Frank and Joe Hardy were wide awake for the rest of the morning.
After lunch, they were on their way back to school, resolving to cut out the late hours, so as not to risk a repetition of the ridicule they had suffered that morning, when Frank suddenly caught sight of a familiar figure not far ahead.
“Why, there’s Gus Montrose again,” he said. “Wonder what he’s doing in town?”
“Let’s trail him,” Joe suggested.
“Good idea. We’ll find out what he does with his time.”
The former hired man of the Dodds was shambling down the street at a lazy gait, apparently wrapped up in his own concerns. Frank and Joe followed, at a respectful distance. When Montrose reached a busy corner he turned down a side street and here his demeanor changed. His shoulders were straighter and his step more purposeful.
Taking the opposite side of the street, the boys strolled along, keeping well behind Montrose but not letting him out of sight. They followed him for about two blocks and then, leaning against a telegraph pole at the next corner, they saw Montrose’s companion of the previous night. He looked up as Montrose approached, and then the pair met and joined in earnest conversation.
There was something peculiarly furtive about the two men. Not wishing to be observed, the Hardy boys stepped into a soft drink place near by and bought some ginger ale, which they drank in the store, keeping an eye on the pair across the street, through the window.
Finally, Montrose’s companion moved slowly away, and Montrose himself shambled across the road. He was lost to sight for a moment.
“We’ll trail him a little while longer,” said Frank. “We have about a quarter of an hour before school opens.”
They paid for the ginger ale and stepped out of the shop. To their astonishment, Gus Montrose was coming directly toward them. They had lost sight of him in the window and had assumed that he had gone on down the street. Instead he had turned back.
They affected not to notice him, and were starting back up the street when Montrose overtook them and brushed against Frank rudely.
“Look here,” he said, in a gruff voice. “What’s the idea of followin’ me, hey?”
“Following you!” said Frank, in tones of simulated surprise.
“Yes—followin’ me. I saw you. What do you mean by it?”
“Can’t we walk down the same street?” inquired Joe.
“You didn’t walk down here by accident. You followed me here.”
“You must have something on your conscience if you think that,” Frank told him. “This is a free country. We can walk where we like.”
“Is that so? Well, I’m not goin’ to put up with havin’ a pair of young whippersnappers trailin’ me around town,” snarled Gus Montrose. “Hear that?”
“We hear you.”
“Well, remember it, then. You just mind your own business after this, see?”
“If you think we were following you, that’s your own affair,” returned Frank. “We’re on our way to school, if you’d like to know.”
“Well, see that you go there. You’re better off in school than monkeyin’ in my affairs, let me tell you. And a sight safer, too.”
The man’s tone was truculent.
“Oh, I think you’re pretty harmless,” laughed Joe.
“You’ll find out how harmless I am if I catch you followin’ me around again. Just mind your own business after this and keep goin’ in the opposite direction when you see me comin’.”
The man’s insulting tone annoyed Frank.
“Look here,” he said, sharply, facing Montrose. “If you don’t start off in the opposite direction right now, I’ll call a policeman. Now, get out of here.”
Somewhat taken aback, Gus Montrose halted.
“You were followin’ me—” he growled.
“You heard what I said. Clear out of here and stop annoying us.”
If Montrose had hoped to frighten the lads, he was disappointed. Like most cowardly men, he backed down readily when confronted with opposition. Grumbling to himself, he turned away and crossed the street.
The Hardy boys went on toward school.
“That’ll give him something to think about,” remarked Frank.
“You hit the right note when you said he must have something on his conscience or he wouldn’t have thought we were following him.”
“I’m sure he has. A man with a clear conscience would never suspect he was being trailed. There’s something mighty fishy about Gus Montrose and his queer-looking friend.”
“Too bad he saw us. He’ll be on his guard against us now.”
“That doesn’t matter. We can keep an eye on him just the same. I’d give a farm to know what the pair of them were talking about.”
“And I’d give a five-dollar bill just to know if he put that fishing pole in the car up at the Dodds’ and got Jack into trouble.”
“So would I.”
The boys were greatly puzzled. They were convinced that Gus Montrose was up to no good and this conviction had only been strengthened by their encounter. They reasoned that a law-abiding man would scarcely have shown such resentment as Montrose had evidenced.
“Well, whether he’s one of the thieving party or not, we’ll take another whirl at the Shore Road tonight,” said Frank, as the two brothers entered the school yard.
Joe glanced at the sky. Massed clouds were gathering and the air was close.
“Looks as if we’ll have to call it off. There’s going to be a storm.”
“Storm or no storm, I have a hunch that we’ll get some action before the day is out.”
Both Frank and Joe were right.
There was a storm, and before midnight they had more action than they had ever bargained for.
XVI
Kidnaped
Rain threatened throughout the afternoon, but although the sky darkened and there was an ominous calm, the storm held off. After supper the Hardy boys went outside and looked at the clouds.
“It’s sure going to be a jim-dandy,” declared Joe. “Do you think we really should go out tonight?”
“A little thing like a storm won’t hold the car thieves back. They’ll operate in any weather.”
“Won’t they think it queer to see a car
