Frank sighed with disappointment.
“I thought sure we had a bite that time,” he said.
“It was only a nibble.”
When the lads were quite sure their unknown visitor had gone, Frank raised the lid of the locker and the boys got out.
“I guess it was only some farmer on the way home. He probably just got into the car out of curiosity.”
“He wasn’t an auto thief, that’s certain, or he would have driven off with it.”
“Not much use staying around any longer.”
They got back into the seat. Nothing had been disturbed. Beyond turning the lights on and off, the stranger had tampered with nothing.
Frank started up the engine, and drove the car back onto the Shore Road. There was not much room in which to turn around, so he drove on down the road for about a quarter of a mile until he came to a lane which offered sufficient space.
Just as he was bringing the car around to head back toward Bayport, the headlights shone on two figures coming up the road. In the glare, the men were clearly revealed.
“There’s our friend Gus again,” remarked Frank quietly.
He was right. There was no mistaking the surly visage of the ex-farmhand. The man with him was unknown to the boys, but he was no more prepossessing than his companion. Broad of build, unshaven of face, he was not the sort of fellow one would care to meet alone on a dark night.
“Handsome-looking pair,” Joe commented.
The car swung out into the road and the two men stepped out into the ditch, turning their faces away. Frank stepped on the accelerator, and the roadster shot ahead.
“This seems to be Gus Montrose’s beat,” he said, when they had driven beyond hearing distance.
“Wonder what takes him out along here every night.”
“Perhaps he was the chap who got into the roadster.”
But Frank shook his head.
“That fellow went away in the direction Montrose is coming from,” he pointed out. “And, besides, he was alone.”
“That’s true, too.”
Wondering what brought Montrose and his villainous-looking companion out the Shore Road on foot at that hour, the Hardy boys drove back into Bayport.
“Better luck next time,” said Frank, cheering up.
“We won’t give up yet. Third time’s luck, you know.”
“Let’s hope so. Tomorrow night may tell.”
They drove back into the city without incident, and when they reached their home they saw that there was a light in their father’s study. Frank’s face lengthened.
“I’ll bet we’re in for it now. He doesn’t often stay up this late.”
“He’s likely sitting up to lecture us.”
They put the car into the garage. The light in the study seemed ominous just then.
“Well,” said Joe, “I guess we might as well go in and face the music. If the worst comes to the worst we’ll tell him just what we were up to.”
They went into the house. It would have been easy for them to have gained their room by the back stairs, but the boys had too much principle to dodge any unpleasantness in this manner, so they made a point of passing by their father’s study. The door was open and they saw Fenton Hardy sitting at his desk.
He was not writing, but was gazing in front of him with a fixed expression on his face. A telephone was at his elbow.
To their relief, he smiled when he saw them.
“Come in,” he invited.
Frank and Joe entered the study.
“Did you catch any auto thieves?” asked their father.
The boys were astonished.
“How did you know we were after auto thieves, Dad?” asked Frank.
“It doesn’t take a great deal of perception to find that out,” their father answered. “All these mysterious doings can have only one reason.”
“Well, we didn’t catch any,” Joe admitted.
“I didn’t think so. They’ve been busy tonight.”
“Again!”
Fenton Hardy nodded.
“I’ve just been talking to the secretary of the Automobile Club. He telephoned me a short time ago. The thieves cut loose in earnest this evening.”
“Did they steal another car?”
“Two. They made off with a new Buick that was parked down on Oak Street, and then they stole a truck from one of the wholesale companies.”
“Can you beat that!” breathed Joe. “Two more gone!”
“They were taken within a few minutes of each other, evidently. The reports reached the police station almost at the same time. The truck mightn’t have been missed until morning, but one of the wholesale company employees was coming home and he recognized it as it was driven away. He thought it rather suspicious, so he went on up to the company garage and found the truck had disappeared.”
The brothers looked at one another.
“A truck and a pleasure car!” exclaimed Frank. “Why, that must have been—”
The same thought had struck Joe.
“The two cars that passed us on the Shore Road! What time were they stolen, Dad?”
“Some time between half-past nine and ten o’clock. Why? Did you see them?”
“Two cars went out the Shore Road a little before ten o’clock. They were both going at a fast clip. I remember we remarked at the time that it was a funny hour of the night for a truck to be out.”
“The Shore Road, eh? Did you get a good look at them?”
The boys were embarrassed.
“Well, to tell the truth,” said Frank hesitatingly, “we didn’t exactly see them. We heard them.”
“Hm! You didn’t see them, but you heard them, and you were on the Shore Road. That’s a little mystery in itself,” remarked their father, with a smile.
He reached for the telephone and asked for a number. In a short time his party answered.
“Hello, Chief. This is Fenton Hardy speaking. … Yes. … I’ve just had information that the big car and the truck went out the Shore Road way a few minutes before ten o’clock. … Yes. … You’ve made inquiries? … I see. … That’s strange, isn’t it? … Yes, my information is quite reliable. … All right. … Let me know if you hear anything. … Don’t mention it. … Thank you, Chief. … Goodbye.”
He put down the telephone.
“I was talking to Chief Collig.
