The brothers spotted the squatters' colony of slapped-together board dwellings ahead.
The cycles chugged up Shore Road, which rose and twisted along the top of high, rocky cliffs
along the sea.
'Look down there!' Joe called out suddenly. He had caught the glint of sunshine on a familiar hull. The Sleuth! It was stranded on the beach!
'Yippee!' exclaimed Frank. 'The robbers must have floated her in at high tide.' The boys parked their motorcycles and hurried to the edge of the bluff. Below them, the rocky cliff fell straight down to the boulders bordering the sand.
'I don't see a path,' Frank said. 'Wait! Here's a place we can go down.'
As he leaned over the edge, a mass of loose sod and stone gave way at his feet. With a startled cry Frank slid downward. Desperately he grasped for a hold, his clawing fingers closing on a
sharp slab jutting out just below the lip of the bluff. His body hung a hundred feet above the rocks and sand below.
'Hang on!' Joe shouted, and whipped his extra-long leather belt from its loops. Lying flat, he inched downward over the cliff edge until he could pass the leather under Frank's armpits. He
slid the end through the buckle and pulled the belt tight.
Joe squirmed back again, braced himself, and hauled. For one sickening moment Frank swung
like a pendulum beneath the cliff. With all his strength, Joe jerked the belt again and a moment later helped Frank clamber to safety.
'Whew! That was close!' Frank said, gasping. 'If it hadn't been for you-'
'Better leave the boat,' Joe panted, retrieving his belt. 'We can come by sea with the Coast Guard and get her.' Still shaking from fright, Frank agreed.
The brothers went at once to the Coast Guard station on the pier. When Lieutenant Parker
heard Frank's story, he called two men and led the way to a patrol boat. The powerful craft
headed straight out the mouth of the bay and turned sharply up the coast.
The beach was a whitish line on their left. Soon it broadened, and the tumble-down buildings of Shantytown came into view.
'Wait! Wait a minute!' Frank called out. 'Can we slow down? What's that white thing floating in the water?'
'A dead fish,' suggested a Coast Guardman.
The patrol boat throttled down and slid nearer the object. Leaning far over the side, Joe lunged and scooped it from the sea.
'This isn't a fish!' he cried out excitedly. 'It's a rubber mask turned inside out!'
As he spoke, his fingers moved nimbly. In an instant a limp gorilla face appeared.
'This belongs to Chet!' Frank exclaimed.
CHAPTER VII
Dangerous Beachcombing
FRANK took the mask from Joe and examined it carefully. 'You're right. Here's the place where Chet ripped it at the party.'
'But what's it doing floating in the bay?' asked Joe in great concern. 'He and Biff must have gone out in a boat after all.'
'But whose?' Frank queried.
'And why would they go out in the fog?' Joe added. Then he voiced the question uppermost in both their minds. 'You don't think they could have drowned?'
Frank's face was grim. 'Chet and Biff are excellent swimmers. Maybe, for a reason we don't know yet, they're hiding somewhere-perhaps Shantytown!' Frank gazed intently across the
water at the squatter colony, now falling astern.
'Could be,' Joe said. 'They knew about our case. Maybe they picked up a clue and landed in Shantytown. We'd better find out as soon as we get the Sleuth.'
The boys lapsed into worried silence until the Coast Guard boat came within sight of rocky cliffs towering
high above the white beach.
A seaman scanned the shore with binoculars and sang out, 'There she is, sir! It's the Sleuth, all right. I can read her name.'
The engines of the cutter shuddered as it swung in toward the beached motorboat. The Hardys
whipped off their shoes and leaped overboard into thigh-deep water as the craft crunched
against the sandy bottom. Joe was the first to reach the derelict Sleuth.
'She looks okay,' he called out to his brother.
'Yes, but high and dry,' Frank said as he waded ashore.
'We'll help you float her,' a seaman offered.
Quickly gathering large pieces of driftwood, the boys improvised a crude skidway. Then, with
the Coast Guardmen helping, they slid the boat down to the water. A towline was secured and
the Sleuth bobbed toward Bayport in the wake of the Coast Guard patrol boat.
'Let's tow her straight to the boatyard,' Frank suggested. 'Maybe they have the new part by now.'
His guess proved correct. While the patrol boat waited, the young mechanic quickly examined
the Sleuth.
'Have you been using her?' he asked the Hardys.
'Well-somebody has, Charlie,' Joe replied.
The mechanic nodded. 'Hm-thought so. The temporary repair I made didn't last. But if you
keep turning the wheel, you can make her steer a little-enough to get by.'
'That's how the bandits slipped away in the fog last night,' Frank whispered to his brother.
'I'll be finished in an hour,' Charlie said. 'Shall I have her taken to your boathouse?'
'Righto,' Frank replied. 'We'll pick her up there.'
The Hardys rode on the patrol boat to the Coast Guard pier, thanked Lieutenant Parker and his
men for their help, and hastened to their motorcycles.
'I wish the Sleuth were ready now,' Joe said impatiently, 'so we could go right to Shantytown.'
'But first we have to round up beachcomber disguises,' Frank reminded him.
The boys rode home and changed into dry clothes. While Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude were
preparing lunch for them, Joe called police headquarters. He learned that there were no new
leads on their friends or the bank robbers.
Chief Collig was amazed to hear about the discovery of Chet's mask. 'The boys may be nearer than I thought. I've already sent out a seventeen-state missing-persons alarm.'
'We might find more clues in Shantytown,' Joe told him. 'We're going there next.'
Directly after lunch, Frank and Joe bounded upstairs, pulled out some old shirts and pants, and hurried down again. As they passed through the hall carrying the clothes, their mother and aunt looked out from
the living room in surprise.
'Where are you going?' Aunt Gertrude inquired.
Mrs. Hardy asked, smiling, 'Not another costume party? I returned your gorilla and magician suits this morning.'
'Did you explain to Mr. French about Chet and Biff? He'll wonder why they don't bring their costumes back,' Joe said.
'He wasn't there,' Mrs. Hardy replied. 'I left your outfits with the clerk.'
'Where are you boys off to?' Aunt Gertrude demanded again.
'We're going sleuthing in Shantytown,' Frank replied. 'Probably we won't be home to supper.'
Aunt Gertrude stared in disapproval. 'Even foolhardy young detectives get hungry,' she said tartly.
'I'll pack your supper,' their mother offered. Aunt Gertrude and the boys followed her into the kitchen where the two women quickly prepared a package of food for the boys to take along.
'You and Auntie certainly move fast, Mother,' Joe said admiringly. 'Thanks a lot.'
