“I’m not asking for myself. But our friend here is wanted back in Bayport. Perhaps you could take him in.”
Mr. Simms looked doubtfully at Carl Schaum.
“Well,” he said slowly, “if he’s a friend of yours, I suppose it’s all right—”
He had noticed that Schaum’s wrists were tied.
Frank laughed.
“I was just joking. This is one of the fellows who stole your car last month. Carl Schaum—”
“Oh! The thief that escaped, eh?”
“Yes. We ran across him down along the shore, and we were anxious to turn him over to the police again.”
“Put him in the car,” said Simms grimly. “I’ll put the rascal where he belongs.”
Rejoiced at having the prisoner taken off their hands so readily, the Hardy boys bundled Schaum into the rear seat of the automobile. They apologized to Mr. Simms for troubling him, but the man assured them that it was no trouble at all.
“It’s a pleasure,” he said. “I’ll see that he doesn’t get away.” He glared at Carl Schaum. “So you’re one of the scoundrels who stole my car, are you? And you thought you were going to escape a term in jail! You’ll have to be mighty smart to do it then, for I’m going to break a few speed records getting you back to Bayport. I’m going to enjoy this trip.”
He waved goodbye to the Hardy boys.
“I don’t know how you caught him,” he said; “but I’ll tell the Bayport police to give you the credit. I’m certainly glad I came along in time to drive this guy back to jail, where he belongs.”
With that, he drove off and in a few minutes he was carrying out his promise to break speed records on the way back to Bayport, while the helpless prisoner in the back seat was jounced and bounced until his teeth rattled.
Frank and Joe grinned.
“I guess Carl Schaum won’t forget that ride for a while.”
“Serves the rogue right!” declared the fisherman.
“Well, let’s be getting back,” said Frank. “The morning is almost gone and we haven’t called on Captain Royal yet.”
XIX
Clippings
Their friend, the fisherman, was greatly interested in the Hardy boys’ adventure with Carl Schaum and wanted to know all the details of the affair. Frank and Joe told him why they had captured Schaum, and also told him of the Shore Road automobile thefts, although they modestly omitted any mention of their own part in bringing the car thieves to justice.
When they arrived back at the cottage the fisherman was anxious that they go in and continue the chat, but the Hardy boys wanted to return to the caves.
“Some other time,” they promised.
“Well,” said the fisherman reluctantly, “if you won’t come in, I suppose you won’t; but you must come back and see me before you leave these parts. You’re smart lads, cotchin’ that jailbird, and I’m sure he’s the fellow that’s been performin’ all the monkeyshines down around Honeycomb Caves.”
Frank and Joe said nothing. It occurred to them that possibly the fisher folk did not know of Captain Royal’s presence in the vicinity and they preferred to keep the secret to themselves.
“Yes,” said the man, wagging his head, “I guess he was the chap, all right, even if you don’t seem to think so.”
“He was a thief, at any rate,” said Joe.
“He stole your grub, you was sayin’. If you need more, you’re welcome to anything I’ve got here. It ain’t much, but your more’n welcome,” said their hospitable friend.
The boys thanked him, but assured him that Carl Schaum had been forced to divulge the hiding place of the provisions. With great glee they told how they had frightened him into telling.
“We’re all set for a few days’ stay now,” said Frank. “I guess we won’t be bothered any more.”
The boys parted from the fisherman and ascended the path up the hillside again. Up over the rocks, along the cliff edge until they came to the ravine, down the steep slope, and after an arduous hour they were again at their cave.
Chet and Biff were nowhere to be seen, so the Hardy boys assumed that they were still fishing.
“When we tell them all the adventures we’ve had, they’ll be as mad as hops,” laughed Frank.
“We’ve sure covered a lot of territory since they last saw us.”
“And the day isn’t over yet. We still have Captain Royal to attend to.”
It was still damp and foggy as they went on down the beach, and although it was midday the mist hung so heavily over the sea that they could see only a short distance ahead. It was almost as dark as at dusk.
“I believe the fog is growing worse,” remarked Frank.
“It certainly seems worse since we’ve got down on the shore again.”
“I hope Chet and Biff don’t get lost.”
“Not much danger of getting lost around here. It’s pretty hard to get far from the ocean, and once you’re on the beach you just have to keep walking until you find the caves.”
The boys came to the place where they had spied Carl Schaum unconscious.
“Let’s see if he was telling us the truth about that cave of his,” Joe suggested. “We might as well make sure that our provisions are safe.”
“There’s a cave here, all right. Look, I can see it over by those big boulders.”
“So there is. Queer that we didn’t notice it before. The rocks hide it from view unless you stand right in front of it.”
“Trust Carl to pick a good hiding place. If he hadn’t made the mistake of wandering beyond his own front door, he might be a free man yet.”
“It isn’t the first time that a thief has made one fatal mistake.”
The boys approached the entrance of the cave. It was, as Joe had pointed out, almost invisible from the beach, unless one happened to look up when standing directly in front of the opening, because a number of huge boulders obscured it.
Inside, they found unmistakable evidences of human habitation.
“There are our provisions!”
