“Worrying about your presents?”
“I’d hate to miss them.”
“Maybe we could get them before we went.”
“In that case,” said Joe, relieved, “I wouldn’t care when we went to camp.”
“Well, think it over.” Biff made a vicious left swing at his imaginary sparring partner. “Be sure and let me know.”
Then he chased the invisible enemy down the road and was soon lost to sight around the bend.
“He’s going to miss one of those wild swings of his some day and knock himself out,” prophesied Joe. “I never did see a fellow so crazy about boxing.”
“He’s good at it. Still, that’s not a bad idea he has about camping during the Christmas holidays. We’ll talk it over with Chet.”
“Sure.”
The boys went on and in a short time they came to the Jefferson house. It was a large, gloomy mansion, set back some distance from the road, and when the boys went up the walk, which had been swept and shoveled clear of snow, it was with a quickening sense of anticipation.
They rang the bell.
“We’ll soon know what Mr. Jefferson wants to see us about,” said Frank.
The door opened.
The housekeeper, a prim, angular woman, regarded them silently for a moment.
“Mr. Jefferson asked us to call,” explained Frank.
“He is expecting you,” said the woman. “You will please come in.”
They stepped into a gloomy hall and the housekeeper ushered them toward a reception room.
“Please be good enough to wait,” she said stiffly. “Mr. Jefferson is engaged at present.”
Then she went away, her skirts swishing.
Frank and Joe Hardy sat uncomfortably on the extreme edges of their chairs and looked at the enormous family portraits on the walls. They could hear voices from a living room beyond. At first they could not distinguish anything that was being said—not that they listened—there being a mere hum of conversation, but suddenly one of the men in the next room raised his voice, sharply:
“I don’t see why you won’t sell, Mr. Jefferson! I offer a good price.”
It was evident that the speaker was angry and perturbed.
Then, in another voice, also raised, came the reply:
“The island is not for sale at any price, Mr. Hanleigh, and that settles it.”
This, presumably was Elroy Jefferson, the antique dealer. The other man expostulated.
“But you know very well I’m offering more money than—”
“I do not care to discuss it!” returned Mr. Jefferson. “The island is not for sale. That’s final! No! No! I don’t care to talk about it any more. You are only wasting your time. Good day to you, sir.”
V
Mr. Hanleigh
The Hardy boys heard the door of the living room open and saw two figures pass out into the hall. A moment later the front door closed with a bang. There were footsteps, and then a small, kindly, gray-haired gentleman stood in the entrance of the reception room.
Frank and Joe, in the meantime, were looking at one another in astonishment. They had recognized the voice of Mr. Jefferson’s caller, and they had recognized the man himself as he passed in the hall. It was none other than the man who had ordered them away from Cabin Island!
Elroy Jefferson was advancing toward them, his hand outstretched.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, boys. You are Fenton Hardy’s sons, I presume. Well, well. I’m glad to make your acquaintance. I didn’t mean to make you wait, but my caller seemed insistent.” He seemed rather disturbed and glanced back toward the door, shaking his head. “That fool can’t take no for an answer,” he muttered.
Then, smiling, he turned toward the boys again.
“I asked you to call here this morning because I wanted to thank you for getting my Pierce-Arrow back for me. I was traveling in Europe at the time and I didn’t know anything about the affair until I came back. I’m afraid you must have thought me very ungrateful.”
“Not at all, sir,” said the boys politely.
“Well, if I had been here at the time you may be sure I would have expressed my appreciation at once. However, better late than never. I was away when the Automobile Club passed the hat for that reward.”
Elroy Jefferson referred to a reward which had been subscribed by various owners of cars which the Hardy boys had recovered from the Shore Road thieves.
“That’s all right, sir,” said Frank. “We weren’t looking for any reward.”
“I know. I know. But you deserved one. And, if you will allow me, I should like to give you a reward of my own.”
With that, he produced a wallet from his pocket and withdrew two crisp, new bills which he handed to the boys. The lads glanced at the money with surprise, for Elroy Jefferson had handed each a hundred-dollar bill.
“Oh, we can’t take this, Mr. Jefferson,” protested Joe. “We’ve been very handsomely rewarded already, much more than we deserved—”
“I want you to take this money. My car was not insured and was worth a great deal more than that to me, and if it hadn’t been for you two boys I would have lost it.”
The boys protested, but Elroy Jefferson insisted, and finally they were forced to accept the reward.
“Now,” said Mr. Jefferson, “if there is anything else I can do for you at any time, don’t hesitate to ask me.”
The boys looked at one another.
“There is something we’d like to ask you,” hesitated Frank. “That is, if we’re not intruding—”
“What is it?” asked the antique dealer agreeably.
“It’s about the man who just left here.”
“Hanleigh? What about him?”
“If you don’t object to the question—does Mr. Hanleigh own Cabin Island?”
Mr. Jefferson shook his head.
“Certainly not. Why do you ask?”
Frank then told him about the adventure of the previous day, and related how Hanleigh had driven the three boys away from the island.
“We thought it was strange at the time, for we didn’t think that the island had changed hands. Then, when we recognized Mr. Hanleigh as the chap who ordered us away, we thought we’d ask you about
