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now.”
    â€œAnd maybe Dad too,” Joe cried out excitedly.
    â€œThat’s right. I’m against just sitting and waiting for the state troopers to find him. How about asking Tony if he will lend us his motorboat, so we can investigate the foot of that cliff?”
    â€œI get you!” Joe agreed enthusiastically. “And if we pick up any information we can turn it over to the State Police and they can raid the Pollitt place!”

CHAPTER X
    A Watery tunnel
    WHEN the brothers arrived home Frank and Joe assured their mother that the State Police would soon find Mr. Hardy. Some of the anxiety left her face as she listened to her sons’ reassuring words.
    When she went to the kitchen to start preparations for supper, the boys went to phone Tony Prito. After Frank explained their plan to him, he agreed at once to let them use the Napoli, provided they took him along.
    â€œI wouldn’t miss it for anything,” he said. “But I can’t go until afternoon. Have to do some work for my dad in the morning. I’ll meet you at the boathouse at two o’clock.”
    â€œSwell, Tony. I have a job of my own in the morning.”
    Chet called a few minutes later. As Frank finished telling him about the plan, he whistled. “You fellows have got your nerve all right. But count me in, will you? I started this thing with you and I’d like to finish it. We’ve got to find your father!”
    After Chet had said good-by, Joe asked his brother, “What’s on for the morning?”
    â€œI want to go down to the waterfront and talk to Pretzel Pete again. He might have another clue, Also, I want to find out when the Marco Polo is due back here.”
    Joe nodded. “I get it. You think something may be going on then?”
    â€œRight. And if we can find Dad and lead the Coast Guard to the smugglers before the boat docks—”
    â€œBrother, that’s a big order.”
    By nine o’clock the following morning Frank and Joe were down at the Bayport docks. Pretzel Pete was not in evidence.
    â€œWe’d better be cagey about asking when the Marco Polo’s coming in,” Frank cautioned. “The smugglers probably have spies around here and we’d sure be targets.”
    Acting as if there were no problems on their minds, Frank and Joe strolled along whistling. Once they joined a group of people who were watching a sidewalk merchant. The man was demonstrating little jumping animals. Frank and Joe laughed as they bought a monkey and a kangaroo. “Iola and Callie will get a kick out of these,” Joe predicted.
    â€œSay, Frank, here comes Pretzel Pete now!” Joe whispered.
    The Hardys went up the street, saying in a loud voice in case anyone was listening, that they were hungry and glad to see Pete.
    â€œNobody can make pretzels like yours,” Joe exclaimed. “Give me a dozen. Two for my mouth and ten for my pockets.”
    As Pretzel Pete laughed and pulled out a cellophane bag to fill the order, Frank said in a whisper, “Heard anything new?”
    â€œNot a thing, son.” Pete could talk without moving his lips. “But I may know something tomorrow.”
    â€œHow come?"
    â€œThe Marco Polo’s docking real early—five A.M. I heard Ali Singh is one of the crew. I’ll try to get a line on him.”
    â€œGreat! We’ll be seeing you.”
    The boys moved off, and to avoid arousing any suspicion as to why they were in the area, headed for a famous fish market.
    â€œMother will be surprised to see our morning’s catch,” Joe said with a grin as he picked out a large bluefish.
    The brothers did not discuss the exciting information Pretzel Pete had given them until they were in the safety of their own home. Then Joe burst out, “Frank, if the Marco Polo gets offshore during the night, it’ll have to lay outside until it’s time to dock!”
    â€œAnd that’ll give those smugglers