Quickly Frank gave an account of the incident while the officer took notes. Then a seaman who
had been listening brought over a heavy ledger, which he spread open on the desk.
Lieutenant Parker ran his finger down the list of names and licenses of speedboats on the bay.
'Nothing here, fellows,' he announced, looking up. 'She must have come in from an outside port. Have you noticed a boat like that in the last week or so, Thompson?'
The seaman thought for a moment. 'No, sir,' he answered. 'But there's been a big regatta going on up the coast for a couple of days. She may have run down from there.'
'We'll go up and find her!' Joe put in eagerly. 'What town is it?'
'Northport.'
'Not so fast,' Frank said. 'Don't forget our other business, Joe.'
'You win,' Joe replied with a rueful grin, 'but I hate to see-'
'We'll have our patrol boats keep a lookout for the craft,' the officer promised. 'If we find it, I'll call you.'
It was late afternoon when the Napoli plowed through rough water on her return to the Hardy
boathouse.
To seaward, the wall of mist had mounted higher and moved in closer, so that now it seemed
almost at
the harbor's mouth.
'The fog's coming in fast,' Jerry remarked as Frank, Joe, Chet, and Biff disembarked. The Hardys thanked Tony for his help.
'That's okay,' he replied. 'It's getting late. We'd all better go home and get ready for Callie's party.'
'Don't forget your costume,' Joe called as the Napoli churned away. He turned to Chet and Biff.
'How about you, fellows? Are you all set for the masquerade?'
'I am!' The fat boy chuckled in anticipation. 'Wait'll you see what I'm going to wear!'
Biff grinned. 'Even you detectives won't know us.'
'We just have time to pick up our costumes from Mr. French before he closes,' Frank noted.
A few minutes later there was a clatter as Chet backed his jalopy onto Shore Road and he and
Biff drove off.
The Hardys kicked their motorcycles into life and started toward town. When they reached
Bayport's main street most of the stores were closing.
'We're in luck!' Frank declared as he parked in front of the costume store. 'It's still open. Mr.
French has a couple of customers in there!'
The boys hurried toward the door. Through the wide shopwindow they could see the tall, spare
proprietor, with thinning blond hair and a small graying mustache. He was talking earnestly to two men whose backs were turned. None of them noticed the boys.
As Frank pushed open the door, Mr. French stopped speaking. The taller of the strangers raised his voice and said in an ugly tone: 'Well, you're in this now, French, and don't you forget it!'
CHAPTER III
Faces in the Fog
THE door clicked shut behind the Hardys and the speaker whirled. He was a slight man with
gray hair, pale skin, and small dark eyes. His brow was furrowed in a deep scowl, but in a flash he assumed a genial smile.
'Hello there. You startled me. I didn't hear you come in.'
His companion was short and darkly tanned, with almost white-blond hair. He gave a little
laugh and nodded. Even Mr. French assumed a thin smile, though his eyes had a worried and
uncertain look.
'Sorry to interrupt,' Frank said, 'but we've come for our costumes.'
'You didn't interrupt anything, fellows,' the blond man assured them. 'Just a little standing joke we have with Mr. French. We've known him for years. But every time we come to town he
says he won't go out for a good time with us. So we have to get tough with him. Isn't that right, French?'
The shopkeeper smiled weakly and stammered, 'Yes ... of course . . . that's right.' Nervously he fingered a small costume box on the counter in front of him. Then, to Frank and Joe's surprise, he added, 'These are the sons of the famous detective, Fenton Hardy. Excuse me, I'll get their costumes.' He hurried into the back room.
Both strangers looked steadily at the boys a few moments before the gray-haired man spoke
up. 'I recollect that your father was once an eminent member of the New York City police
force.'
'That's right,' Frank replied.
'And haven't you young lads received attention in the public eye for your own exploits?'
Frank and Joe looked uncomfortable at the flattery. Before they could answer, Mr. French
returned with two cardboard boxes. He opened one and took out a hairy-skinned gorilla
costume. Its ferocious head was a rubber mask to fit over Frank's head.
'Going to a party, eh?' asked the white-haired man.
'Where will the festivities be held?' inquired the other.
'At a friend's house,' Frank replied evasively.
'Of course.' The man gave him a hard look.
Then, taking the small costume box from the counter, he said, 'Well, we wish you a pleasant evening, young gentlemen. Good night, Mr. French!'
With a cheery wave of the hand, the gray-haired stranger went out the door, followed by his
short companion. As they walked past the window, the Hardys looked them over carefully.
'Is my suit ready too, Mr. French?' Joe asked, after the men had passed from sight.
'Yes-the magician's outfit. Here it is.'
The shopkeeper opened the other box and held up a rubber mask with a long nose, sinister
slanting eyes, black mustache, and goatee. Joe looked at it for a moment with approval, then
returned it to the box.
'We'll bring the costumes back tomorrow,' he promised, and the brothers left the shop.
'Something queer was going on in there,' Frank said as they placed the boxes in the carriers of their motorcycles.
'I think that gray-haired fellow was threatening Mr. French,' Joe declared. 'Old friends, my foot! Did you notice how Mr. French tried to cover it up?'
'Maybe he didn't dare do anything else,' Frank suggested. 'He looked scared to me. Let's ask him about it tomorrow. He might be in some kind of trouble.'
'Okay,' his brother agreed as they mounted their motorcycles. 'But we're going to be busy on that Shantytown case.'
Minutes later, the two motorcycles swung into the Hardy driveway. 'Say, I have an idea!' Joe said, as the boys left the garage together. 'Let's put on our masks and give Mother and Aunt Gertrude a surprise.'
Frank chuckled. 'I'll ask what's new at the zoo.'
The brothers pulled the false faces over their heads and went to the front door. As Joe pressed the doorbell, chimes sounded within. The boys thrust their faces forward.
After a pause the door was opened by a tall, thin woman whose angular frame froze
momentarily to stiff attention. Her mouth opened and closed twice. On the third try her voice
succeeded.
'You're repulsive! Go away!' she cried and slammed the door.
The brothers burst into laughter. 'Poor Aunt Gertrude!' said Frank. 'It isn't often we can fool Dad's smart sister!'
The door opened again, revealing a handsome man with the build of an athlete. 'What's going -
?' Then he began to laugh. 'Okay, you nuts. Come in.' Frank and Joe ripped off the masks and walked into the living room.
