“Poor old chap!” said the boys sympathetically.
“He evidently had some money on his person when he disappeared, because he hasn’t been in want, and the reason it was so hard to follow him was because he didn’t stay in any one town more than a day or so. Just long enough to know that it wasn’t his own town and that he could learn nothing about himself there. Then he would go on to the next place. But he’ll turn up, I’m sure. I have a number of places being watched, where he’s likely to put in an appearance some time, and I’ll be notified at once.”
“In the meantime,” promised Frank, “we’ll keep our eyes peeled for him. But we’ll not be able to help much for a couple of weeks yet.”
“Why?”
“We’re going on a motorbike jaunt down the coast to look over some caves.”
“Hidden treasure?” asked their father, his eyes twinkling.
“Perhaps.”
“I hope you make a million,” laughed Mr. Hardy. “I’ll try to find Todham Todd before you come back.”
VI
The Missing Motorcycle
“I wish I were a boy,” sighed Callie Shaw.
Iola Morton looked up from her ice-cream soda.
“Me, too.”
“It’s tough luck that you’re not,” said Joe Hardy. “We’d like to have you along on the trip with us.”
“Boys have all the luck. Girls have to stay at home.”
The Hardy boys, Chet Morton, and Biff Hooper were celebrating their departure by treating Callie Shaw and Iola Morton—and incidentally, themselves—to ice-cream at the Bon Ton Confectionery Shop. Iola, a plump, dark girl, was Chet’s sister, and fully as fun-loving as her brother. Of all the girls at Bayport High she was the special favorite of Joe, as Callie Shaw, brown-haired and brown-eyed, was above all other girls in Frank’s opinion.
“This one is my treat,” Joe announced. “Another soda won’t hurt anyone.”
It was a warm afternoon and the others promptly accepted. Six tall, frosted glasses of soda, pink and white and orange in color were placed before them and imbibed with many gurgles of satisfaction.
“Well, sis,” remarked Chet, “I don’t know but that I’d trade places with you.”
“Yes, you would!” said Iola ironically. “You wouldn’t give up that trip for a million dollars.”
“I’ve just been thinking that you’re lucky to be staying in town. You’ll be able to have ice-cream sodas and we shan’t.”
“That’s true, too,” said Joe reflectively. He was very fond of sodas, and he had not considered the matter in this light before.
“Yes, but think of all the fun you’ll have. And if you find any treasure in those caves you’ll be able to eat ice-cream sodas for the rest of your lives.”
“Our lives wouldn’t last very long if we did nothing but eat sodas after we came back,” laughed Frank. “How about another?”
The girls shook their heads. Chet groaned.
“This is my fifth today,” he said. “I could take another but I wouldn’t have any room left for supper. Guess we’d better quit.”
“We’d better,” agreed Biff. “If you’re sick tomorrow morning we’ll start without you.”
The thought of this possibility drove all desire for another ice-cream soda from Chet Morton’s mind and the boys and girls left the Bon Ton. As they would not be seeing one another again before the start of the trip, Callie and Iola said goodbye to Biff and the Hardy boys.
“We’ll miss you,” Callie assured them. “The town won’t seem the same without you.”
“It won’t be, either,” grinned Chet. “It’ll be a lot quieter when we clear out.”
“Our house will be quieter, at any rate,” Iola agreed. “It’ll be a relief when you’re gone, Chet.”
“That’s a sister for you! Frank, you and Joe are lucky. You have no sisters.”
“I don’t know about that,” replied Frank. “If we had sisters like Callie and Iola we wouldn’t have any kick.”
Chet and his sister, in spite of all their good-natured banter, got along very well together. So, with much laughter and good wishes, the friends parted, and the Hardy boys went home to finish their packing.
Next morning found the four boys bowling along a country road leading out of Bayport, on the first stage of their journey to the caves on the coast. Greatly to their disappointment, Tony Prito had been unable to come with them, as his father needed him. Biff Hooper and Chet rode together. Frank and Joe, of course, had each his own motorcycle.
It was an ideal summer morning, cool and bright. The boys carried their blankets and cooking utensils, but they had agreed it would be best not to carry too many provisions, as food could be purchased along the way as it was needed.
“This won’t be our first experience searching through caves,” called out Frank, who was in the lead of the little procession.
“It will be old stuff to you chaps,” answered Biff. “I sure wish I had been with you when you were going through the caves below the Shore Road.”
He referred to the experience of the Hardy boys when they were in search of the automobiles that thieves had hidden in secret caves beneath the cliffs along the Shore Road above Barmet Bay.
“By the way,” said Chet, “did you know that one of that gang of rascals escaped from jail the other day?”
This was news to the others. When the Hardy boys discovered the stolen cars they also aided in the roundup of the gang of automobile thieves, some of whom had been sentenced to long terms of imprisonment. Others, who had been merely tools of the ringleaders of the outfit, were given lighter sentences in the local jail.
“Who was that?” asked Joe.
“Carl Schaum. He made a getaway the day before yesterday. The police were keeping quiet about it
