'Let's take both our boats,' Tony proposed. 'We might need them-if we find Chet and Biff.'
They piled into the Sleuth and Frank steered the craft down to the dock where Tony kept the
Napoli. Just as the two boats were ready to cast off, Callie Shaw and Iola Morton walked out
onto Tony's dock.
'Oh, are you boys going for a ride?' Callie asked. 'May we come along?'
'Gosh, Callie,' Frank said doubtfully, 'this isn't exactly a pleasure cruise. We're bound for Hermit Island to look for Chet and Biff.'
'Oh, then you have to take us,' pleaded Iola. 'After all, Chet's my brother.' Her eyes filled with tears.
'Please, Frank.'
'Iola's right,' Joe agreed. 'The girls want to find Chet and Biff as much as we do.'
'Okay,' said Frank. 'Pile in, then!' Iola cheered up at once and the Hardys helped the girls into the stern of the Sleuth.
The boats moved swiftly out the harbor, with Frank leading the way in the slightly faster Sleuth.
Before long, the shore islands came into sight, with their white, drifted sand, scrubby
vegetation, and huge, barren rocks.
Hermit Island, a big craggy pile, loomed out of the water higher than all the others. It was
attractive but wild looking.
'Too rough on this side to land,' Frank called over to the Napoli. 'Good beach on the lee shore, though, I believe. Follow me!'
The search party rounded the island. After the girls had stepped onto firm sand, the four boys tied their mooring ropes to trees at the edge of the beach. All went ashore and gazed at the
lonely spot.
'This is a spooky place,' commented Iola, looking around her uneasily.
'It does give one the creeps,' Callie agreed.
The boys laughed but felt they should proceed carefully. With Frank and Joe in the lead, they
set off on a faint path that wound along the shore at the base of the steep, rocky hill which
formed the heart of the island. Above the searchers loomed jagged cliffs, cut here and there by deep ravines, thick with pines and coarse grass.
At times Joe cupped his hands and shouted, 'Hallooo . . . Bi-iff . . . Che-e-t!'
There was no answer. 'Looks hopeless,' Joe commented.
At last the path began to rise steeply. The four boys moved upward much faster than Iola and
Callie.
Finally the girls dropped behind. The boys continued on, clambering and puffing, forgetful of
everything but the tough terrain they were fighting.
Suddenly a sharp scream rang out from below. 'Callie!' cried Frank, whirling.
CHAPTER XIII
The Threatening Figure
TUMBLING and sliding, the four boys rushed pell-mell down the steep path to Iola and Callie.
The girls clung together in fright.
'What is it, Callie?' cried Frank.
Speechless, the girl pointed upward. From the top of the bluff a wild-looking old man with a
long, dirty white beard was pointing a shotgun at them.
His clothes were torn, and he wore a battered felt hat. The weird figure stood motionless,
silhouetted against the blue sky. The afternoon sunlight gleamed on the barrels of his weapon.
'He must be the hermit,' muttered Joe.
'Git off my island!' came the strong, deep voice of the old man. The shotgun jerked
threateningly. 'Git, I say!'
'We'd better do as he says,' Frank advised.
He took Callie's arm. Joe grabbed Iola's. The six young people scooted for the beach.
As they followed the path, the Hardys and their friends could see the strange man darting from rock to rock along the top of the bluff above them. He did not let them out of his sight. When they reached the boats, Frank and Joe quickly helped the girls safely aboard the Sleuth.
Joe took the wheel while Frank cast off. The Sleuth and the Napoli were run just out of shotgun range, then throttled down while their passengers took another look at their adversary. The old man stood in the same threatening attitude on the hilltop.
'You know,' Frank noted, 'for an old fellow he has a powerful voice.'
'He's plenty spry, too,' Joe added. 'Did you see how he jumped across those rocks? He's nimble as a goat!'
'And did you notice his shotgun?' Frank asked. 'It was very well cared for; not like his beard and clothes!'
'There was no nonsense about that gun,' Joe agreed. 'I'd like to know what the man's trying to keep us away from!'
'Maybe he just wants to be left alone,' Callie suggested.
'After all, he is a hermit,' added Iola.
'Whatever he is,' declared Joe, 'I'd like to get a closer look at him sometime.'
Joe put on power and the Sleuth shot forward over the water. The Napoli trailed close behind.
As the island dropped astern, Frank remarked, 'I can still make out the hermit. He's standing motionless on that hilltop.'
The two speedboats crossed the wide expanse of Bayport harbor and came to rest at Tony's
dock.
'Say, you fellows don't have any transportation down here,' Jerry recalled. 'Shall I pick you up at your boathouse?'
'No, thanks,' Frank replied. 'Joe and I came out to do some sleuthing. We'll walk. We have a few stops to make.'
'Okay, we'll give Iola and Callie a lift, then.' They helped the girls ashore and Frank and Joe waved good- by.
After locking the Sleuth in her berth, Frank and Joe walked to the center of town. 'Let's stop at headquarters,' Frank suggested as they approached the familiar stone building. 'Maybe there's some new word on Sutton.'
The boys found Chief Collig in conference with Lieutenant Daley.
'It's all right. Come in, fellows,' the chief invited. 'Daley's been over at the hospital. Sutton has regained consciousness.'
'What did he say?' Frank inquired eagerly.
'He claims he doesn't know who beat him up,' replied Lieutenant Daley. 'Says he was hit from behind and never saw his attacker.'
'But that can't be true!' Frank protested. 'The bruises I saw were mostly on his face.'
'Oh, he knows who did it, all right,' Lieutenant Daley agreed. 'Only he's covering up for somebody.
Why should he try to protect that big fellow he tried to frame last night?'
'How about Alf?' Joe broke in. 'What's his story?'
'We have Lundborg in a cell,' Lieutenant Daley answered. 'Of course he denies any part in the beating.'
'We can't hold him much longer,' put in Chief Collig. 'There's no evidence against him.'
'Of course not! Alf wouldn't beat up a fellow half his size,' Joe declared.
'Then why did Sutton mumble Lundborg's name in his delirium?' the chief countered.
'Sutton had a grudge against Alf. It must have been on his mind,' Frank suggested.
'That could be,' Chief Collig conceded. 'How have you two boys been making out? Any new dues on Chet or Biff? We have none.'
'No, we haven't,' Frank answered. 'We went out to Hermit Island on a hunch this afternoon, but had no luck
