Read Online The Clue in the Embers by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online Page B

subject of a brother indirectly. “Do you have relatives in Guatemala?” he asked casually.
    â€œAh, yes. Many. But I’m—how do you say?—hundred per cent American now,” Valez replied in his soft Spanish accent.
    â€œAnd relatives in this country?” Joe asked with a disarming smile. “For instance, do you have a brother in the United States?”
    The man’s pleasant manner was ruffled for a moment. He dropped his eyes and his jaw tightened. Then he recovered his composure. Smiling, he said, “No. I have no brother in this country.”
    Further conversation led nowhere, and soon they thanked the man for his cooperation and left.
    â€œWhat do you make of him?” Joe asked Frank on the way back home.
    â€œHe seemed on the level until we asked about his brother. I think we might be closer to the truth with our theory than we expected.”
    â€œLet’s see if Dad found out anything worthwhile from Immigration,” Joe said.
    When the boys entered their home, Mr. Hardy called them into the living room. “Your man on Weller Street is a citizen,” he reported. “He’s been here more than five years.”
    â€œDoes he have a brother in the United States?” Frank asked.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI’ll bet he does, and he’s here illegally,” Joe remarked.
    â€œThat’s possible.”
    Just then Mrs. Hardy appeared and announced dinner.
    When they had finished eating, the boys went into a huddle with their father on what angle of the mystery to tackle next.
    â€œI believe we ought to wait for a report from Sam Radley,” Mr. Hardy said. “Give yourselves a rest.”
    His sons took the advice and went to bed early. As they were dressing the next morning, Mrs. Hardy called to say that they were wanted on the phone. “It’s Chet,” she added.
    Frank hurried to his mother’s bedroom to answer on the extension. “F-Frank,” Chet said in a quaking voice, “I just got a letter with a warning in it. Even has some ashes. The message says, ‘You, too, are now cursed!’
    â€œFrank,” Chet groaned, “when I offered to help you fellows, I didn’t bargain for anything like this!”
    Frank said he was sorry and advised Chet to stay close to the Morton farm. “If you have to go to town, make sure you don’t try it alone.”
    Just as Frank hung up, Joe was taking in the morning mail. A suspicious-looking envelope addressed to “Mr. F. Hardy and Sons” was among the letters. Quickly he slit the envelope, which was postmarked Bayport. It contained a quantity of ashes!
    â€œDad, come here quick! You too, Frank!” When they reached the hallway, Joe read the printed note aloud: “‘We have sent warnings to your friends Tony Prito and Chet Morton. This is the last warning. Stop your sleuthing in this case or harm will come to you.’ ”
    â€œNo need to microtome these ashes,” Frank said. “Central American mahogany again!” He held up one unburned bit of the familiar wood.
    Meanwhile, at the Morton farm, Chet’s pretty, dark-haired sister Iola was worried about him. She had never seen him more nervous. And she too was upset over the note. Hoping to take her brother’s mind off the threat, she proposed a steak roast that evening at Elkin Amusement Park.
    â€œWe’ll go early and have some fun on the rides before we eat.”
    Iola, who was usually Joe’s date, soon extracted promises from Callie Shaw, the attractive blonde who often dated Frank, and two other girls, Maria Santos and Judy Rankin, to come along. Then she invited Tony and the Hardys.
    â€œSwell idea!” agreed Joe, who answered the phone. “We haven’t seen you girls for a long time.”
    â€œWe’ve reserved fireplace Number Twelve for our picnic,” Iola explained. “An attendant will watch our food and lay the fire for