had recognized Callie Shaw, who was in his class at Bayport High. Frank
often dated Callie and liked her better than any girl he knew.
The boys brought their motorcycles to a stop beside pretty, brown-eyed
Callie. Under one arm she was carrying a slightly battered package. She
looked vexed.
'Hi, Callie! What's the matter?' Frank asked. 'You look as if your last
friend had gone off in a moon rocket.'
Callie gave a mischievous smile. 'How could I think that with you three
friends showing up? Or are you about to take off?' Then her smile faded and
she held out the damaged package. 'Look at that!' she exclaimed. 'It's your
fault, Chet Morton!'
The stout boy gulped. 'M-my fault? How do you figure that?'
'Well, dear old Mrs. Wills down the road is ill, so I baked her a cake.'
'Lucky Mrs. Wills,' Joe broke in. 'Callie, I'm feeling terribly ill.'
Callie ignored him. 'That man in the car came along here so fast that I
jumped to the side of the road and dropped my package. I'm afraid my cake
is ruined!'
'What man?' Joe asked.
'The one Chet lent his car to.'
'Callie, that's the man we're looking for!' Frank exclaimed. 'Chet didn't
lend him the car. He stole it!'
'Oh!' said Callie, shocked. 'Chet, that's a shame.'
'Was he heading for Bayport?' Joe asked.
'Yes, and at the speed he was making the poor Queen travel, you'll never
catch him.'
Chet groaned. 'I just remembered that the gas gauge wasn't working. I
guess the car had more gas in it than I thought. No telling where that guy
may take my Queen.'
'We'd better go to police headquarters,' Frank suggested. 'Callie, will you
describe this man?'
'All I saw,' she answered, 'was a blur, but the man did have red hair.'
'Red hair!' Frank fairly shouted. 'Joe, do you think he could be the same
man we saw? The one who wrecked his own car?'
Joe wagged his head. 'Miracles do happen. Maybe he wasn't hurt very much
and walked to Chet's house.'
'And helped himself to my car!' Chet added.
Frank snapped his fingers. 'Say! Maybe the wrecked car didn't belong to
that fellow-'
'You mean he'd stolen it, too!' Joe interrupted.
'Yes-which would make him even more desperate to get away.'
'Whatever are you boys talking about?' Callie asked.
'I'll phone you tonight and tell you,' Frank promised. 'Got to dash now.'
The boys waved good-by to Callie and hurried into town. They went at once
to Chief Ezra Collig, head of the Bayport police force. He was a tall, husky
man, well known to Fenton Hardy and his two sons. The chief had often
turned to the private detective for help in solving particularly difficult cases.
When the boys went into his office they found the police chief talking with
three excited men. One of these was Ike Harrity, the old ticket seller at the
city ferryboat office. Another was Policeman Con Riley. The third was Oscar
Smuff, a short, stout man. He was invariably seen wearing a checkered suit
and a soft felt hat. He called himself a private detective and was working
hard to earn a place on the Bayport police force.
'Smuff's playing up to Collig again,' Joe whispered, chuckling, as the boys
waited for the chief to speak to them.
Ike Harrity was frankly frightened. He was a timid man, who had perched on
a high stool behind the ticket window at the ferryboat office day in and day
out for a good many years.
'I was just countin' up the mornin's receipts,' he was saying in a
high-pitched, excited voice, 'when in comes this fellow and sticks a revolver
in front of my nose.'
'Just a minute,' interrupted Chief Collig, turning to the newcomers. 'What
can I do for you boys?'
'I came to report a theft,' Chet spoke up. 'My hot rod has been stolen.'
'Why, it was one of those crazy hot rods this fellow drove!' Ike Harrity cried
out. 'A yellow one!'
'Ha!' exclaimed Oscar Smuff. 'A clue!' He immediately pulled a pencil and
notebook from his pocket.
'My Queen!' shouted Chet.
Chief Collig rapped on his desk for quiet and asked, 'What's a queen got to
do with all this?'
Chet explained, then the chief related Harrity's story for him.
'A man drove up to the ferryboat office and tried to hold up Mr. Harrity. But
a passenger came into the office and the fellow ran away.'
As the officer paused, Frank gave Chief Collig a brief account of the wrecked
blue sedan near the Morton farm.
'I'll send some men out there right now.' The chief pressed a buzzer and
quickly relayed his orders.
'It certainly looks,' Joe commented, 'as if the man who stole Chet's car and
the fellow who tried to hold up the ferryboat office are the same person!'
'Did you notice the color of the man's hair?' Frank asked Mr. Harrity.
Smuff interrupted. 'What's that got to do with it?'
'It may have a great deal to do with it,' Frank replied. 'What was the color
of his hair, Mr. Harrity?'
'Dark brown and short cropped.'
Frank and Joe looked at each other, perplexed. 'You're sure it wasn't red?'
Joe asked.
Chief Collig sat forward in his chair. 'What are you driving at, boys? Have
you some information about this man?'
'We were told,' said Joe, 'that the guy who stole Chet's car had red hair. A
friend of ours saw him.'
'Then he must have turned the jalopy over to someone else,' Chief Collig
concluded.
At this moment a short, nervous little man was ushered into the room. He was
the passenger who had gone into the ferryboat office at the time of the
attempted holdup. Chief Collig had sent for him.
The newcomer introduced himself as Henry J. Brown of New York. He told
of entering the office and seeing a man run away from the ticket window with
a revolver in his hand.
'What color was his hair?' Frank asked eagerly. 'Did you notice?'
