“Right. In other cases they threatened the guards to let them in. They used a different approach each time, and that’s what made the case so hard to crack.”
“There’s one more thing that bothers me,” Frank said. “What caused that shell hole in the Yellow Parrot?”
Mr. Hardy grinned. “I found that out, too. She was shot at by a Central American smuggler patrol boat one night, but got away without being identified.”
At that moment Chet wandered into the museum. He had been dozing in th squad car and was rubbing his eyes. “Find any clues?” he asked with a yawn.
“A few,” Frank quipped. “You’re a little bit late.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up? I was supposed to help you with this case.
Mr. Hardy smiled. “We’re all pretty tired. Let’s head for home. The mystery is ended.”
The boys nodded. Frank and Joe had no idea at that time that a new mystery would soon take up all their time, namely The Disappearing Floor.
It was morning when they arrived in Bayport. Mr. Morton greeted them when they dropped off Chet at the farm.
“I’m glad to see my son’s back,” he said. “I’ve lots of work for him.”
“But I need a chance to recuperate!” Chet protested.
“Okay,” his father replied. “I’ll give you till tomorrow. Then you’d better start turning over a patch of crabgrass on the front lawn.”
“That should be right down your alley, Chet.” Joe laughed. “You might be lucky and discover another sugar bowl!”
The Twisted Claw Page 12