“It’s an outrage, that’s what it is!” declared Callie abruptly. “Mrs. Robinson and the girls were always accustomed to having everything so nice! And now they have to live away out here! Oh, I hope your father catches the man that committed that robbery!”
Her eyes flashed and for a moment she looked so fierce that Frank laughed.
“I suppose you’d like to be the judge and jury at his trial, eh?” he chuckled.
“I’d give him a hundred years in jail!”
When at length they came to the street to which the Robinsons had moved they found that it was an even poorer thoroughfare than they had expected. There were squalid shacks and tumbledown houses on either side of the narrow street, and ragged children were playing in the roadway. At the far end of the street they came to a small, unpainted cottage that somehow contrived to look neat in spite of the surroundings. The picket fence had been repaired and the yard had been cleaned up.
“This is where they live,” said Frank. “It’s the neatest place on the whole street.”
Paula answered their knock. Her face lighted up with pleasure when she saw who the callers were.
“Frank and Callie!” exclaimed the girl. “You’ve come to see us! Come in. We’re dying of loneliness. There hasn’t been a soul out this way since we moved.”
Callie flashed Frank a look of triumph, and whispered:
“There, now! Didn’t I tell you they’d be glad?” as they went into the house.
They were greeted with kindly dignity by Mrs. Robinson and with girlish good humor by Tessie. Mrs. Robinson received them with the same self-possession she would have shown had they been back at Tower Mansion, and Frank wondered at himself for thinking that these good people might be ashamed to meet their old friends in this new and humbler home.
“We can’t stay long,” explained Callie. “But Frank and I just thought we’d run out to see how you all are.”
“We’re all well—that’s one mercy to be thankful for,” answered Mrs. Robinson. “Perry is working. I suppose you knew that.”
“And Mr. Robinson?” inquired Frank.
She shook her head.
“Not yet.” Mrs. Robinson’s lips quivered. “It’s so hard for him,” she said. “Without a recommendation, you know. It looks as though he might have to go to another city to get work.”
“And leave you here?”
“I suppose so. We don’t know what to do.”
“It’s so unjust!” flared Paula. “Papa didn’t have a thing to do with that miserable robbery, and yet he has to suffer for it just the same!”
“Has your father—discovered anything—yet, Frank?” asked Mrs. Robinson hesitantly.
“I’m sorry,” admitted Frank. “We haven’t heard from him. He’s been away in New York following up some clues. But so far there’s been nothing. Of course, it isn’t often he falls down on a case.”
“We hardly dare hope that he’ll be able to clear Mr. Robinson. The whole case is so mysterious.”
“I’ve given up thinking of it,” Tessie declared. “If it is cleared up, all well and good. If it isn’t—we won’t starve, at any rate, and papa knows we all believe in him.”
“Yes, I suppose it doesn’t do much good to keep talking about it,” agreed Mrs. Robinson. “We’ve gone over it all so thoroughly that there is nothing more to say.”
So, by tacit consent, the subject was changed, and for the rest of their stay Frank and Callie chatted of doings at school. Mrs. Robinson and the girls invited them to remain for supper, but Callie insisted that she must go. When they left they promised faithfully to pay another visit in the near future. Only once again was the subject that was nearest their hearts brought up, and that was when Mrs. Robinson drew Frank to one side as he was leaving.
“Promise me one thing,” she said. “Let me know as soon as your father returns—if he has any news.”
“I’ll do that, Mrs. Robinson,” agreed the boy. “I know what this suspense must be like for you.”
“It’s terrible. But as long as Fenton Hardy is working on the case I’m sure that it will be cleared up if it is humanly possible.”
And with that, the matter rested. Callie was unusually silent all the way home. It was evident that she had been profoundly affected by the change that the Tower Mansion mystery had caused in the lives of the Robinsons. Naturally sympathetic and tenderhearted, she felt keenly the injustice of it all, and she realized even more than Frank what it had meant to Mrs. Robinson and the girls to move from their comfortable home in the Mansion to the squalid and distant part of the city in which they now lived.
Callie lived but a few blocks away from the Hardy home, and Frank accompanied her to the gate.
“Mercy!” she exclaimed, glancing at her watch, “it’s after six. I’m away late for supper.”
“So am I. See you tomorrow.”
“Surely. But, Frank—”
“Yes?”
Callie hesitated, then looked directly into his eyes. “Frank,” she said, “if your father, somehow, doesn’t clear up this affair, you and Joe simply must do it! You must! For the Robinsons. It means so much to them.”
“Dad won’t fall down on it. Don’t worry. And Joe and I are giving all the help we can.”
His confidence was contagious. Callie brightened up immediately.
“In that case,” she said, gaily, “the mystery is as good as solved. The three best detectives in the world are working on it. Goodbye, Frank.”
With that she ran lightly into the house.
XIV
Red Jackley
It was another week before Fenton Hardy returned to Bayport.
Contrary to the expectations of the boys, he did not arrive from New York. Instead, he came home early one morning, having reached the city by a train from the west. He had sent no advance notice of his arrival, and the first his sons knew of it was when a servant told them that their father had reached the house
