“That’s a nice-lookin’ roadster you landed tonight.”
“It’s been parked out on the Shore Road for two nights past. It seemed a shame to neglect a nice boat that way, so I took it in.”
“What would anybody park a car out there for on a night like this? Wasn’t there anybody around?”
“Not a soul. Mebbe the driver was out fishin’ and got caught in the rain and didn’t get back. Or he might have had engine trouble.”
“It ran for you, didn’t it?”
“Sure. But I can make ’em run when nobody else can.”
“You sure know how to handle a car. I’ll say that for you.”
There was a stir in the cave.
“Here he comes now,” announced someone.
Then the boys heard a familiar voice, a voice that sent a thrill of excitement through them.
“Coast is clear. You can run that car out now, Dan.”
It was the voice of Gus Montrose!
XIX
Captured
Tensely, the Hardy boys crouched in the tunnel, as they heard the voice of the Dodds’ former hired man.
“It’s a dirty night out,” he was saying. “You’re welcome to the trip, Dan.”
“Still raining?”
“Pouring. I’m soaked to the skin,” grumbled Montrose. “It’s no fun, ploughing down through that gully.”
“Well, you won’t have much more to do tonight,” said one of the men placatingly. “We landed a fine roadster while you were out.”
“The one I was telling you about?”
“The same.”
“Seems funny about that car being parked on the Shore Road three nights in a row. I saw it there the other evening and passed it up. Then last night I got in and would have driven it away, only I couldn’t get it started. Different kind of car than any I’ve ever been in. I went out and found Sam and we were going back when we ran right into the car turning around in a lane.”
“Didn’t see who was in it, did you?”
“No. The headlights shone right in our eyes. Seemed like a couple of young fellows. If they had been a little slower we’d have had the car.”
“Well, we have it now. They’ll wish they wasn’t so smart, leavin’ it out in the rain that way.”
“Nice wet walk they’ll have if they live in Bayport,” laughed Gus Montrose shortly. “I know who I wish owned it.”
“Your little friends?”
“Those brats of Hardy boys,” returned Gus. “Followed me for about three blocks today when I went uptown to meet Sam.”
“What was the big idea?”
“Aw, they kid themselves that they’re a couple of amateur detectives,” rasped Montrose. “Just because they’ve been lucky in a couple of cases they think they gotta go spyin’ on everybody.”
“What made ’em spy on you?”
“How should I know? I guess Dodd must have put them up to it.”
“They don’t figger you’re mixed up with these missin’ cars, do they?”
“How could they? Nobody has anythin’ on me,” bragged Gus. “But I told them a few things, anyway. I told ’em to lay off followin’ me or they’d get somethin’ they wasn’t lookin’ for.”
“What’d they say?”
“They backed down. Got scared and beat it.”
“That’s the way to talk to them,” approved the man called Dan. “Scare the daylights out of them.”
“Speakin’ of daylight—it’ll be daylight before you reach Atlantic City with that car if you don’t hurry up.”
“All right. All right. I’ll start movin’,” Dan growled.
“You might as well take some of that junk we got from the Importing Company’s truck, and ask Clancy to sell it for us. And don’t you forget to collect the money from him for the last car we turned over to him.”
“I won’t forget. Some of you guys had better come along and load a couple of those boxes for me.”
There was a heavy tramping of feet, that indicated the men were leaving the cave. The Hardy boys could hear their receding footsteps and the diminishing voices. Finally the cave was in silence.
Frank peeped out of the tunnel.
“They’ve gone,” he whispered.
“Are you going in?” questioned Joe.
“Sure. There’s no one around.”
He stepped out onto the rocky floor, with Joe at his heels.
The cave was not as large as the one in which the cars were stored, but from the boxes scattered around and from a litter of empty cigarette packages, burnt matches, old clothes, and other things lying about, it was clearly the meeting place of the gang.
“Well, we’ve found the auto thieves, all right. The next thing is to trap them.”
“We can’t do it alone, that’s certain,” said Joe. “I think we ought to get out of here as quickly as we can.”
“There’s probably only one opening to this place,” answered Frank, flashing the light about the walls.
It fell on a dark opening through which the thieves had departed. There was no other passage apparent, beyond the one through which the boys had entered.
“Not much use going after them. They’re probably all out in the cave where the cars are kept,” remarked Joe.
“We’ll just have to watch our chance.”
“Let’s take a look around here,” remarked Frank, after a minute of silence.
“We’ll have to be careful. They may come back and catch us,” answered his brother.
“We’ll watch out for that.”
With caution the boys began to look around them.
“Look!” cried Frank in a low tone.
He bent down and from the rocky floor picked up a big bunch of keys.
“Auto keys,” came from Joe.
“Yes, and all different. I suppose they have all the keys necessary to unlock any car.”
“More than likely.”
Near the keys they found a dark coat and a cap.
“I guess the keys dropped out of that coat,” remarked Frank.
“Looks like it.” Joe’s gaze traveled to a spot back of the coat. “Look, a wig!” he exclaimed.
“That shows they go out disguised.”
“It sure does. Say, we’re getting to the bottom of this mystery!”
“I hope so.”
The boys explored the underground chamber, but found nothing of further interest.
“So we were right, after all,” Frank said. “Gus Montrose is mixed
