Finally Joe said, “Thanks. For a second I sure thought I was going to end my career as a detective right here!”
“I guess you can also thank our gym teacher for the tricks he taught you on the bars,” Frank remarked. “You must have grabbed those spindles with flash-camera speed.”
Presently the boys turned their eyes upward. An expression halfway between a grin and a worried frown crossed their faces.
“Mr. Applegate,” Joe remarked, “isn’t going to like hearing we ruined his trap door.”
“No. Let’s see if we can put it back in place.”
The boys climbed the stairway and examined the damage. They found that the hinges had pulled away from rotted wood. A new piece would have to be put in to hold the door in place.
“Before we go downstairs,” said Joe, “let’s look out on the roof. We thought maybe the loot was hidden there. Remember?”
Frank and Joe climbed outside to a narrow, railinged walk that ran around the four sides of the square tower. There was nothing on it.
“Our only reward for all this work is a good view of Bayport,” Frank remarked ruefully.
Below lay the bustling little city, and to the east was Barmet Bay, its waters sparkling in the late afternoon.
“Dad was fooled by Jackley, I guess,” Frank said slowly. “There hasn’t been anyone in this tower for years.”
The boys gazed moodily over the city, then down at the grounds of Tower Mansion. The many roofs of the house itself were far below, and directly across from them rose the heavy bulk of the new tower.
“Do you think Jackley might have meant the new tower?” Joe exclaimed suddenly.
“Dad said he specified the old one.”
“But he may have been mistaken. Even the new one looks old. Let’s ask Mr. Applegate if we may search the new tower, too.”
“It’s worth trying, anyway. But I’m afraid when we tell him about the trap door, he’ll say no.”
The brothers went down through the opening. They lifted the door into place, latched it, and then wedged Frank’s small pocket notebook into the damaged side. The door held, but Frank and Joe knew that wind or rain would easily dislodge it.
The boys hurried down the steps and through the corridor to the main part of the house.
Adelia Applegate popped her head out of a doorway. “Where’s the loot?” she asked.
“We didn’t find any,” Frank admitted.
The woman sniffed. “I told you so! Such a waste of time!”
“We think now,” Joe spoke up, “that the stolen property is probably hidden in the new tower.”
“In the new tower!” Miss Applegate cried out. “Absurd! I suppose you’ll want to go poking through there now.”
“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
“It would be too much trouble, indeed!” she shrilled. “I shan’t have boys rummaging through my house on a wild-goose chase like this. You’d better leave at once, and forget all this nonsense.”
Her voice had attracted the attention of Hurd Applegate, who came hobbling out of his study.
“Now what’s the matter?” he demanded. His sister told him and suddenly his face creased in a triumphant smile. “Aha! So you didn’t find anything after all! You thought you’d clear Robinson, but you haven’t done it.”
“Not yet,” Frank answered.
“These boys have the audacity,” Miss Applegate broke in, “to want to go looking through the new tower.”
Hurd Applegate stared at the boys. “Well, they can’t do it!” he snapped. “Are you boys trying to make a fool of me?” he asked, shaking a fist at them.
Frank and Joe exchanged glances and nodded at each other. They would have to reveal their reason for thinking the loot was in the new tower.
“Mr. Applegate,” Frank began, “the information about where your stolen stuff is hidden came from the man who took the jewels and the bonds. And it wasn’t Mr. Robinson.”
“What! You mean it was someone else? Has he been caught?”
“He was captured but he’s dead now.”
“Dead? What happened?” Hurd Applegate asked in excitement.
“His name was Red Jackley and he was a notorious criminal. Dad got on his trail and Jackley tried to escape on a railroad handcar. It smashed up and he was fatally injured,” Frank explained.
“Where did you get your information then?” Mr. Applegate asked.
Frank told the whole story, ending with, “We thought Jackley might have made a mistake and that it’s the new tower where he hid the loot.”
Hurd Applegate rubbed his chin meditatively. It was evident that he was impressed by the boys’ story.
“So this fellow Jackley confessed to the robbery, eh?”
“He admitted everything. He had once worked around here and knew the Bayport area well. He had been hanging around the city for several days before the robbery.”
“Well,” Applegate said slowly, “if he said he hid the stuff in the old tower and it’s not there, it must be in the new tower, as you say.”
“Will you let us search it?” Joe asked eagerly.
“Yes, and I’ll help. I’m just as eager to find the jewels and bonds as you are. Come on, boys!”
Hurd Applegate led the way across the mansion toward a door which opened into the new tower. Now that the man was in a good mood, Frank decided that this was an opportune time to tell him about the trap door. He did so, offering to pay for the repair.
“Oh, that’s all right,” said Mr. Applegate. “I’ll have it fixed. In fact, Robinson—Oh, I forgot. I’ll get a carpenter.”
He said no more, but quickened his steps. Frank and Joe grinned. Old Mr. Applegate had not even reprimanded them!
The mansion owner opened the door to the new tower and stepped into a corridor. Frank and Joe, tingling with excitement, followed.
CHAPTER XVI
A Surprise
THE rooms in the new tower had been furnished when it was built. But only on rare occasions when the Applegates had visitors were the rooms occupied, the owner stated.
In the first one Frank, Joe, and Mr. Applegate found nothing, although they looked carefully in closets, bureaus, highboys, and under the large pieces of furniture. They even turned up mattresses and rugs. When they were satisfied that the loot had not been hidden there, they ascended the stairs to the room above. Again their investigation proved fruitless.
Hurd Applegate, being a quick-tempered man, fell back into his old mood. The boys’ story had convinced him, but when they had searched the rooms in the tower without success, he showed his disgust.
“It’s a hoax!” he snorted. “Adelia was right. I’ve been made a fool of! And all because of Robinson!”
“I can’t understand it!” Joe burst out. “Jackley said he hid the stuff in the tower.”
“If that fellow did hide the jewels and bonds in one of the towers,” Applegate surmised, “someone else must have come in and taken them—maybe someone working with him. Or else Robinson found the loot right after the robbery and kept it for himself.”
“I’m sure Mr. Robinson wouldn’t do that,” Joe objected.
“Then where did he get the nine hundred dollars? Explain that. Robinson won’t!”
On the way back to the main part of the mansion, Hurd Applegate elaborated on his theory. The fact that the loot had not been found seemed to convince him all over again that Robinson was involved in some way.
“Like as not he was in league with Jackley!” the man stated flatly.
Again Frank and Joe protested that the ex-caretaker did not hobnob with criminals. Neverthe-: less, the Hardys were puzzled, disappointed, and alarmed. Their search had only resulted in implicating Mr. Robinson more deeply in the mystery.
Back in the hallway of the main house they met Adelia Applegate, who crowed triumphantly when she saw the search party returning empty-handed. “Didn’t I tell you?” she cried. “Hurd Applegate, you’ve let these boys make a fool of you!”
She escorted the Hardys to the front door, while her brother, shaking his head perplexedly, went back to his study.
“We sure messed things up, Frank,” Joe declared, as they walked toward their motorcycles. “I feel like a dud rocket.”
“Me too.”
They hurried home to tell their father the disappointing news. Fenton Hardy was amazed to hear that the stolen valuables had not been located in either tower. “You’re sure you went over the place thoroughly?”
“Every inch of it. There wasn’t a sign of the loot. From the dust in the old tower, I’d say no one had been there for ages,” Frank replied.
“Strange,” the detective muttered. “I’m sure Jackley wasn’t lying. He had absolutely nothing to gain by deceiving me. ‘I hid it in the old tower.’ Those were his very words. And what could he mean but the old tower of Tower Mansion? And why should he be so careful to say the old tower? Since he was familiar with Bayport, he probably knew that the mansion has two towers, the old and the new.”
“Of course, it may be that we didn’t search thoroughly enough,” Joe remarked. “The loot could be hidden under the flooring or behind a movable wall panel. We didn’t look there.”
“That’s the only solution,” Mr. Hardy agreed. “I’m still not satisfied that the stolen property isn’t there. I’m going to ask Applegate to permit another search of both towers. And now, I think your mother wants you to do an errand downtown.”
Mrs. Hardy explained what she wanted and Frank and Joe were soon on their motorcycles again. When the boys reached the business section of Bayport they found that Jackley’s confession had already become known. The local radio station had broadcast it in the afternoon news program and people everywhere were discussing it.
Detective Smuff walked along the street looking as if he would bite the head off the first person who mentioned the case to him. When he saw the Hardy boys he glowered.
“Well,” he grunted, “I hear you got the stuff back.”
“I wish we had,” Frank said glumly.
“What!” the detective cried out, brightening at once. “You didn’t get it? I thought they said on the radio that this fellow Jackley had told your father where he hid it.”
“He did. But how did the news leak out?”
“Jackley’s door wasn’t closed all the time. One of the other patients who was walking by the room heard the confession and spilled it. So you didn’t find the loot after all! Ha-ha! That’s a good one! Didn’t Jackley say the stuff was hidden in the old tower? What more do you need?”
“Well, it wasn’t there!” Joe retorted hotly. “Jackley must have made a mistake!”
“Jackley made a mistake!” Smuff continued cheerfully. “It looks like the joke’s on you fellows and your father!” The would-be sleuth went on down the street, chuckling to himself.
When Frank and Joe returned home they found that Mr. Hardy had been in touch with Hurd Applegate and had convinced him that a more detailed search of the towers would be advisable.
“Boys,” he said, “we’ll go there directly after supper. I think we’d better not wait until tomorrow.”
At seven o’clock the detective and his sons presented themselves at the Tower Mansion. Hurd Applegate met them at the door.
“I’m letting you make this search,” he said as he led them toward the old tower, “but I’m convinced you won’t find anything. I’ve talked the case over with Chief Collig. He’s inclined to think that Robinson is behind it all and I’m sure he is.”
“But how about Jackley’s confession?” Mr. Hardy asked him.
“The chief says that could be a blind. Jackley did it to protect Robinson. They were working together.”
“I know it looks bad for Robinson,” Mr. Hardy admitted, “but I want to give the towers another close examination. I heard Jackley make the confession and I don’t believe he was lying.”
“Maybe. Maybe. But I’m telling you it was a hoax.”
“I’ll believe that only if I don’t find anything inside or outside either tower,” Mr. Hardy declared, his mouth set in a grim line.
“Well, come on, let’s get started,” Hurd Applegate said, unlocking the door leading to the old tower.
Eagerly the four set to work. They started at the top of the old tower and worked downward. Their investigation left no possibility untouched. All the walls were tapped for hollow sounds which might indicate secret hiding places. The floors were examined closely for signs of any recent disturbance to the wood. But the missing jewels and bonds were not located. Finally the group reached the ground floor again.
“Nothing to do but go on to the new tower,” Mr. Hardy commented briefly.
“I’ll have to rest and eat something before I do any more,” Hurd Applegate said wearily. He led the way to the dining room where sandwiches and milk had been set out. “Help yourselves,” he invited. He himself took only crackers and milk when they all sat down.
After the brief stop for refreshment, the Hardys and the mansion owner turned their attention to the new tower. Again they searched carefully. Walls and partitions were tapped and floors were sounded. Every bit of furniture was minutely examined. Not an inch of space escaped the scrutiny of the detective and his helpers.
As the search drew to a close and the loot still had not been found, Mr. Hardy remarked, “It certainly looks as if the stolen property was never hidden here by Jackley. And furthermore, there’s no evidence that if he did hide it here, anyone came in to take it away.”
“You mean,” said Frank, “it’s proof that Mr. Robinson did not come in here?”
“Exactly.”
“Maybe not,” Mr. Applegate conceded. “But it still doesn’t prove he wasn’t in cahoots with the thief!”
“I’m not going to give up this search yet,” Mr. Hardy said determinedly. “Perhaps the loot was hidden somewhere outside the old tower.”
He explained that it would be difficult to examine the grounds properly at night. “With your permission, Mr. Applegate, my sons and I will return at sunrise tomorrow morning and start work again.” As the owner reluctantly nodded his assent, Mr. Hardy turned to Frank and Joe and smiled. “We ought to be able to prove our point before schooltime.”
The boys, who had had no time to prepare any homework, reminded their father that a note from him to the principal would be a great help. The detective smiled, and as soon as they reached home he wrote one out, then said good night.
Frank and Joe felt as if their eyes had hardly closed when they opened them again to see their father standing between their beds. “Time to get up if you want to be in on the search,” he announced.
The boys blinked sleepily, then sprang out of bed. Showers awakened them fully and they dressed quickly. Mrs. Hardy was in the kitchen when they entered it and breakfast was ready. The sun was just rising over a distant hill.
“Everything hot this morning,” Mrs. Hardy said. “It’s chilly outside.”
The menu included hot applesauce, oatmeal, poached eggs on toast, and cocoa. Breakfast was eaten almost in silence to avoid any delay, and within twenty minutes the three Hardy sleuths were on their way.
“I see you put spades in the car, Dad,” Frank remarked. “I take it we’re going to do some digging.”
“Yes, if we don’t locate the loot hidden above ground some place.”
When the Hardys reached Tower Mansion they instituted their hunt without notifying the Applegates, who, they were sure, were still asleep. Everything in the vicinity of both towers was scrutinized. Boulders were overturned, the space under the summerhouse examined by flashlight, every stone in the masonry tested to see if it could be dislodged. Not a clue turned up.
“I guess we dig,” Frank stated finally.
He chose a bed of perennial bushes at the foot of the old tower where there had been recent planting, and pushed one of the spades in deep with his foot. The tool hit an obstruction. Excitedly Frank shoveled away the dirt around the spot. In half a minute he
gave a cry of delight.
“A chest! I’ve found a buried chest!”
CHAPTER XVII
An Unexpected Find
THROWING out the dirt in great spadefuls, Frank uncovered the chest completely. It was about two feet long, six inches wide, and a foot deep.
“The treasure!” Joe cried out, running up.
Mr. Hardy was at his son’s heels and looked in amazement at Frank’s discovery. The boy lifted the chest out of the hole and instantly began to raise the lid on which there was no lock.
Everyone held his breath. Had the Hardys really uncovered the jewels and securities stolen from the Applegates? Frank flung back the lid.
The three sleuths stared at the contents. They had never been more surprised in their lives. Finally Joe found his voice.
“Nothing but a lot of flower bulbs!”
The first shock of disappointment over, the detective and his sons burst into laughter. The contents of the chest were such a far cry from what they had expected that now the situation seemed ridiculous.
“Well, one thing is sure,” said Frank. “Red Jackley never buried this chest. I wonder who did?”
“I can answer that,” a voice behind them replied, and the Hardys turned to see Hurd Applegate, clad in bathrobe and slippers, walking toward them.
“Good morning, Mr. Applegate,” the boys chorused, and their father added, “You see we’re on the job. For a couple of moments we thought we had found your stolen property.”
Hurd Applegate’s face took on a stem look. “You didn’t find my securities,” he said, “but maybe you have found a clue to the thief. Robinson buried that chest full of bulbs. That’s what he’s done with Adelia’s jewelry and my securities! He’s buried them some place, but I’d be willing to bet anything it wasn’t on the grounds here.”
Frank, realizing the man was not in a good humor this morning, tried to steer the conversation away from the stolen valuables. “Mr. Applegate,” he said, “why did Mr. Robinson bury these flower bulbs here?”
The owner of Tower Mansion gave a little snort. “That man’s nutty about unusual flowers. He sent to Europe for these bulbs. They have to be kept in a cool, dark place for several months, so he decided to bury them. He’s always doing something queer like that. Why, do you know what he tried to get me to do? Put up a greenhouse here on the property so he could raise all kinds of rare flowers.”
The Tower Treasure Page 9