Mr. Hardy explained. 'Somewhere on the West Coast is the ringleader who assigns each 'team'
to rob a local bank in a different part of the country. The scheme is very well organized.'
The boys went to bed, hoping to be disturbed by a call from the police, telling them good news, but none came. In the morning Joe called headquarters, then relayed a disappointing report to
his family. 'The police didn't find Chet and Biff, but they picked up pieces of their costumes on piles of half- charred paper trash in different parts of Shantytown. Someone didn't know the
outfits were fireproof and tried to burn them.'
'Then our pals were taken there and later moved somewhere else,' Frank declared. 'But where?'
He and Joe were so upset they could hardly eat breakfast. The other Hardys, who also were
fond of Chet and Biff, were greatly sobered.
'Oh, I almost forgot something,' said Mrs. Hardy. 'A letter came for you boys in this morning's early
mail.' She handed Frank a plain white envelope. 'It's postmarked Northport, yesterday.'
Frank looked at it. 'The writing is familiar,' he remarked, 'but there's no return address.'
He tore open the envelope, took out a picture postcard, and scanned the message.
Frank's eyes widened. 'Listen to this!' he exclaimed. ' 'Having a wonderful time. Don't worry about us.'
And it's signed 'Chet and Biff'!'
The rest of the family stared in amazement.
Aunt Gertrude snorted indignantly. 'Having, a wonderful time, indeed! Everyone worried sick, police searching all over the map for them, and they're having a wonderful time!'
'But what a relief!' Mrs. Hardy said warmly. 'I'll call Mrs. Morton and-'
'Wait a minute,' Mr. Hardy cautioned. 'It may not really be from the boys.'
'This is Chet's handwriting,' Frank said. Joe had jumped from his chair to examine the card.
'Yes, it is,'
he affirmed. 'The picture is of Waterfront Street in Northport. Looks like an old card,' he added, passing it to his father.
'Why do you think it was mailed in an envelope?' Mrs. Hardy asked, puzzled.
'So no one would read the message until it got here,' suggested Joe.
'Why didn't they telephone?' Aunt Gertrude asked tartly. 'It's even quicker.'
'I think they would if they could, Auntie,' Frank replied. 'Chet and Biff know better than to worry everybody this way. They're prisoners!'
'Anyway, we know they're alive,' said his mother. 'That in itself is good news.'
'Will you call Mrs. Hooper and Mrs. Morton and tell them?' Frank requested his mother. She nodded.
'And I'll notify the police,' Mr. Hardy added. 'By the way, they looked for the thieves'
fingerprints on Chet's jalopy and your motorboat, but didn't find any.'
'I suppose the robbers wore gloves,' Frank remarked.
As Joe went back to his chair, he said, 'I think we ought to run up to Northport and see if we can trace this card.'
Mr. Hardy looked thoughtful. 'The bank robbers stole their getaway car in Northport.'
'And the fellow who tried to ram the Sleuth,' Frank added, 'may have come down from there after watching the regatta.'
'Don't forget,' said Joe, 'he's a pal of Sutton's.'
'Northport might provide clues to Chet and Biff, the bank robbery, and the Shantytown
trouble,' Frank concluded.
The boys finished their breakfast and rode to the Hardy boathouse. As Joe stepped into the
Sleuth, he kicked off his moccasins. The next moment he cried, 'Ouch-hey! Broken glass!' He lifted the floor rack.
'There's a whole mess of it in the bottom. Looks like a soda bottle.'
'That's funny,' said Frank. 'We didn't notice any yesterday.'
'That's because the glass was all hidden under the rack,' Joe pointed out. 'This piece was forced up between the slats overnight by the rocking of the boat.'
While he gingerly extracted a sliver of glass from his toe, Frank picked up the jagged fragments.
'These weren't here the day before the robbery,' he broke in excitedly. 'We took out the rack and emptied the boat completely. It's a clue, Joe! We'll put these pieces together at home.'
He found some cheesecloth in the dashboard compartment, gathered all the glass fragments
into it, and put the little bundle in his pocket. Joe, meanwhile, stuck a small bandage on his foot and put on his shoes.
After filling the tank with fuel, the boys headed for Northport. The motorboat streaked across the bay, with Frank at the wheel. Skillfully he throttled down a bit as his craft moved into the long, dark swells of the Atlantic.
Steadily the Sleuth plowed northward. Joe shaded his eyes with his hand as dots of land
appeared off the coast ahead. 'There are the islands where Chet and Biff wanted to camp,' he noted. 'Say! They're pretty isolated-and would be likely spots for hiding kidnap victims! We ought to search them if we don't find some clue to the boys in Northport.'
'I'll pass them as close as I can,' Frank offered. 'Maybe we'll see something.'
One by one the line of islets could be seen. Though the Hardys watched carefully, they saw only sand, pines, and huge stone formations. Some of the islands were surrounded by dangerous
half-submerged rocks.
'We're getting close to Jagged Reef,' Joe reminded his brother. 'Better take her out. Those rocky teeth can bite the bottom of a boat!'
Frank turned the Sleuth's prow seaward. As he revved up the engine, however, he was startled
by a shout from Joe.
'Hold it! There-submerged just off those rocks-' Joe pointed to a little island. 'It looks like the wreck of a motorboat!'
Immediately Frank throttled down and headed toward the spot. Finally he let the engine idle. 'I don't dare go any closer,' he said. 'Can you see her from here?'
'Only the outline,' reported Joe, who was standing up now with one foot on the gunwale.
'Looks as if she hit a rock close to shore and sank. She's a good size.'
'Those fragments on the rock look black,' Joe noticed. 'So does the outline. Say, do you suppose it's the boat that nearly hit us-the Black Cat?'
'We can find out,' Frank said promptly. 'Our underwater equipment is in the locker. Take the wheel. I want to get a look.'
Quickly Frank donned a face mask with a wide glass plate. Leaning over, he put his head in the water and strained to see the wreck more clearly.
Lifting his face, he exclaimed, 'It is black! I can't tell if it's the Black Cat at this distance. Keep her in close, Joe. Why are we drifting away?'
'Can't help it.' Desperately Joe yanked at the wheel. 'We're caught in the current!' he exclaimed frantically.
While the boys had been intent on the sunken hull, the swift, strong current had caught their
craft. The Sleuth was being rushed toward the deadly rocks of Jagged Reef!
CHAPTER IX
The Old Salt's Story
BUFFETED by the current, the Sleuth plunged out of control toward the line of white exploding
spray, where the sea's swell smacked against the barrier reef.
Joe bore down hard on the wheel as the churned-up waters, falling back from the rocks,
seethed underneath. The din of crashing waves was terrific, but above it could be heard the
powerful throb of the Sleuth's engine.
'If I could only turn her!' Joe thought.
