THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED
The Hardy boys were the heroes of Bayport when the news of the capture
of Snackley and his men spread throughout the city next day. As for
Tony Prito, he was the envy of all the chums of the two lads.
“Tony had all the luck,” bemoaned Chet Morton, as the boys were all
sitting in the barn back of the Hardy home next afternoon. This barn,
which had been fitted up as a gymnasium, was a meeting place for the
lads on occasions of importance.
“We had to have a motorboat,” said Frank. “Believe me, I was wishing
more than once that the whole crowd was along.”
“And you’ll get the reward for capturing Snackley?” asked Phil Cohen.
“Not all of it. Dad gets half. Joe and I split the rest.”
“You haven’t any kick coming. What’s going to happen to Snackley?”
“He’ll probably go to the electric chair,” answered Frank soberly.
“Why?”
“He murdered Felix Polucca, the miser.”
“Murdered him?”
“Yes. Dad found that out in his investigations. Dad suspected all along
that there was some connection between Snackley and the house on the
cliff, especially when he found that Snackley and Polucca had been
related. He went out to find out what he could, but the smugglers saw
him and captured him.”
“What about that fellow they had imprisoned in the cellar?” questioned
Biff Hooper. “Didn’t you say Snackley was just going to kill him when
your father saved him?”
“That was the young fellow we saved in the bay that day. The young chap
who told us his name was Jones. It wasn’t his real name, at all. His
name is Yates and he was one of the smugglers.”
“Why was Snackley chasing him that day?” asked Perry Robinson.
“It seems that Yates got angry because he didn’t get his full share of
the money from the last smuggling trip, so he threatened to tell the
police on Snackley. The smugglers locked him up, but he got away in one
of the motorboats, so they chased him and ran him down. They thought
to have killed him in the explosion or else drown him, but Joe and I
managed to bring him ashore. We left him at the Kane farmhouse, but the
smugglers came along next day and kidnapped him. They kept him prisoner
in the cellar of the Polucca place after that.”
“I still can’t understand about those yells and shrieks we heard the
first day we were out at the farmhouse,” put in Phil Cohen.
“That was just to frighten us away. One of the men in the gang is a
sort of half-wit and they had him posted there to frighten people off
by yelling and shrieking whenever any one showed up around the place.
He was the chap who stole our tools from the motorcycles,” explained
Frank.
“But after our visit there,” added Joe, “they thought it was too
dangerous and that there might be an investigation, so they put Redhead
and his wife and one of their men there to pose as renters of the
place.”
“So there weren’t any ghosts after all,” exclaimed Jerry Gilroy.
“Nary a ghost,” laughed Frank, “Snackley explained everything this
morning in a confession. The whole gang is locked up, even to Li Chang.
Yates, the young fellow they had kept prisoner so long, told the whole
story first. He turned state’s evidence and told how long the smuggling
had been going on, how Snackley had made use of the house on the cliff
after killing Polucca, how he fixed up the tunnels in the cliff—he
told everything. It seems that Polucca had the smuggling idea in the
first place and he spent years fixing up those caves and tunnels. When
everything was ready, he called in Snackley, but Snackley didn’t like
to share with any one who had a right to a voice in the affair, so he
killed the old man, took his money, and brought the smuggling gang in
there.”
“Yates told all that?”
“He told so much of it that Snackley saw there was no use bluffing any
longer, so he admitted the whole story.”
“Gosh!” sighed Chet. “Just my luck! I was there in time to get scared
to death by that half-wit, and there in time to get bawled out and
chased off the farm by Redhead and his wife, but I missed out on all
the fun at the last.”
“Not much fun about it,” declared Joe. “It didn’t seem funny to us when
the smugglers caught us in the cave just as we were getting dad free.”
“And it wasn’t any fun hiding in that attic with the bullets coming
through the floor, nineteen to the dozen,” added Frank. “I thought
every minute was going to be my last.”
“No, I guess it wasn’t any too funny then,” admitted Chet. “You
deserve every cent you get out of the reward.”
“We’ll treat the whole gang to a feed as soon as we collect,” Joe
promised.
“Whee!” shouted Chet, turning a handspring. “Now you’re talking!”
The Hardy boys kept their word. Soon after they had received their
share of the reward, which was presented to them with many glowing
words and congratulations from the federal authorities who had long
been trying to put Snackley behind the bars, they gave a dinner in the
barn that eclipsed any similar “feed” in the history of Bayport.
“I hope the Hardy boys solve a mystery every week,” said Chet, as he
confronted his third dish of ice-cream. “And I hope they celebrate
every success the same way.”
The Hardy boys were not destined to solve a mystery every week, but
it was not long before they were plunged into a maze of events which
were fully as exciting as those which led to the finding of the tower
treasure and those that followed their first visit to the house on the
cliff. The story of their adventures will be told in the next volume of
this series, called, “The Hardy Boys: The Secret of the Old Mill.”
Tony Prito, conscious of the envying glances of the other lads because
he had participated in the eventful climax to the mystery of the house
on the cliff, scooped up the last of his ice-cream and said:
“Once I wanted my father to buy an automobile and he bought a motorboat
instead. Now he wants to sell the boat and buy an automobile. Just let
him try it! That boat gave me more fun in one day than I’d ever had
since we came to the States.”
THE END
* * * * *
MYSTERY STORIES FOR BOYS
By FRANKLIN W. DIXON
THE HARDY BOYS: THE TOWER TREASURE
THE HARDY BOYS: THE HOUSE ON THE CLIFF
THE HARDY BOYS: THE SECRET OF THE OLD MILL
(Other Volumes in Preparation)