'Oh, I'm glad you're going to get your car back! Callie exclaimed.
'But I haven't got any money,' Chet groaned.
'Who's the man?' Frank demanded.
There was another long pause before Chet answered. Then, looking at the
waiting group before him, he announced simply, 'Smuff. Oscar Smuff !'
His listeners gasped in astonishment. This was the last thing they expected to
hear. The detective was selling information as to where Chet would find his
missing jalopy!
'Why, that cheap so-and-so!' Joe cried out angrily.
Chet explained that Smuff had said he was not in business for his health. He
had to make a living and any information which he dug up as a detective
should be properly paid for.
Frank shrugged. 'I suppose Smuff has a point there. How much does he want
for the information, Chet?'
'His fee is twenty-five dollars!'
'What!' the others cried out.
After a long consultation it was decided that the young people would pool
their resources. Whatever sum they could collect toward the twenty-five
dollars would be offered to Oscar Smuff to lead them to Chet's car.
'But make it very plain,' Frank admonished, 'that if it's not your jalopy
Smuff leads us to, you won't pay him one nickel.'
Chet put in a call to Smuff's home. As expected, the detective grumbled at the
offer of ten dollars but finally accepted it. He said he would pick up the boys
in half an hour and take them to the spot.
About this time Mr. and Mrs. Morton returned home. Chet and Iola's father
was a good-looking, jolly man with his son's same general build and coloring.
He was in the real-estate business in Bay-port and ran the farm as a hobby.
Mrs. Morton was an older edition of her daughter Iola and just as witty and
lighthearted. But when she learned what had transpired and that her son had
been threatened, she was worried.
'You boys must be very careful,' Mrs. Morton advised. 'From what I hear
about Smuff, this red-haired thief could easily put one over on him. So watch
your step!'
Chet promised that they would. 'Good luck!' Callie called out, as Smuff
beeped his horn outside the door. 'And don't be too late. I want to hear the
news before I have to go home.'
Frank, Joe, and Chet found Smuff entirely uncommunicative about where
they were going. He seemed to enjoy the role he was playing.
'I knew I'd be the one to break this case,' he boasted.
Joe could not resist the temptation of asking Smuff if he was going to lead
them to the thief as well as to the car. The detective flushed in
embarrassment and admitted that he did not have full details yet on this part
of the mystery.
'But it won't be long before I capture that fellow,' he assured the boys. They
managed to keep their faces straight and only hoped that they were not now
on a wild-goose chase.
Twenty minutes later Smuff pulled into the town of Ducksworth and drove
straight to a used-car lot. Stopping, he announced, 'Well, here we are. Get
ready to fork over that money, Chet.'
Smuff nodded to the attendant in charge, then led the boys down a long aisle
past row after row of cars to where several jalopies were lined up against a
rear fence. Turning left, the detective finally paused before a bright red car.
'Here you are!' said Smuff grandly, extending his right hand toward Chet.
'My money, please.'
The stout boy as well as the Hardys stared at the jalopy. There was no
question but that it was the same make and model as Chet's.
'The thief thought he could disguise it by painting it red,' Smuff explained.
'Is that your guess?' Frank asked quietly.
Oscar Smuff frowned. 'How else could you figure it?' he asked.
'Then there'll be yellow paint under the red,' Frank went on. 'Let's take a
look to make sure.'
It was evident that Smuff did not like this procedure. 'So you doubt me, eh?'
he asked in an unpleasant tone.
'Anybody can get fooled,' Frank told him. 'Well, Chet, let's operate on this
car.'
The detective stood by sullenly as Frank pulled out a penknife and began to
scrape the red paint off part of the fender.
CHAPTER V
The Hunt Is Intensified
'HEY!' Oscar Smuff shouted. 'You be careful with that penknife! The man
who owns this place don't want you ruinin' his cars!'
Frank Hardy looked up at the detective. 'I've watched my father scrape off
flecks of paint many times. The way he does it, you wouldn't know anybody
had made a mark.'
Smuff grunted. 'But you're not your father. Easy there!'
As cautiously as possible Frank picked off flecks of the red paint in a spot
where it would hardly be noticeable. Taking a flashlight from his pocket, he
trained it on the spot.
Joe, leaning over his brother's shoulder, said, 'There was light-blue paint
under this red, not yellow.'
'Right,' Frank agreed, eying Smuff intently.
The detective reddened. 'You fellows trying to tell me this isn't Chefs
jalopy?' he demanded. 'Well, I'm telling you it is, and I'm right!'
'Oh, we haven't said you're wrong,' Joe spoke up quickly. Secretly he was
hoping that this was Chet's car, but reason told him it was not.
'We'll try another place,' Frank said, straightening up, and walking around
to a fender on the opposite side.
Here, too, the test indicated that the car had been painted light blue before
the red coat had been put over it.
'Well, maybe the thief put blue on and then red,' said Smuff stubbornly.
Frank grinned. 'We'll go a little deeper. If the owner of this establishment
objects, we'll pay for having the fenders painted.'
But though Frank went down through several layers of paint, he could not
find any sign of yellow.
All this time Chet had been walking round and round the car, looking intently
at it inside and out. Even before Frank announced that he was sure this was
not the missing jalopy, Chet was convinced of it himself.
