THE NEW CAR
As days passed and the Shore Road mystery was no nearer solution,
police activity was redoubled. Motorists became caustic in their
comments and Chief Collig felt it as a reflection on his force that no
clues had been unearthed.
The matter, however, was not wholly in the hands of the Bayport force,
inasmuch as the Shore Road was beyond Chief Collig's jurisdiction, and
the state troopers were also made aware of their responsibility. So,
with local police, detectives and troopers on the case, it seemed that
the auto thieves could scarcely hope to evade capture.
However, the search was in vain. Not a trace of the missing cars could
be found. Even Fenton Hardy had to confess himself baffled.
"Looks as if there's a chance for us yet," said Frank Hardy.
"Looks to me as if there isn't. How can we hope to catch the auto
thieves when every one else has fallen down on the job?" demanded his
brother.
"We might be lucky. And, anyway, I've had an idea that might be worked
out."
"What is it?"
"Come with me and I'll show you."
Mystified, Joe followed his brother out of the house and they went down
the street in the direction of a well-known local automobile agency.
As they walked, Frank explained his plan. At first Joe was dubious.
"It couldn't be done."
"Why not? All we need is a little capital, and we have that. Then if we
have nerve enough to go through with the rest of it, we may be lucky
enough to trap the thieves."
"Too many 'ifs' and 'may bes' to suit me," demurred Joe. "Still, if you
think we could get away with it, I'm with you."
"We may fail, but our money won't be altogether wasted. We've always
wanted a car, anyway."
"That's true. We'll go and look this one over."
Arriving at the automobile agency, they were greeted by the manager,
who knew them well.
"What is it this morning, boys?" he asked, with a smile. "Can I sell
you a car to-day?"
He meant it as a joke, and he was greatly surprised when Frank
answered:
"It all depends. We'll buy one if you can make us a good price."
"Why, that's fine," said the manager, immediately becoming
businesslike. "What would you like to see? One of the new sport models?"
"No," replied Joe. "We're in the market for a used car."
"We heard you had Judge Keene's old car here," added Frank.
"Why, yes, we have. He turned it in and bought a new model. But you
wouldn't want that car, boys. It looks like a million dollars, but it's
all on the surface. I'll be frank with you--Judge Keene said the engine
was no good, and I agree with him. It was put out by a new company that
went bankrupt about a year later. They put all their money into the
bodies of the cars and not very much into the engines. You would be
wasting your money."
"We want a good-looking car, cheap," insisted Frank. "I don't care so
much about the engine. It's the looks that count this time."
The manager shook his head.
"Well," he said, "I suppose you lads like to have a car that'll knock
everybody's eye out, and I'm not denying this is a dandy-looking boat.
But I won't guarantee its performance."
"We don't care, if the price is right. Where is it?"
The manager led the boys to the back of the showrooms, where they
found a luxurious-looking auto. It looked, so Joe afterward said, "like
a million dollars." With a fresh coat of paint it would have seemed
like a model straight from the factory.
"What do you think of it?" Frank asked his brother.
"A peach."
"Boys, I hate to see you buy this car," the manager protested. "Take
the money and put it into a good, standard car that you can depend on.
You'll have more trouble running this automobile than the looks are
worth. If you weren't friends of mine I wouldn't waste my time telling
you this, for I'm anxious to get this mass of junk off my hands. But
your father would never forgive me if he thought I'd stung you boys
with a cement mixer like this one."
"It's the looks that count with us," said Frank. "How much do you want
for it?"
"I'll sell it to you for four hundred dollars."
"Four hundred!" exclaimed Joe. "Why, that looks like a
three-thousand-dollar car!"
"It looks like one, but it isn't," said the Manager. "You'll be lucky
to drive a thousand miles in it before the engine gives out."
"We won't drive any thousand miles in it," Joe remarked mysteriously.
"Don't let any one else have the car, and we'll go and get the money,"
Frank told the man.
They left the manager smoothing his hair and pondering on the folly of
boys in general, although he was secretly relieved at having got rid of
the imposing looking car, which he had regarded as a dead loss.
Going directly to the bank, the boys withdrew four hundred dollars from
their account, after cautioning the teller not to mention the matter to
their father.
"We're going to give him a little surprise," said Frank.
"All right," said the teller, wondering what the boys wanted with such
a large sum, "I won't tell him."
Back to the agency they went, handed over the money, and drove out in
state, Frank at the wheel of their new possession. The car was indeed
a splendid-looking vehicle, having excellent lines, good fittings, and
a quantity of nickel trimmings that enhanced its luxurious appearance.
Frank soon found that the manager had spoken correctly when he said
that the value was all on the surface, for the engine began giving
trouble before they had driven two blocks.
"However," he said to his brother, "this old boat may earn us a lot
more than the money we paid for it, and if it doesn't we'll have
plenty of fun tinkering around and putting a real engine in it."
They drove into the yard of their home. Aunt Gertrude spied them first
and uttered a squawk of astonishment, then fled into the house to
inform Mrs. Hardy of this latest evidence of imbecility on the part of
the lads. Their mother came out, and the boys admitted that the car was
theirs.
"We're not extravagant, Mother," they protested. "We got it for a
certain reason, and we'll tell you all about it later. The old boat
isn't as expensive as it looks. We picked it up cheap."
Mrs. Hardy had implicit confidence in her sons and when they said there
was a reason behind the purchase she was content to bide her time and
await their explanations. She was curious to know why they had made
this extraordinary move, but was too discreet to ask any questions.
With the car in the garage, the boys went downtown again and bought
several cans of automobile paint. And, for the rest of the week, they
busied themselves transforming the automobile into "a thing of beauty
and a joy forever."
Their parents were puzzled, but said nothing. Aunt Gertrude was
frankly indignant and at mealtimes made many veiled references to the
luxury-loving tendencies of modern youth.
"It's not enough for them to have motorcycles and a motorboat, but
now they must have an automobile!" she sniffed. "And it's not enough
for them to buy an ordinary flivver--they must have a car that a
millionaire would be proud to own."
Secretly, the boys considered this a compliment. They felt that their
aunt would be vastly surprised if she knew the low price they had paid.
"Wait till she sees it when we have it painted," said Frank.
Their chums, too, were unable to imagine what had possessed the Hardy
boys to purchase a so large and expensive-looking car. Frank and Joe
did not enlighten them. They had bought the car for a certain purpose
and they were afraid that if they confided in any one, their plans
might leak out. So they busied themselves with painting the new car,
and said nothing of their intentions to any one, not even to Chet
Morton.
At last the work was finished.
On Friday night after school Frank applied the last dab of paint, and
the brothers stood back to survey their handiwork.
"She's a beauty!" declared Joe.
"I'll tell the world!"
The automobile was resplendent in its fresh coat of paint. The nickel
glittered.
"Looks like a Rolls-Royce."
"A car like that would tempt any auto thief in the world."
"I hope it does."
"Well, we're all set for Act Two," said Frank. "I think we'll go out
to-night. Our bait is ready."
"I hope we catch something."
With this mysterious dialogue, the boys went into the house for supper.
They were so excited over their impending journey that they could
scarcely take time to eat.
"Some mischief on foot," commented Aunt Gertrude.