Read Online The Secret Panel by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online

hall.
    They threw their weight against it and after several attempts the upper half gave way. Another heave against the door made an opening large enough for them to crawl through. Seconds later they left the house.
    The street was quiet and no one was in sight.
    â€œWhere’s your car?” Frank asked Chet.
    â€œI parked around the corner.”
    â€œNo wonder we didn’t see it,” Joe said. “We were wondering if we had the right address.”
    The boys drove to the Morton farm. Frank and Joe went inside with their chum and Mrs. Morton served milk and apple pie.
    â€œOkay, Chet, let’s have your story from the beginning,” Frank urged when Mrs. Morton had left the room.
    Chet told them he had received a mysterious telephone call earlier that evening. He was told to go immediately to 47 Parker Street to see about the dory he had bought.
    â€œI thought there was a chance I’d get my money back,” he explained, “so I drove over there. When I arrived, the guy who sold me the boat said he wanted it back. At first I didn’t let him know it was at the bottom of the bay.”
    â€œWhat did you tell him?” Joe asked.
    â€œThat I wanted to keep it. He glared at me and said I certainly was going to sell it back to him. I was hoping you would come any moment, so I kept putting him off. He got madder by the minute.”
    â€œI wonder why he wants that old tub back,” Joe said. “The story about his brother sounds phony.”
    â€œI don’t know.” Chet shrugged. “But when I finally told him it had sunk, boy did he rave! I tried to get out but he locked the front door. He made me describe the place where it had gone under—and then the next thing I knew, he gave me a terrific blast on the head. I blacked out.”
    Before they left, the Hardys promised their friend they would continue looking for the stranger. It would be easier now that they had met him face to face.
    â€œWe have something to pay him back for, too,” Joe said grimly. “We don’t like to be shoved around.”
    After reporting the episode to the police, the boys headed for home. Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude had already retired when they reached their house. They were just about to go to bed when they heard their father’s key in the front door.
    â€œLet’s talk to him,” Joe urged Frank, and ran down the stairs. “Hello, Dad. How did you make out?” he asked eagerly.
    Mr. Hardy said he was a bit discouraged as far as the television burglaries were concerned. He was working on a new angle involving fingerprints.
    The three went to his study, where Frank and Joe related their experiences that day. It took some time to tell about the humming traffic light; the strange happenings at the Mead mansion; the list at Bilks’ garage and the adventures at 47 Parker Street.
    When they finished, Mr. Hardy was thoughtful. “I think we can assume your assailant locked you all in to make sure you wouldn’t try to follow him.”
    He tapped the desk with a pencil. “The fact that he made Chet describe the spot where the dory went down indicates that he certainly wants it back badly. I’m inclined to think that someone else wants that boat, and it’s not his brother.”
    â€œThe boat itself certainly can’t have any value,” Frank mused.
    â€œRight. There must be more involved.”
    Frank thought the strange Y carved on the gunwale might be a clue, and Joe reminded him about the locked box in the bow.
    Their father suggested raising the boat and examining it thoroughly. “I think the Bayport Salvage Company would do the job,” he said. “Go over there tomorrow and ask for Mr. Redfield.”
    At breakfast the next morning Mr. Hardy announced he had to see Chief Collig at headquarters about the television burglaries.
    â€œDad,” Frank said, looking disappointed, “we were hoping you’d come to