FOLLOWING CLUES
This new sensation soon had Bayport by the ears.
Although the owners of private cars had been content to leave the
matter of their stolen property in the hands of the police, the Eastern
Importing Company went a step farther. They not only demanded the
fullest official investigation, but they retained Fenton Hardy to
take up the case, as well. They were by no means resigned to losing a
valuable load of silk without a struggle.
In his study, next day, Mr. Hardy called in his sons and told them the
importing company had asked him to do what he could toward recovering
the stolen goods.
"Aside from my fee," he said, "they are offering a reward of five
hundred dollars if the silk is returned to them. What I want to ask you
is this--do you think there is any chance that the truck driver and his
assistant may have been lying?"
The boys scouted this theory.
"I don't think so, Dad," returned Frank. "They told a perfectly
straight story. As a matter of fact, they were so anxious to get to
Bayport and report the robbery that it was some time before we could
get them to tell us what actually happened."
"And they could never have tied themselves up as thoroughly as they
were tied," Joe declared.
"Men have been known to rob their employers before this," said Mr.
Hardy. "We can't afford to overlook any possibilities."
"I think you can afford to overlook that one, sir. These men were
honest, I'm sure of that."
"Well, Frank, I'll trust your judgment. I've investigated the records
of the two men and they have never had anything against them, so I
suppose it was an honest-to-goodness hold-up."
"It was real enough. We could see the marks in the embankment where
they had been rolled down from the road," put in Joe.
"I'm sorry they couldn't give a better description of the hold-up men.
All they could say was that they were both of medium height and that
they wore masks. It isn't very much to go on. However, I may be able to
get a line on the case when they try to get rid of the silk. The stuff
is bound to turn up sooner or later and I may be able to trace it back
to the thieves."
However, although Fenton Hardy devoted the next two days to the case,
he made little progress toward locating either the missing truck or its
cargo. As in the case of the other stolen cars, the truck seemed to
have vanished into thin air, and although its description was broadcast
all through the state, and police officials and garage mechanics were
asked to be on the lookout for it, the mystery remained unsolved.
One evening toward the latter part of the week, the Hardy boys mounted
their motorcycles and rode down High Street in the direction of the
Shore Road. This was in accordance with a plan made earlier in the day.
"It stands to reason that if any of the cars ever got out into the
state, at least one or two of them would be found," said Frank. "I have
a mighty strong hunch that the whole mystery begins and ends right
along that road."
"Perhaps those tramps we saw in the woods might have something to do
with it."
"They may have had something to do with the hold-up, although it's not
very probable. They looked as if they'd been sitting around that fire
for quite a while, and it was a good distance from the place where the
truck was robbed. However, it won't hurt us to do a little sentry duty
and keep an eye on the Shore Road. We may have our trouble for nothing,
but you never know what will turn up."
The lads drove out the road to a point mid-way between the scene of the
truck hold-up and the Dodd farm. It was growing dark by the time they
drew their motorcycles beneath the shelter of some trees.
"We might as well wait right here," said Frank, making himself
comfortable on the grass. "If we see anything suspicious we can follow
it up."
In the heavy shade, the boys could not be seen from the road. They
talked in whispers. They had no clear idea of what they expected to
find, but they were convinced that the Shore Road hid the mystery of
the stolen automobiles, and their experience in previous cases had
taught them that patience was often rewarded.
A few cars passed by, some bound toward Bayport, others in the opposite
direction, but they were obviously pleasure cars and there was nothing
about them to arouse suspicion. Once in a while, through the trees on
top of the bluff, the boys could see the twinkling lights of a boat out
on Barmet Bay. In the summer night, the silence was only broken by the
trilling of frogs in the ditches along the road.
Presently they heard voices.
There was no one approaching along the highway, but as the voices grew
louder they appeared to come from a field beyond the fence. At that
moment the moon appeared from behind a cloud, and in its ghostly light,
the Hardy boys distinguished two figures moving toward them in the
meadow.
Silently, the lads crouched in the shadow of the trees, watching.
"This is a good night for it," growled one of the men.
"It's a good night if we don't get caught."
Joe's hand tightened about Frank's arm.
"What are you worrying about? We won't get caught. It isn't the first
time we've got away with it."
"Yes, I know. But, somehow, I'm nervous to-night. I'm afraid we'll land
up in the police court some of these fine days."
"If you're scared, go on home. I'll go on alone," said the first man
scornfully.
"I'm not scared! Who says I'm scared?"
"Well, if you're not scared, shut up. I know we're breakin' the law,
but we've never been caught yet."
The men scrambled over the fence. The boys saw that the first fellow
was carrying two long poles and that the other carried a bag over his
shoulder.
"Have you got all the stuff?"
"Yes."
"We'd better not walk along the road. Somebody's liable to spot us.
Keep to the shadow and then we'll cut down into the woods."
The men hastily crossed the road in the moonlight. They were only a few
yards away from the boys but, fortunately, did not see them. In the dim
light, the watchers could not distinguish the features of the pair.
"There's a path here somewhere, isn't there?" asked one.
"Don't you remember it? If it hadn't been for that path the other night
we'd have been nabbed."
"That's right. You know this country pretty well."
"I should. I've lived around here long enough."
About fifty yards away, the men turned down toward the woods and
vanished in the darkness of the trees. Their voices receded. Frank and
Joe scrambled to their feet.
"Come on," said Frank, in excitement. "We'll follow them."
"Do you think they're the thieves?"
"I'm sure of it. They're up to some kind of monkey-business, anyway.
We'll find out where they're going."
In the soft grass the boys made not a sound as they sped along in the
shade of the trees toward the path the two men had taken. They found
it without difficulty, a fairly well defined trail that was quite
visible in the moonlight. The lads plunged into the depths of the woods
and there the moonlight did not penetrate. They had to feel their way
forward, moving slowly in order to keep their progress silent.
After a while they could hear the voices of the two men again, not far
ahead.
"Go easy," one was saying. "You never know who's likely to be prowling
around here these nights."
"Too many police been nosing around these parts to suit me."
"We've got to take those chances."
The boys emerged into a clearing on the slope just in time to see the
two men disappearing into the heavy wood on the opposite side. The
clearing lay wide and deserted in the bright moonlight.
"They're up to some mischief," said Frank. "We'll have to be careful
they don't see us."
"I wonder what those long poles are for!"
"They're not fishing poles. Too short and straight for that."
"Well, we'll soon find out. I think we're on the trail of something
big."
"I'm sure of it."
The boys sped across the clearing and went on down the trail through
the dark wood beyond. They were drawing closer to a brook now and they
could plainly hear the lapping of the water against the rocks in the
distance. In this vicinity there were several brooks flowing down into
Barmet Bay.
Frank suddenly came to a stop.
"Look!" he said.
The boys peered through the gloom.
Beyond the branches of the trees they saw a glimmer of light. It
disappeared, then shone again, steadily.