There was a general laugh. From the number of voices, the lads judged that there were at least three or four men standing near the big car.
“Wonder who owns it,” said one of the several men.
“I don’t know who did own it, but I know that we own it now,” answered Alex promptly.
“What’ll we do? Leave it here?”
“There isn’t room inside. Might as well leave it.”
“I guess nobody will come along and steal it,” remarked Alex, who was evidently the wit of the party, for another burst of laughter greeted his words. “Want to look the car over?” he asked.
“Oh, it looks good enough from here.”
“What’s in that locker?” said one of the men. “There might be something valuable.”
A thrill of fear went through the two boys.
One of the men approached the back of the car. Frank gripped his revolver firmly.
XVII
The Cave
In a moment the lid of the locker would have been raised.
Then came an interruption.
“The boss wants us,” said one of the men.
The man approaching the back of the car halted.
“All right,” he growled. “We’ll leave this.”
He turned away. The Hardy boys sighed with relief.
“I guess he’s waitin’ for a report,” observed a voice, as the men began to move off. Their footsteps sounded sharp and clear on the rocks.
The sounds died away.
Complete silence prevailed. Not even a murmur broke the stillness. The lads remained quiet in the darkness of their hiding place.
Finally Frank stirred.
“They’ve gone,” he whispered.
“What shall we do now?” asked Joe.
“Let’s get out of here first. They may come back at any minute.”
Frank raised the lid cautiously. The blackness without was as utter and complete as the darkness within. He could see nothing.
He listened for a moment, thinking possibly some of the gang had remained behind, but he heard nothing. Quickly, he got out of the locker and leaped to the ground. Joe followed. They closed the lid.
“Boy! I thought it was all up with us,” whispered Joe. “When he came over to open the locker my heart was thumping so loudly I was sure he could hear it.”
“Me, too. Well, we can thank their boss—whoever he is. I wonder what kind of place we’re in, anyway.”
Frank switched on his flashlight.
By its brilliant gleam, he saw that they were in a rocky passageway, a large tunnel evidently in the bluffs along Barmet Bay. It was wide enough to accommodate the roadster, but did not offer a great deal of leeway on either side. It appeared to be a natural tunnel, although there was evidence that human toil had been responsible for widening it and clearing it out.
Frank stepped forward and cast the ray of light before him.
It revealed a blank wall of rock. Then, as he moved the flashlight to one side he saw that the tunnel slanted toward the left.
“What’ll we do?” asked Joe. “Follow it up along?”
He spoke in a whisper, but the walls magnified his voice and he awakened uncanny echoes.
“Sure. We’ll have to be careful, though, or we might meet them on the way back.”
Frank took the lead. He stepped forward very carefully, making no move that might dislodge a loose fragment of rock and start a tumult of echoes that would bring the gang upon them.
Cautiously, they advanced. Joe took his revolver from his pocket and gripped it tightly.
They realized that they were dealing with a band of desperate men, who would stop at nothing if they were discovered.
The Hardy boys rounded the corner of the passageway, and Frank’s flashlight revealed a number of large boxes, stacked up against the side of the tunnel. They halted and Frank scrutinized some lettering on the boxes.
“The Eastern Importing Company,” he read.
“Why, that’s the name of the company that lost the truck!” Joe exclaimed. “Remember? The two men who were held up and rolled down the bluff.”
“It’s the same name, all right. I’ll bet this is some of the truck cargo.”
The boxes were seven in number, and on each was inscribed the name of the Eastern Importing Company.
There was no doubt in the minds of the Hardy boys now that they had made a momentous discovery. This was plainly the hiding place of the auto thieves, and although none of the stolen cars were in evidence, the big packing boxes spoke for themselves.
“We’ll see what’s farther on,” Frank decided.
He went ahead. Joe tiptoed close behind. The flashlight illuminated the rocky floor of the tunnel.
It began to widen out. Stacked against the wall they came upon more packing boxes, some of which had been torn open.
“More loot,” Joe commented, in a whisper.
Every few steps, Frank halted and switched out the light. Then they stood in the darkness, listening. They had no desire to stumble on the auto thieves or reveal their own presence.
However, the boys heard not a sound. There was not a glimmer of light in the impenetrable gloom that lay before them.
A few yards farther, the tunnel widened out into a veritable cave. Here, as Frank turned the flashlight to and fro, and the boys were confronted by a sight that made them gasp for the moment.
In the great rocky chamber, they saw three large pleasure cars and a small truck, parked close by the clammy walls.
“The stolen autos!” breathed Joe.
There stood four of the missing cars, undamaged, in this secret cavern in the bluffs. They had been driven in along the tunnel from the beach. It was an ideal hiding place and as the entrance to the tunnel was doubtless well masked, the cars were as safe from discovery as though they had been driven into the ocean. At least, so the thieves probably thought.
“We’ve found them!” Frank exclaimed.
All the missing cars were not hidden here, but the boys judged that the rest were probably stored farther on. For the flashlight revealed a dark opening in the rock at the other end of the cavern, an opening to a tunnel that no doubt led to other caves
