“We’re coming back today. Would you mind telephoning to Mrs. Morton and Mrs. Hooper? Tell them that Chet and Biff are with us and that they’re all right too.”
“I’ll do that, Joe. Just a minute. Your father wants to speak to you.”
Joe waited a moment. Then he heard his father’s voice.
“Hello, Son. You’ve given us a pretty bad scare.”
“We’re sorry, Dad, but we got caught in the storm.”
“Let me in on this, Joe,” begged Frank; and when Joe had put the telephone in his brother’s hand the older Hardy boy continued: “Hello, Dad! Worried you and mother, did we? Sorry. But we’re all right. Will tell you about it when we get back.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re all right. Now listen. I want you and Joe to come home at once.”
“Sure. We are just going to leave.”
“Come back to Bayport at once. Something has happened.”
“What’s wrong, Dad?”
“I’ll tell you when you reach here. But don’t lose any time.”
“Is it about the airport robbery?” asked Frank.
“How did you know there was a robbery at the airport?” demanded his father in an anxious tone.
“We heard it this morning through Mr. Grice.”
“Well, it’s connected with the robbery, but it’s a little worse than that. Come right home, mind now.”
“All right, Dad. We’ll leave right away.”
Frank hung up the receiver and turned to the others. He was puzzled.
“I guess we can’t hang around here this morning. Dad wants us back right away. He seems awfully anxious.”
“Anything wrong at home?” asked Joe quickly. “Mother didn’t say so.”
“Everything’s all right there, I guess. But Dad has something on his mind. He said he’d explain it when we got home.”
“Shucks!” grumbled Amos Grice. “And I counted on takin’ you lads out fishin’ this morning.”
“I guess we’ll have to call it off, Mr. Grice. Some other time, perhaps.”
Chet Morton sighed and ate another slice of bacon.
“I guess we’ll all catch it when we get home. Was your Dad sore, Frank?”
“No, he didn’t seem angry. I can’t imagine what’s wrong. Well, I guess we’ll have to bail out the boat right after breakfast and start for home.”
After they had eaten, Amos Grice helped them bail out the motorboat. It had stood the storm well, in spite of the terrific battering it had received. The old storekeeper was disappointed because his young guests could not remain with him longer, and when they thanked him heartily for his kindness he waved their gratitude aside.
“A pleasure,” he told them. “I’m always glad to see you. Any time you’re down this way, be sure and drop in.”
“We’ll pick better weather next time, Mr. Grice,” laughed Chet.
“In fair weather or foul, you’re always welcome.”
They got into the boat and started off. The storekeeper stood on the dock and waved to them as they departed. Then he turned and walked slowly up toward his store.
Joe came up and sat beside Frank, who was at the wheel.
“What do you think has happened, Frank?”
“I can’t imagine. It has something to do with the robbery last night, I’m sure.”
“But why should dad want us back right away?” Joe insisted.
Frank shrugged. “It beats me. Perhaps he has some work for us to do, helping him trace the thieves.”
“Maybe that’s it. I sure hope so.”
Frank was silent for a while. Then he said:
“I wonder if Giles Ducroy and his friends will have an alibi this time.”
“It will have to be a mighty good one. Just think of it! Two mail thefts in a row. Whoever did last night’s job must know the run of the airport pretty well.”
“Whoever committed the first robbery knew the lay of the land too. If we solve the first one we’ve solved them both.”
“We?” said Joe. “I don’t think we’ll have much chance to solve it. This is dad’s case. I’ll bet it won’t take him very long to clear it up, either.”
But, with all their conjectures, the Hardy boys had no suspicion of the real reason for their summons back to Bayport. Had they known what had caused that note of urgency and anxiety in their father’s voice, they would have been dumbfounded. A stunning surprise awaited them.
They passed Cabin Island and headed out of the cove into the open bay. The water was still rough from yesterday’s storm, but there was little wind. After a while the city came in sight far in the distance, shining in the sunlight, beneath a pall of smoke from the factory chimneys.
It was a few minutes before twelve o’clock when the boys finally arrived at Bayport and ran The Sleuth into the boathouse. To their surprise they saw that a man was lounging in the doorway. He was a big man, with a fat, stolid face, and he was chewing at an unlighted cigar, his thumbs in his vest pockets.
“Good mornin’, boys,” he rumbled.
They recognized him as Detective Smuff, of the Bayport police department, a worthy if unintelligent officer. Frank could not imagine why Smuff should be in the boathouse, apparently waiting for them, but he grinned amiably at the detective.
“Hello, Mr. Smuff! It is an unexpected surprise to find you here.”
Smuff nodded portentously. “It is?” he asked.
“Last person in the world we ever thought would come down to welcome us,” declared Chet. “I tell you, Mr. Smuff, we sure appreciate this. It isn’t often we have a reception committee on the job when we come back from a little outing.”
“Well,” said Smuff, “I’m on the job this time.” He turned to the Hardy boys. “I’ve been sent down here to give you a message as soon as you got in,” he informed them.
“A message!” exclaimed Joe. “Who from?”
“The chief. He wants to see you down at headquarters.”
The Hardy boys stared at the detective in amazement.
“The chief? Wants to see us?” ejaculated Frank.
“Yep.”
“What about?” demanded Joe.
Smuff looked very mysterious. “You’ll know all about it when you get there,” he said.
“You’re going to be pinched for staying out all night,” laughed Chet. “That’s a fine thing to do, Smuff—pinch our chums the minute
