Hardys popped to the surface, then disappeared under the dark water again.
'Harbor thieves!' came shouts from the deck. 'Get them!' The bell clanged on. There were two sudden bursts of light, accompanied by sharp explosions. Someone was shooting wildly!
Frank and Joe surfaced near the rope ladder and quickly untied the Sleuth. Swimming with
swift, silent
strokes they pushed their craft away from the schooner into the protecting darkness.
'Whew!' breathed Joe as he tumbled, panting, into the motorboat. 'They must have been on deck, watching.'
'Anyhow, I found out what we wanted to know,' Frank reported. 'That wasn't Chet, but a boy who looks a lot like him.'
'How do you know?'
'He tackled me. I said, 'Chet, it's Frank!' but he hung on tightly. That's when I yelled for you to go over the side.'
Joe started the motor and opened the throttle all the way. As the Sleuth gained power, the
prow lifted and the boat leaped forward. Safely away from the yacht, Joe switched on the
running lights. Along the shore, they could see a solitary light here and there. Presently the bright glow of beach fires told them they were passing Shantytown.
'No more stops tonight,' Frank said with a chuckle.
The Sleuth crossed the quiet expanse of Bayport harbor and finally entered their boathouse.
Twenty minutes later they reached the Hardy house. Their mother and aunt were anxiously
waiting.
'Goodness gracious!' scolded Aunt Gertrude. 'Is this a time to come home-' She stopped and gasped.
'Oh! Look at them! Soaking wet-like a pair of drowned rats!'
'We're almost dry, Auntie,' Joe replied with a laugh. 'We fell in over an hour ago.'
'Fell in!' their mother exclaimed. 'We can't wait to hear! But first you'd better go upstairs and change, then have some supper.'
Soon Frank and Joe, comfortable in fresh, dry clothes, were seated at the kitchen table before a late but steaming dinner.
'Where's Dad?' Frank asked.
'He left town this afternoon,' Mrs. Hardy replied. 'He's checking an out-of-state clue on the bank robbery. Now tell us what happened to you boys.'
'Well, we thought we saw Chet on a schooner,' Frank began, as he cut into a generous slice of roast beef.
'Only it wasn't Chet . . .' Joe said, and helped himself to a baked potato.
'They thought we were thieves . . .' Frank tried again.
'So we jumped overboard!' Joe added.
'A very clear account,' Aunt Gertrude commented tartly.
As soon as the brothers finished eating they excused themselves, jumped up, and headed for
the back door.
'Oh, no!' cried Aunt Gertrude in alarm. 'Where are you off to now?'
'Just out to the laboratory, Auntie,' Frank reassured her. 'We found something today we must work on.'
The boys ran up the garage stairs and Joe unlocked the door at the top. Frank switched on the
fluorescent light over a clean table. On it he laid the cheesecloth bundle of glass fragments
from the Sleuth.
'We'll need something to hold these together,' he noted, unwrapping the green shards. As the brothers examined them, Frank reached for a container of putty. 'This will be better than glue.'
Treating the fragments like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, the young sleuths rebuilt a twelve-ounce, green-tinted pop bottle.
'Fizzle,' Joe read from the raised glass letters. 'Fizzle-where-'
'Harry's confectionery in Northport!' Frank broke in excitedly. 'The owner said that the bald man bought several bottles of Fizzle!'
'You mean he might have been the one who left the broken glass in the Sleuth?'
'Yes! Not only that-he might have done it while helping to steal our boat.'
'Wait a minute!' Joe's thoughts raced as he followed his brother's line of deduction. 'If that's true, he could be one of the bank robbers! They stole a car in Northport!'
'And don't forget the postcard business, which may tie him in with the kidnaping of Chet and Biff!'
Joe nodded. 'Then there's Ben Stark, the pilot of the Black Cat, which by the way, came down from Northport the day of the bank robbery. Is he linked with both cases? And is his pal Sutton?
And where do the fights at Shantytown fit in?'
'That's for us to find out,' Frank said determinedly. 'Especially since the answer might lead us to Chet and Biff. We're pretty sure they were in Shantytown-since we found Chet's gorilla mask off the coast there, and his sleeve was picked up behind Sutton's shack.'
The excitement suddenly faded from Joe's face. 'Maybe our hunches are on the wrong track.
After all, Fizzle could be sold in other places besides Northport-and we have no proof the bald guy left the bottle in the Sleuth'
'Don't be a pessimist,' Frank begged. 'Remember what Dad says: 'Persistence is just as important as cleverness in detective work.' '
'Yes, and a little luck helps, too. Don't worry. It's just that we have so many mysteries to solve.
Which one do we tackle next?' The ringing of (the telephone interrupted. Frank answered.
'Glad to find you home,' came Chief Collig's familiar voice. 'Maybe you can help me. We have a man down here-been brought in for stealing. He seems to think you and Joe can clear him.'
'Joe and I?' repeated Frank, astonished. 'Why . . . what's his name? What does he look like?'
'He's a big, strong fellow-a stevedore. Calls himself Alt'
CHAPTER XI
Midnight Caller
'ALF Lundborg a thief!' Frank exclaimed. 'I can't believe it! We'll be right down, Chief Collig,'
he promised.
'I don't buy it,' Joe said flatly as they started out. 'What's the pitch?'
Frank shrugged and hurried off to inform his mother of the errand, while Joe locked the
laboratory. Then the brothers rushed downtown on their motorcycles to Chief Collig's office.
'Where's Alf?' asked Joe, looking around as he entered.
'We're holding him in a cell until I talk to you boys,' the officer explained.
'He's the man we told you about yesterday,' Frank reminded the chief. 'The one who helped us in Shantytown. If it hadn't been for him, Sutton would have cracked my skull with a
blackjack.'
'I remember,' the chief replied. 'Sutton's the cause of his arrest.' Before the surprised boys could speak, he added, 'I'll let Lundborg tell you himself.' Over his intercom he ordered the suspect brought in.
'I don't believe Alf's a thief,' Frank said.
'But he does have a record for petty theft and disturbing the peace,' Chief Collig said soberly.
'That makes it look bad for him.'
'How long ago was that?' Joe asked.
'Alf's last brush with the law was five years ago,' Collig replied. 'He claims he was just a wild kid at the time.'
The door opened and Alf stood on the threshold. His giant frame almost hid the sergeant
behind him.
When he saw the Hardys, his troubled face lighted up instantly.
'I knew you fellows wouldn't let me down,' he burst out. 'Tell the chief I didn't take it!'
'Take what, Alf?' said Frank.
