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became annoyed and raised his voice once more. “Now look, give it back!”
    â€œI don’t have it here,” Chidsee replied pettishly.
    â€œWhere is it?”
    â€œDon’t worry, you’ll get it!”
    â€œWe need it now, uncle or no uncle. Don’t forget, I have a deal cooking. You better shape up or else!”
    Just then the phone rang. The stranger picked it up, and after a crisp “hello” talked low. The Hardys could barely make out what was being said.
    â€œA couple of Senecas have been spying on us,” he said. There was silence for a few seconds. “We’ve got to be careful and wind this up fast.”
    Silence once more. Then the door slammed and the visitor was gone.
    Frank tugged his brother’s arm and they hurried around to the front to get a look at the man. But he was already in his car and sped off into the night.
    Frank and Joe returned to their room by way of the window and discussed the case.
    â€œThat sounded a lot like the guy who visited Lendo Wallace tonight,” Joe remarked.
    â€œIt must have been,” Frank agreed. “He said that the Senecas were spying on him.”
    â€œAnd he probably knows that Rod Jimerson and others are suspicious of Wallace because he’s done nothing about the mask thefts.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with Wallace, anyway?” Joe asked, frowning. “We know he’s made some kind of deal with the fellow who’s also a buddy of Chidsee’s—but what is it?”
    Frank shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he’s stealing the missing masks himself! He might even have taken Spoon Mouth!”
    â€œHe must need money awful bad,” Joe said, “to betray his own people.”
    â€œI don’t know. Come on. Let’s hit the sack,” said Frank. “I’m weary.”
    In pajamas once again, the boys were soon fast asleep.
    When they opened the draw curtains the next morning, the sun streamed into their room. They had slept until nine o’clock! Yawning and squinting, Joe glanced down the motel facade to Chidsee’s suite. The Cadillac was gone.
    â€œThey’ve flown the coop already, Frank,” he reported, and opened the door. The maid walked by. Joe beckoned to her. “Have Mr. Chidsee and his chauffeur left?” he asked.
    The chubby woman, carrying a vacuum and a dustcloth, said Yes. She was going to make up the rooms for the day.
    Joe said quickly, “My brother and I will be dressed in a minute, and we might have company later. Will you make ours first?”
    â€œSure. I’ll be right back.” The maid left. Frank and Joe quickly splashed cold water on their faces, put on their clothes, and walked out. Casually they sauntered to Chidsee’s suite. The door stood ajar.
    â€œOkay, Joe. Now’s our chance,” Frank said and slipped into the living room.
    Joe followed close behind. Quickly they took in the scene. Crushed cigarette butts littered the floor, empty soda cans stood on the table, and in the adjoining room the beds were unmade and towels strewn about.
    â€œNeat people,” Joe commented sarcastically as they scouted the place for possible clues. Nothing turned up in the living room, and the bedroom proved equally void of any personal belongings.
    Joe checked the blotter on the writing desk. No ink marks were on it. Frank, meanwhile, picked through the wastebasket. As he took out a folded newspaper, a crumpled piece of paper fell out from between the pages.
    Then they heard footsteps outside. Frank quickly pulled Joe into the bedroom. The footsteps stopped in front of the apartment door.
    â€œMaybe it’s the maid,” Joe said. “Wouldn’t it be embarrassing if she found us here?”
    â€œIt sounded like a man’s steps,” Frank replied, “and it would be even more embarrassing if it’s Chidsee himself.”
    â€œLet’s try the bathroom window,” Joe advised.
    They heard