avoid the rain. Now that it's over, he'll probably come out again. Our best
move is to find a good spot to lie in wait for him.'
Near the cave mouth the boys found a large, brush-protected boulder and hid themselves
behind it. For some time they waited. From inside the cave, snatches of music alternated with
the announcer's voice.
At last Joe could stand it no longer. 'Maybe there's nobody inside!' he burst out impatiently.
'I'm going to have a look!'
'Careful!' Frank whispered, as his brother slipped out of hiding.
Joe darted to the path, lay down, and inched himself forward until he could see into the cavern.
For several minutes he peered inside, then scrambled back behind the boulder.
'Somebody is in there!' he reported. 'He's asleep and forgot to turn off his radio.'
'Any sign of Chet and Biff?' Frank asked.
Joe shook his head. 'No.'
'Do you think it's the hermit?' Jerry asked.
'I don't know,' Joe replied. 'Anyway, he's alone.'
'We could surprise this fellow while he's asleep,' Tony said.
Frank nodded. 'But Chet and Biff may be somewhere else on the island. Let's search while the fellow in the cave is asleep.'
'Good idea,' Joe agreed. 'Look for a hut or shelter where the boys might be prisoners.'
A brief examination of the gray bluff revealed a narrow cleft leading to the top of the precipice.
Joe, ascending first, found himself on another path which seemed to rim the island from the
top of the bluffs.
'Here's the trail the hermit used to keep us in sight yesterday,' he told the others.
After scrambling up, Frank, Tony, and Jerry paused for a look about. Below them sparkled the
bright ocean, extending to the mainland a few miles away. Behind lay a little plateau,
overgrown with small pines and scrub oaks. In the center of the flat area rose a steep, rocky hill which gave the island its humping silhouette
'A hut would be easy to camouflage among those trees,' Frank remarked. 'We'll have to spread out and comb every foot of the woods.'
Though the youths worked carefully around the plateau, they found no sign of any shelter. On
the island's
