Their parents were puzzled, but said nothing. Aunt Gertrude was frankly indignant and at mealtimes made many veiled references to the luxury-loving tendencies of modern youth.
“It’s not enough for them to have motorcycles and a motorboat, but now they must have an automobile!” she sniffed. “And it’s not enough for them to buy an ordinary flivver—they must have a car that a millionaire would be proud to own.”
Secretly, the boys considered this a compliment. They felt that their aunt would be vastly surprised if she knew the low price they had paid.
“Wait till she sees it when we have it painted,” said Frank.
Their chums, too, were unable to imagine what had possessed the Hardy boys to purchase a so large and expensive-looking car. Frank and Joe did not enlighten them. They had bought the car for a certain purpose and they were afraid that if they confided in anyone, their plans might leak out. So they busied themselves with painting the new car, and said nothing of their intentions to anyone, not even to Chet Morton.
At last the work was finished.
On Friday night after school Frank applied the last dab of paint, and the brothers stood back to survey their handiwork.
“She’s a beauty!” declared Joe.
“I’ll tell the world!”
The automobile was resplendent in its fresh coat of paint. The nickel glittered.
“Looks like a Rolls-Royce.”
“A car like that would tempt any auto thief in the world.”
“I hope it does.”
“Well, we’re all set for Act Two,” said Frank. “I think we’ll go out tonight. Our bait is ready.”
“I hope we catch something.”
With this mysterious dialogue, the boys went into the house for supper.
They were so excited over their impending journey that they could scarcely take time to eat.
“Some mischief on foot,” commented Aunt Gertrude.
XIII
In the Locker
The massive roadster rolled smoothly out of the garage that evening and the Hardy boys drove down High Street, greatly enjoying the attention their new car attracted. Freshly painted, the automobile had not the slightest evidence of being a secondhand car. It was long and low-slung, with a high hood, and there was a big locker at the back.
The upholstery was in good condition and the fittings were ornate and handsome. All in all, it was a car to arouse the envy of all their chums, and one that would arouse the covetousness of any auto thief.
This was precisely what the Hardy boys were counting on.
They drove about the streets until it was almost dark. They met Biff Hooper and Tony Prito, who exclaimed over the luxurious appearance of the roadster and immediately wanted a ride, but the boys were obliged to refuse.
“Sorry,” said Frank. “We’ll take you out any other time but tonight. We have business in hand.”
“I’d like to know what it’s all about,” remarked Biff. “You two have been mighty mysterious about something lately.”
“Some time you’ll understand,” sang out Joe, as they drove off.
They headed out the Shore Road.
It was getting dark and the headlights cut a brilliant slash through the gloom. Leaving Bayport behind, the boys drove about two miles out until they came to a place where a grassy meadow beside the road provided a favorite parking place for motorists who wished to descend the path leading down through the woods to the beach below.
“This is about as good a place as any,” said Frank.
“Suits me.”
He drove the car off the road onto the grass. It came to a stop.
“Anyone around, Joe?”
Joe looked back.
“No other cars in sight,” he reported a moment later.
“Then make it snappy.”
Anyone observing the roadster at that moment would have seen the two boys clamber out, but in the gloom they would not have seen what followed. For the boys suddenly disappeared.
The roadster remained where it was, parked by the road, in solitary magnificence.
A few minutes later an automobile passed by. It belonged to a Bayport merchant, out for an evening drive. He saw the splendid car by the roadside and said to his wife:
“Somebody is taking an awful chance. I wouldn’t leave a fine-looking automobile like that out here without someone to watch it. I guess the owner is down on the beach. If one of those auto thieves happens along there’ll be another good car listed among the missing.”
“Well, it’s their own lookout,” returned his wife.
They drove past.
But the roadster was not deserted, as it seemed. So quickly had the Hardy boys concealed themselves that, even had anyone been watching, it would have been difficult to follow their movements.
The roadster, having been built for show, had a large and roomy locker at the back. By experimenting in the privacy of the garage and by clearing this locker of all odds and ends, the boys found it was just large enough to accommodate them both.
Here they were hidden. They were not uncomfortable, and the darkness did not bother them, for each was equipped with a small flashlight.
“You didn’t forget your revolver, did you?” whispered Frank.
“No. I have it here,” answered his brother. “Have you got yours?”
“Ready in case I need it.”
Although there would seem to be no purpose in spending an evening crouched in the locker of a parked roadster, the Hardy boys had laid definite plans. From the morning they had bought the car they had perfected the various details of their scheme to capture the auto thieves on the Shore Road.
“Most of the cars have been stolen while they were parked on the Shore Road,” Frank had argued. “It stands to reason that the auto thieves are operating along there. Since the first few scares, not many people have been parking their cars along there, so the thieves have taken to stealing cars in town and to holdups. If we park the roadster, it’s ten chances to one the thieves won’t be able to resist the temptation.”
“And we lose a perfectly good car,” objected Joe.
“We won’t lose it, because we’ll be right in it all the time.”
“The thieves won’t
