The letter was unsigned.
“What on earth does it mean?” asked Mrs. Hardy.
Frank and Joe looked at one another in astonishment. Frank reached over for the letter and examined it. The strange document was typewritten on an ordinary quality of white paper. The envelope bore the Bayport postmark, indicating that it had been mailed from the city post-office early that morning.
“It must be a practical joke of some kind,” said Mrs. Hardy, in perplexity.
“Practical joke, nothing!” scoffed Aunt Gertrude shrewdly. “Did Fenton Hardy go to Chicago after some criminal?”
“He went to arrest Baldy Turk,” replied Frank.
“There!” Aunt Gertrude pounded the table. “That explains the whole thing. The companions of this Baldy person sent that letter in the hope that it would bring Fenton Hardy back from Chicago by the next train.”
“But the letter is addressed to Bayport.”
“Certainly! Why not? They wouldn’t know where to reach him in Chicago, so they sent the letter here and trusted that it would be forwarded to him. And if I hadn’t been here,” said Aunt Gertrude, “it very probably would have been forwarded to him. Am I right?”
“I usually forward his personal mail,” admitted Mrs. Hardy.
“There! Didn’t I know it? And look what would have happened. Fenton Hardy would have fallen right into the trap. He would have come back home, thinking his precious sons were kidnapped, and that would have given this Turk person time to get away. It’s a blessing I was here, I tell you. I hope this will be a lesson to you, Laura Hardy. Always open your husband’s mail! Always!”
IX
Blacksnake Island
In spite of Aunt Gertrude’s ingenious explanation of the letter, the Hardy boys were not quite satisfied. When they left the house they walked downtown, discussing the matter.
“Aunt Gertrude may be right, but somehow I think those fellows sent the letter to the house, believing dad was still there,” declared Joe.
“But if they knew he was at the house, or thought he was at the house, he would know we weren’t kidnapped.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Joe admitted, puzzled. “I’m hanged if I can figure it out, but I still think there is more to that letter than Aunt Gertrude imagines.”
“I have that idea myself. You noticed that they were very particular to tell how the ransom money was to be delivered. That was quite an elaborate stunt, to have the money thrown off the train at a grade crossing. That would mean that the crooks could come along in a car, snatch up the package and be away without much risk of capture. They’d hardly go to the trouble of outlining all that if they didn’t mean something by it.”
“Yes, if the letter was only sent as a blind to bring dad back to Bayport you’d hardly think they’d go into all that detail.”
“Still,” Frank pointed out, “here we are, safe and sound. Haven’t been kidnapped yet, and nobody has tried to kidnap us. If that letter had been sent to Chet’s people, for instance, or to the Hoopers, they would have something to worry about.” Suddenly he stopped and looked at Joe. “Say!” he exclaimed. “There’s an idea!”
“What?”
“Chet and Biff!” declared Frank excitedly. “Don’t you see? This may have something to do with them. Chet and Biff are missing. Perhaps they have been kidnapped.”
“But why should anyone kidnap them?” Joe looked wonderingly at his brother.
“In mistake for us. Don’t you see it? Perhaps this gang mistook Chet and Biff for you and me and kidnapped them! Then they wrote the letter to dad.”
“Gee, I never thought of that!” Joe exclaimed. “I’ll bet dollars to doughnuts that you’re right.”
“Don’t you remember the day we were all out in the boat and the three men came so close to us? Remember how closely they looked at Chet and Biff? Perhaps those fellows had been tipped off that you and I were in the boat and wanted to get a look at us so they could identify us when they got a chance to kidnap us. And instead of looking at us, they picked on Chet and Biff. They knew we owned a boat, but they wouldn’t know that Biff had one. Therefore they’d think that the chap at the wheel would be either you or me.”
“It hangs together, all right. And then, remember when we saw those same three men hanging around the Morton farm? They must have trailed Chet home to see where he lived. And all the time they thought he was either you or me!”
“I think we’re getting at the truth of it, Joe. When Chet and Biff started on their trip, those fellows followed them or lay in wait for them some place and captured them.”
Just then the Hardy boys met Phil Cohen and Tony Prito in front of the fruit stand of their friend, Nick the Greek, each with a bottle of pop.
“Hello,” was Tony’s greeting. “Have one?” he invited, indicating the pop.
“Don’t mind if we do, even if it is just after breakfast.”
Nick the Greek dexterously opened two bottles of pop and slapped them down on the counter. “Hot day, eh?” he said, as the boys reached for straws.
“You bet it’s hot.” After a satisfying gurgle of the ice-cold pop, the Hardy boys turned to their chums. “We have a clue,” declared Frank.
“About what?”
“About
