Frank and Joe gave no sign of recognition. Stark's eyes, however, widened in astonishment.
'I know the store is closed,' Frank said to him, 'but we need something desperately. We're the Hardy boys. May we come in?'
Stark's expression changed from amazement to oily politeness. 'Of course, boys!' he answered, and swung the door wide. 'Come right inside!'
Frank and Joe passed into a dim storeroom, lighted by a single bulb overhead. On one side, two tough-looking men they had never seen before eyed them in stunned silence. Ben Stark closed
the door and stood with his back against it.
'So you are the famous Hardy boys!' he said, smiling widely. 'Of course I've heard of you, but I don't think we've met before.'
Stark looked hard at them, but the boys' expressions betrayed nothing. He indicated his
companions.
'This is Mr. Moran and Mr. Duke,' he said. Moran nodded. Duke, a lanky, pale-faced man, merely stared.
'Haven't I heard that you've been working on a new case?' Stark asked. 'What do you suppose has happened to your missing friends?'
Recognizing the attempt to pump them, the young sleuths played along.
'They must have drowned,' Frank replied sadly. He made no reference to the postcard in Chet's handwriting.
For a moment Stark looked puzzled. Then he said with exaggerated sympathy, 'Isn't it strange there's been so much excitement in town lately? Even a bank robbery!'
'That won't be a mystery for long,' Frank boasted to test the man's reaction. 'My father, Fenton Hardy, has it practically solved. The robbers had better watch out!'
Ben Stark's oily smile faded. He looked hard at his two companions by the wall. Catching the
signal, the men left their places and casually drew nearer to Frank and Joe. Both boys sensed
the coming attack and summoned all their will power to appear nonchalant.
'By the way, where's Mr. French?' Joe asked, glancing casually around the room. There was no answer.
The next instant the three men lunged forward and leaped on the brothers!
Boxes tumbled from shelves in the struggle, and the single light bulb swung crazily from the
ceiling. Frank pretended to be fighting off his assailants, but finally he allowed his arms to be pinioned.
Joe, meanwhile, had been thrown against a bank of shelves and had fallen to the floor as
though stunned.
Panting, the men quickly bound, gagged, and blindfolded the two young detectives.
'Now,' gloated Stark, 'if your old man and the police don't call off the hunt for the bank robbers, they'll
never see you again!'
Frank and Joe listened intently, hoping to learn more, but the men said nothing further.
A door slammed. There was a short, silent wait. Then they heard a car engine running in the
yard behind the store.
'Okay!' came Stark's voice. 'Coast is clear!'
Frank and Joe were lifted up, carried a little way, then dropped on the floor of the automobile.
Tensely the two boys waited to hear police whistles and Chief Collig barking orders. But the car began to move, rolling swiftly out the alley, and away.
'What happened to our plan?' Frank wondered. 'Where's Dad?'
'We must have gone in too soon,' Joe thought, dismayed. 'The police couldn't get here in time!'
As the car drove on, Frank and Joe recognized the sounds of heavy traffic all around them.
Gradually the vehicle picked up speed. The engine purred steadily, and the tires whined along
on what could only be open highway.
Presently the car swerved, bumped over uneven ground a short distance, and stopped. In the
sudden silence the blindfolded youths could hear the sound of surf on the beach.
'We're near the shore,' Frank reasoned. 'Shantytown perhaps. The time it took getting here seems about the same as when we came before.'
The car doors were opened. Again the boys were lifted and carried. A minute later each of
them felt a jarring pain as he was dropped on a wooden floor. Rough hands ripped away their
blindfolds.
Although tightly bound, the Hardys struggled to sitting positions. They were in a small board
shack. A little light came through a tiny window high up in one of the walls.
Ben Stark and Moran were going out the door. Stark looked back. 'Keep your eyes open, Duke,'
he ordered sharply. 'Those kids are slippery.'
'Don't worry,' the pale-faced man replied insolently.
After his two companions had left, he went to a water bucket in one corner, dipped in a tin cup, and drank thirstily. Then he sat down in a wooden chair and tilted back lazily against the wall.
Frank and Joe listened anxiously for sounds of rescue. They could hear the sea, but nothing
else.
Carefully they looked over their prison. The shack was crudely built out of broken crates and old two-by-fours. Long, sharp points of nails stuck through the wall near Duke's chair. At the rear of the room was a little squat wood-burning stove.
Cramped and helpless, the boys could only wait. As night came on, Duke stood up and lighted a
kerosene lantern hanging on the wall. Then he sat down and tilted back his chair again.
'Might as well face it,' thought Frank. 'Rescue isn't coming.' He looked at Joe with silent urgency, and his eyes said plainly, 'It's up to us!'
CHAPTER XV
Outwitting a Suspect
ALTHOUGH bound and gagged, the Hardys exchanged messages. Frank's glance slid to their
guard, tilted back in his chair against the wall. Then he looked at his brother.
Joe nodded slightly to show he understood and looked toward the lantern. The glass was
turning black with soot and the room was in deep shadow.
'Lucky it's dark in here,' he thought, 'because we'll have to get these ropes off without being seen.'
Frank's eyes fastened on the long nails he had seen sticking through the wall near the chair
legs. If only he could get his back to those sharp points I Cautiously he inched toward the wall.
Duke, who appeared to be asleep, did not stir. Joe also moved.
Bit by bit, the brothers worked their way closer to the protruding nails.
At last Frank sat with his back against the wall, not far from the guard's chair. Hardly daring to breathe, he felt behind him until a tenpenny spike pricked his wrist. If he was lucky, his scheme would work!
Frank eyed his captor. The man was still asleep. Quickly Frank rubbed the rope against the
sharp point.
He could feel the strands separate, one at a time. His arms and back ached, but he kept on
doggedly.
Finally the rope was severed. His hands freed, he removed the gag, then pulled out his pocket-
knife and cut the ropes around his ankles. Reaching over, he cut Joe's bonds.
Then Frank seized a leg of Duke's tilted chair and jerked it out from under the guard. Slam!
Duke fell on his back and cried out.
Frank and Joe leaped on him together, but he rolled away. As he bounced to his feet, Joe
brought him down with a tackle.
Fighting desperately, the guard kicked, bit, scratched, and finally broke away. Gasping, he
backed into a corner. As Frank went after him, Duke grabbed the kerosene lantern and hurled
it. The boys ducked.
Crash! The glass shattered and kerosene drenched the opposite wall. A flame licked up the side of the shack.
'Water!' Joe yelled. 'The bucket!'
He tore off his shirt and tried to beat out the flames. At the same time, Frank and Duke
