'What's the matter?' asked Chet from the top of the stairway.
'Looks as if we're locked in,' Frank told him.
'Locked in?' Chet wailed. 'Oh, no!'
Frank tried pulling and pushing the door. It did not budge.
'That's funny,' he said. 'I didn't see any lock on the outside.'
Suddenly the full import of the situation dawned on the four boys. Someone had deliberately locked them
in! The cries for help had been a hoax to lure them into the house!
'You think somebody was playing a joke on us?' Biff asked.
'Pretty rotten kind of joke,' Chet sputtered.
Frank and Joe were inclined to think that there was more to it than a joke. Someone had seen a chance
to steal a valuable telescope and two late-model motorcycles!
'We've got to get out of here!' Joe said. 'Frank, put your shoulder to the door and I'll help.'
Fortunately, the door was not particularly sturdy and gave way easily. Frank glanced back a moment as
he rushed through and saw two large hooks which he had not noticed before. They had evidently been
slipped into the eyes and had been ripped from the framework by the crash on the door.
The other boys followed, running pell-mell through the hallway and clattering down the stairway. They
dashed out the front door, leaving it open behind them. To their relief, the telescope still stood at the edge
of the cliff, pointing seaward.
'Thank goodness!' said Joe. 'I'd hate to have had to tell Dad the telescope was gone!'
Frank rushed over to take a quick look through the instrument. It had occurred to him that maybe some
confederate of the smugglers had seen them spying. He might even have tricked them into the house
during the very time that a smuggling operation would be within range of the telescope!
When Frank reached the edge of the cliff and tried to look through the instrument, he gasped in dismay.
The eyepieces from both the finder and the telescope tube had been removed!
As he turned to tell the other boys of his discovery, he found that they were not behind him. But a
moment later Joe came running around the corner of the house calling out:
'The motorcycles are safe! Nobody stole them!'
'Thank goodness for that,' said Frank.
Chet and Biff joined them and all flopped down on the grass to discuss the mysterious happenings and
work out a plan of action.
'If that thief is hiding inside the house, I'm going to find him,' Joe declared finally.
'I'm with you,' said Frank, jumping up. 'How about you, Biff, guarding the motorcycles and Chet taking
charge of the telescope? That way, both the front and back doors will be covered, too, in case that thief
comes out.'
'Okay,' the Hardys' friends agreed.
As Frank and Joe entered the front hall, Joe remarked, 'There's a back stairway. If we don't find the
person on the first floor, I'll take that to the second. You take the front.'
Frank nodded and the search began. Not only the first, but the second and attic floors were thoroughly
investigated without results.
'There's only one place left,' said Frank. 'The cellar.'
This area also proved to have no one hiding in it. 'I guess our thief got away,' Frank stated.
'And probably on foot,' Joe added. 'I didn't hear any car, did you?'
'No. Maybe he went down the cliff and made a getaway in a boat,' Frank suggested.
In complete disgust the Hardys reported their failure to Biff and Chet. Then they packed up the telescope
and strapped it onto Frank's motorcycle.
'We may as well go home,' Joe said dolefully. 'We'll have a pretty slim report for Dad.'
'Slim?' said Biff. 'I haven't had so much excitement in six months.'
The boys climbed aboard the motorcycles. As the Hardys were about to start the motors, all four of
them froze in the seats. From somewhere below the cliff came a demoniacal laugh. Involuntarily the boys
shuddered.
'L-let's get out of here!' Chet urged.
Frank and Joe had hopped off the motorcycles, and were racing in the direction from which the eerie
laughter was coming.
'It may be another trap!' Chet yelled after them. 'Come back!'
But the Hardys went on. Just before they reached the edge of the cliff they were thunderstruck to hear
the laughter coming from a completely different area. It was actually in back of them!
'What gives?' Joe asked.
'Search me,' his brother answered. 'The ghost must have a confederate.'
The brothers peered over the edge of the cliff but could see only jagged rocks that led to the booming
surf below. Frank and Joe returned to then, chums, disappointed that they had learned nothing and had
no explanation for the second laugh.
'I'm glad it stopped, anyhow,' said Chet. 'It gave me goose pimples and made chills run up and down
my spine.'
Biff looked at his wrist watch. 'I really have to be getting home, fellows. Sorry to break up this man hunt.
Maybe you can take me to a bus and come back.'
The Hardys would not hear of this and said they would leave at once.
They had gone scarcely a mile when the motor on Frank's cycle sputtered and backfired, then died. 'A
swell time for a breakdown,' he said disgustedly as he honked for Joe to stop.
Joe turned around and drove back. 'What's the matter?'
'Don't know.' Frank dismounted. 'It's not the gas. I have plenty of that.'
'Tough luck!' Joe said sympathetically. 'Well, let's take a look at the motor. Better get out your tools.'
As Frank opened the toolbox of his motorcycle, an expression of bewilderment came over his face.
'My tools!' he exclaimed. 'They're gone!'
The others gathered around. The toolbox was indeed empty!
'Are you sure you had them when you left Bayport?' Chet asked.
'Of course I did. I never go anywhere without them.'
Biff shook his head. 'I suppose the guy who took the eyepieces stole your tools too.'
Joe dashed to the toolbox on his own motorcycle and gave a cry of dismay.
'Mine are gone, too!'
CHAPTER III
Landslide!
'THAT'S a shame, fellows,' Chet Morton said. 'This is sure your day for bad luck. First the eyepieces
from your telescope are taken and now the tools from your motorcycles.'
'And all by the same person, I'm sure,' Frank remarked grimly.
'Some slick operator, whoever he is,' Joe added gloomily.
Chet put his hands into his trouser pockets and with a grin pulled out a pair of pliers, a screw driver, and
a wrench.
'I was working on the Queen this morning,' he explained. 'Good thing I happened to put these in my
pocket.'
'I'll say,' Frank declared gratefully, taking the tools which Chet handed over.
He unfastened the housing of the motor and began checking every inch of the machinery. Finally he
looked up and announced, 'I guess I've found the trouble-a loose connection.'
