“It’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of,” declared his brother. “What would we rob the mail for?”
“Gee, Frank, this will give us a black eye all right.”
“Don’t I know it? But I don’t think our real friends will believe a word of it.”
“Just wait till the newspapers come out. They won’t do a thing but spill it all over the front page!”
“That’s the worst of it. It will make mother feel pretty bad.”
“Yes, and when Aunt Gertrude hears of it she’ll say ‘I told you so.’ ”
“It’s a blamed shame, that’s what it is. I’d like to get back at the Chief for this.”
“So would I.”
This development caused a sensation in Bayport. When the afternoon papers came out with headlines, “Noted Detective’s Sons Held For Air Mail Theft,” friends of the boys and of Fenton Hardy could scarcely believe the news. On every hand people said, “There must be some mistake. The Hardy boys would never do a thing like that.” Scarcely anyone outside the police department could be found who actually believed the lads were guilty.
Nevertheless, this did not make the situation any easier for Frank and Joe Hardy. They were in jail, and the prospect of release seemed remote, because bail had been set in the heavy sum of fifty thousand dollars.
Fenton Hardy was not at all rich, and although he would have placed his entire fortune at the disposal of his sons, he was finding it difficult, if not impossible, to raise the big sum required for bail. He called on the boys late that afternoon and visited them in their cell, ruefully confessing that he had been unable to raise the money.
“I’m sorry, boys,” he said. “I hate to see you stay here in jail, particularly when I’m sure you’re innocent. But you won’t be here long. I’ll do my best to borrow the money tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about us, Dad,” urged Frank. “Fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money.”
“Mighty slim evidence they’re holding us on,” complained Joe. “If they would only bring us to trial right away, we’d be acquitted sure.”
Just then they heard a disturbance in the corridor. Two men were arguing with one of the guards.
“But I tell you, we must see them right away!” demanded a familiar voice. “It’s an outrage! A scandal!”
“You’ve got to have a permit from the chief,” expostulated the guard.
“Permit! Bah! Here’s your permit! Now can we get past?”
“Hurd Applegate!” exclaimed Frank, in astonishment.
Two elderly men came hastening down the corridor toward the cell, a guard following close behind. One of them was indeed Hurd Applegate, the wealthy and eccentric man whose family treasure had been recovered by the Hardy boys, as related in the first volume of this series; The Tower Treasure. The other man was none other than Elroy Jefferson, the owner of Cabin Island.
“This,” declared Elroy Jefferson, standing in front of the cell and brandishing a newspaper, “is a shame! Nothing less than a shame!”
“A scandal!” fumed Hurd Applegate.
“A shame and a scandal!”
“You’re right, Elroy!” declared Mr. Applegate. “It is a shame and a scandal. I never heard of anything so disgraceful. The Hardy boys in jail! Impossible! And bail set at fifty thousand dollars! An outrage!”
“Idiotic!” raged Mr. Jefferson. He bowed to Mr. Hardy. “How do you do, Mr. Hardy. Mr. Applegate and I were just talking about our stamp collections when the boy came with the afternoon paper. We read it. We saw the headlines. ‘Hardy Boys in Jail.’ And at once I said: ‘This is an outrage!’ ”
“You did, Elroy,” affirmed Hurd Applegate. “And I said: ‘This is a scandal.’ ”
“Yes, Hurd, you said it was a scandal. And it is a scandal. So we put on our hats and came down here immediately.”
“It’s mighty good of you to visit us. You are—” began Frank, when Elroy Jefferson interrupted him impatiently.
“Good of us to visit you!” he stormed. “Do you think we came down here just to visit you? Do you think we’re going to let the Hardy boys stay in jail? Are we going to let them stay in jail, Hurd?”
“We are not!” said Mr. Applegate firmly.
Elroy Jefferson drew two slips of paper from his pocket.
“When we read in the paper that bail had been set in the outrageous amount of fifty thousand dollars, what did I do, Hurd?”
“You wrote a check,” said Mr. Applegate.
“I wrote a check. For twenty-five thousand dollars. And what did you do, Hurd?”
“I wrote one too. I insisted on it.”
“You insisted on it. You wouldn’t let me go bail for the boys myself. The sentiment does you credit, Hurd, but I would gladly have gone bail for the full amount.”
Frank and Joe sprang to their feet.
“We can’t let you do that!” exclaimed Frank. “That is awfully good of you—”
“Good of us!” snorted Mr. Jefferson. “Do you hear that, Hurd? They say it’s good of us. After what they’ve done for us!”
“It’s a pleasure,” declared Hurd Applegate.
“And now,” concluded Mr. Jefferson grandly, “if you will come with us we’ll go upstairs and turn over these checks as bail. The idea! The Hardy boys in jail! Most senseless thing I ever heard of! Why didn’t you call me up on the telephone? I would have been down here inside five minutes.”
“Me too,” chimed in Hurd Applegate. “I would have made it in three minutes, because I live closer.”
“Come along,” said Elroy Jefferson. “Let’s all get out of here.”
The two old gentlemen, fuming, led the way down the corridor, Elroy Jefferson waving the two checks that were to gain the Hardy boys their release.
XV
On the Trail of Ollie Jacobs
Thanks to the generosity of Elroy Jefferson and Hurd Applegate, the Hardy boys were quickly released on bail. The two old stamp collectors scoffed when the lads sought to thank them.
“We’re not giving away fifty thousand dollars,” declared Hurd Applegate. “We know you won’t run away. And we know that when your case comes to trial you’ll be able
