In the first room they found nothing, although they rummaged about in all the corners, looked beneath the table, behind the chairs—looked everywhere, in fact. Not until they were quite satisfied that the loot had not been hidden there, did they ascend the stairs to the next room, and there again their search was fruitless.
Hurd Applegate, being a quick-tempered man, fell back into his old mood. The boys’ story had convinced him, and he had been even more certain than they that the stolen bonds and jewels would indeed be found in the new tower. But when two of the tower rooms had been thoroughly searched without success, his disappointment increased.
“Don’t believe there was anything in that yarn, after all,” he muttered, as they went up the stairs to the third room.
“I don’t see why he should lie about it, after he confessed,” remarked Frank thoughtfully. “Dad told us that he admitted not being able to get away with the stuff.”
“Then where did he hide it?” demanded Applegate. “If he wasn’t lying, the stuff must be around here some place.”
“Perhaps he hid it a little more carefully than we imagine,” put in Joe.
“Haven’t we hunted carefully enough?” Hurd Applegate snapped.
In the third room their search was again in vain. They even inspected the window ledges and tapped the floors and ceiling in the faint hope of finding some secret cupboard that was unknown to them.
But the loot was not found.
When at last they emerged through the trapdoor in the roof, out on top of the rear tower, and found it to be bare and empty, Applegate could not disguise his chagrin.
“Wild-goose chase!” he snorted. “Adelia was right. I’ve been made a fool of.”
“You don’t think we would make up a story like that, do you, Mr. Applegate?” Frank asked.
“I don’t see any reason why you should. But there’s something wrong somewhere. I’ve wasted half a morning poking around through this confounded tower—all for nothing.”
“So have we.”
“If that fellow did hide the stuff in one of the towers, someone else must have come along and got it. That’s the only way I can figure it out. He had someone working with him. Or else Robinson found the stuff—That’s more likely! Probably Robinson found the loot right after the robbery and kept it for himself.”
“I don’t think he would do that. He isn’t that kind of man,” Joe objected.
“With all that money in front of him? I wouldn’t put it past him for a minute. Where did he get that nine hundred dollars, then? Explain that. He can’t. He won’t tell.”
As they descended the stairs and went back into the main part of the mansion, Hurd Applegate elaborated on this theory. The fact that the loot had not been found in the face of Red Jackley’s story, seemed to strengthen his conviction that Robinson had something to do with the affair.
“Either Robinson found the stuff and kept it, or else he was in league with Jackley!” said Applegate. “He’s mixed up in it some way. I’m sure of that.”
The boys could say nothing. They realized that the theory was probable, although in their hearts they found it hard to believe that their chum’s father could have had anything to do with the theft. They were deeply puzzled and tremendously disappointed, for they had been practically certain that the loot would be found. Now they saw that the only consequence of the whole affair was to involve Mr. Robinson more deeply than ever in the mystery.
Back in the hallway they endured the taunts of Adelia Applegate, who cackled jubilantly when she saw that the searching party had returned empty-handed.
“There now!” she crowed. “Who’s right now? Didn’t I tell you it was all nonsense? Hurd Applegate, you’ve simply been made a fool of by these two boys.”
“Now, Adelia, I think they meant well—”
“Meant well! Of course they meant well! And what did it gain you? They have prowled through the place all morning and all the good that’s come of it is that perhaps you won’t be so ready to believe the next cock-and-bull story someone tells you. Go back to your stamps, Hurd Applegate, and let it be a lesson to you. As for you boys, you should be ashamed of yourselves, disturbing folks like this!”
Whereupon she escorted the Hardy boys to the door, while Hurd Applegate, muttering sadly, went back to his study with a puzzled air.
XIX
The Mystery Deepens
Fenton Hardy was dumbfounded when his sons returned to him with the news that the loot had been found in neither the old tower nor the new. So implicitly had he believed in the dying confession of Red Jackley that he had not even bothered to join in the search, preferring to let his sons have the satisfaction of recovering the stolen goods that he was positive were hidden in the old tower.
“And you’re sure you searched the place thoroughly?” he asked, for the third time.
“Every inch of it. There was nothing in the old tower. No one had been there in weeks,” answered Frank.
“How could you tell?”
“By the dust. It hadn’t been disturbed. There wasn’t a footprint of any kind.”
“But you searched anyway.”
“We went through the tower from top to bottom,” Frank replied. “It wasn’t any use. No one had been there. So then we thought Jackley might have been mistaken and that he had left the stuff in the other tower.”
“And Applegate let you search that as well?” and Fenton Hardy’s eyes twinkled.
“Not until we had told him our reasons. We told him about Jackley, and then he became enthusiastic and even helped us in the search. But we didn’t find anything.”
“Strange,” muttered the detective. “I know Jackley wasn’t lying. He
