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muffled voices, then someone walked away from the suite. The boys listened intently for a moment, then went back into the living room. Frank picked up the piece of paper, hastened to the desk, and spread it flat.
    On the paper, written in pencil, were the words Prof called, and a phone number.
    Frank whistled softly. “What a clue, Joe!”
    Just then the boys heard a noise behind them. They wheeled around to see Lendo Wallace framed in the doorway. His hand went to the knife in his belt!

CHAPTER X
    Surprise Connection
    STARING at them in the doorway, Lendo Wallace seemed more startled than the Hardys. Had the Indian expected to see Elmont Chidsee?
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” he finally asked.
    â€œLooking around,” Frank replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
    Wallace’s hand dropped from the knife haft and he stepped toward the Hardys with an inquisitive stare. “This isn’t your room, is it?”
    â€œNo. It belongs to Elmont Chidsee and his chauffeur.”
    â€œI assume you were looking for him,” Joe put in. “Chidsee and his buddy who was here last night, perhaps?”
    His bold approach had the desired effect. Wallace’s eyes widened and his lips moved but he said nothing. As he turned to go, Joe shot another question.
    â€œWhy the knife in your belt, Mr. Wallace?”
    â€œI’m going to cut a tree; that is, cut a mask in a tree.” The Indian’s voice seemed less hostile.
    â€œI understand that’s an ancient art with the Six Nations,” Frank said, trying to draw out the Seneca.
    It seemed to be the right approach. Lendo Wallace relaxed a little and began to talk about the art of carving false faces. As he spoke, all three walked from Chidsee’s apartment and stood outside.
    â€œEach mask,” Wallace said, “is designed to chase certain evil spirits.”
    â€œI’ve seen a very frightening one,” Frank remarked. “It had a crooked nose and a sideways mouth.”
    â€œYou mean Old Broken Nose. He’s quite fierce, especially with the horsetail hair.”
    â€œSo that was it,” Frank thought. “The streaming white hair which scared Chet actually was a horsetail!” He probed deeper with his next statement.
    â€œA friend of ours was frightened by a Broken Nose mask one night!”
    Wallace looked blank. Frank concluded that he was not the one who had been at the Rideaus’ barn during their first visit.
    Wallace continued with his favorite subject. “Young Indians don’t care about masks any more,” he said sadly. “They aren’t interested. You send them out to cut some wood and they don’t know willow from bass.”
    Joe looked at the Indian’s jalopy. It was the same year as Chet’s. “We have a friend who has a car just like this,” Joe said with a grin. “Does yours backfire much?”
    For the first time Wallace smiled. “Enough to scare horses,” he replied.
    Now the chill was thawing more. Frank asked Wallace what he did for a living. The Indian told him that he made snow snakes—long sticks which boys hurled over the ice in a game; also lacrosse sticks, turtle-shell rattles, and headdresses.
    â€œOur people play a lot of lacrosse,” he said. “The game originated with Northern Indians. This work keeps me busy all winter, and I sell my wares in the summertime.”
    Suddenly animation left the man’s face as if a switch had been turned off. He fixed both boys with his gaze and said icily, “Why were you spying on me last night?”
    Frank and Joe were taken aback. So he had seen their faces at the window! Yet he had not given them away!
    Caught flat-footed, they fumbled for a reply, but Wallace spared them the effort. He jumped into his car, started the motor, and sped out of the motel drive onto the main highway.
    Frank shook his head. “Joe, that man is an enigma.”
    â€œYou said it! I certainly