They looked up. They knew that voice well.
“Amos Grice!” exclaimed Frank.
At the sound of his name, the man looked around. Then he recognized the refugees.
“Well, if it ain’t the Hardy boys!” he shouted in welcome. “And Chet and Biff!”
“You certainly did us a good turn that time,” declared Joe.
Amos Grice was soon shaking hands with them, asking a score of questions. How had they come to be out on the bay in the storm? Had they been at Cabin Island? Had they been frightened? How did the boat get half full of water? And so on and so forth. He was a kindly old man, this village storekeeper. He now led the way out of the boathouse.
“Come up to the store,” he said. “Come up and put on some dry clothes. You’re soaked to the hide, all of you. Come up and tell me how it happened.”
“Nothing much to tell, Mr. Grice,” explained Frank. “We were on Cabin Island this afternoon when we saw the storm coming up. We knew there was no chance of getting back to Bayport in time, so we thought we’d run over here, but the storm broke too suddenly for us.”
“It did break sudden,” admitted the storekeeper. “It broke sudden and fierce. I’ve never seen a worse storm in ten years.”
He took them up to the store, and in a warm kitchen at the back he bade them dry themselves by the fire while he hustled about and procured dry clothing. Amos Grice was a bachelor, and while his living quarters were crude, they were neat and comfortable. He was genuinely delighted to see the boys, and he soon busied himself at the stove preparing supper.
After a hearty meal the lads were feeling more comfortable and their hazardous adventure on the bay did not seem quite so perilous as they looked back on it.
“I guess we won’t be able to get back to the city tonight,” said Frank regretfully.
Amos Grice snorted.
“I wouldn’t hear of it!” he declared. “Couldn’t think of it! Just suicide to try it. No, sir, you lads have got to spend the night with me, and glad I am to have you. It’s seldom enough I have company here.”
“As long as you have room for us—”
“Of course I have room for you. There’s two big beds in the spare room, and you’re more than welcome.”
A bell occasionally tinkled out in the store, and Amos Grice bustled away to wait on a customer. However, there were few people in the little village and the night was so wild and stormy that nearly everyone was staying indoors, so the interruptions were few.
They chatted with the old man all that evening, sitting by the fire, and eventually he showed them to a big room where the beds were already made.
“Now,” he said, “sleep as long as you wish and I’ll have some breakfast for you in the morning. No doubt your parents is worryin’ about you, and I’d phone ’em if I could, to let ’em know you’re all safe and sound. But the telephone wires is down somewhere along the line. They’ll likely be fixed by morning.”
“Dad and mother will certainly be worrying about us,” said Joe.
“Can’t be helped,” returned Amos philosophically. “They’ll feel all the better when they know you’re safe.”
The boys were tired and they fell asleep quickly. In the morning when they awakened the sun was shining in the window. The storm was over. Out in the kitchen a fire crackled in the stove and they could hear Amos Grice moving about. There was a savory aroma of bacon and eggs and coffee.
“He’s certainly a good scout!” declared Chet, as they dressed.
“Can’t be beat,” agreed Biff.
When the boys were washed and dressed, they went out into the kitchen.
“Sleep well?” inquired Amos.
“You bet!”
“That’s good. Breakfast is ready. Pull your chairs up to the table and get on the outside of some bacon and eggs. There’s plenty, so don’t be afeared to ask for second helpin’s.”
“Is the telephone working, Mr. Grice?” asked Frank. “I’d like to call them up at home if I can.”
“Yep, the phone is workin’ again,” the storekeeper assured them. “I know, because I was callin’ the operator this morning. Big doin’s in Bayport last night.”
“What was that?” asked Joe, interested.
“Big robbery at the airport. One of them airplanes was robbed of a lot of mail worth more’n twenty thousand dollars, so the telephone operator was tellin’ me.”
The Hardy boys looked at one another in amazement. A second robbery at the airport! Impulsively, Frank exclaimed:
“Ducroy again!”
XII
Under Arrest
“What’s that?” demanded the storekeeper abruptly, in response to Frank Hardy’s inadvertent exclamation.
“Nothing,” answered Frank. “I was surprised—that’s all. You see, there was a robbery at the airport only a day or so ago.”
“Another one, eh? Well, they oughta watch that place more careful, that’s all I can say. People won’t be sendin’ their letters by airplane if they think they’re goin’ to be stolen all the time.”
“That’s a case for you fellows,” said Biff.
Neither Biff nor Chet were aware of the depth of the Hardy boy’s interest in the airport robberies.
“Did the operator tell you anything more about that affair, Mr. Grice?” asked Frank, after a pause.
“Nothin’ more than what I’ve told you. She just said there was a big robbery and twenty thousand dollars’ worth of mail had been stolen last night.”
Joe went to the telephone. After some delay he managed to get the Hardy home in Bayport on the wire. His mother’s voice answered.
“Hello, Mother! This is Joe talking.”
Her voice had an unmistakable note of relief as she answered:
“Joe! Oh, I’m so glad to hear your voice again. Your father and I have been greatly worried about you. Where are you? What happened? Why didn’t you come home last night?”
“Don’t worry, Mother. We were caught in the storm and we couldn’t get back. We’re quite safe. We’re at Mr. Grice’s place, down below Cabin Island.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear
