"It isn't large at all. I don't own any of the land around here. I sold it over a year ago, all except the house, the barn, and a little plot of ground for my vegetable garden."

"I hope you got a good price for it," said Aunt Gertrude briskly.

"Well, the price was all right, but I didn't get much cash. Five hundred dollars down and the rest on mortgage. I sold it through my lawyer to a man named Wortman. He's living in that remodeled cottage over beyond the cow pasture."

"Five hundred dollars down!" exclaimed Aunt Gertrude. "You were cheated."

Mrs. Trumper looked dismayed. "But I got the five hundred dollars. In cash.''

"It wasn't enough. You should have received a couple thousand at the very least. Like as not the fellow will never pay you the rest, and 56 you're so good-natured you won't put him off the place. Has he been keeping up his interest payments?"

"Well," confessed the widow, "to tell you the truth he hasn't paid anything since he made the down payment. But I suppose he's had hard luck-----"

"Hard luck, fiddlesticks!" sniffed Aunt Gertrude. "I "I think I'll go and see this Wortle or think I'll go and see this Wortle or Wortbuster or whatever his name is. I'll give him a piece of my mind.''

Mrs. Trumper seemed dismayed by this suggestion. "Please, Miss Hardy-I'd rather you didn't," she said tremulously. "It might only make things worse. I'm sure he'll pay me as soon as he can."

"Well, I think you're foolish. If I were in your shoes, I'd go over there and lay down the law.

I 'd make him pay up or get out!'' Aunt Gertrude viciously speared the meat on her plate, a grim scowl on her face.

"Doesn't he make any money from the farm?" inquired Frank.

"He hasn't actually done much farming," said Mrs. Trumper.

" Ha! I thought so!" Aunt Gertrude glared suspiciously. "If he doesn't do any farming, why did he buy a farm?"

"He says he can't get help. It's almost impossible to find a good hired man nowadays."

The woman did not seem to want to discuss the subject further, so they went on to other topics. After the meal, Frank and Joe sauntered into the garden. Frank gazed across the fields toward the Wortman cottage.

"Let's pay the man a visit. I'm interested in him."

"As Aunt Gertrude says, if he doesn't do any farming, why did he buy a farm? Besides, maybe he could give us some help on the Grable case."

'' No harm in talking to him, anyway,'' agreed Joe. "Come on."

They struck off across the fields. As they approached the little frame cottage, they saw a man sitting on the low porch. He eyed the boys suspiciously as they drew near.

"Mr. Wortman?" said Frank.

The man nodded. He was a hard-fisted, middle-aged person with an underslung jaw.

"That's my name," he said in a loud voice. "What do you want?"

"We understand you need help on the farm------"

A loud laugh interrupted Frank. It came from a man who had been standing just inside the screen door. There was something strangely familiar about that laugh.

"Look who's applyin' for a job!" The door opened, and the speaker stepped out.

"Boots!" exclaimed Joe in surprise.

It was indeed the surly man of the underwater section. He emerged from the cottage scowling.

"Don't waste any time on this pair, Hal," he 58 said. "They were at the S. E. F. this morning. I guess they've been fired by now. No good, either of them."

"We haven't been fired," Frank spoke up.

"Beat it," said Wortman harshly. "If I need help here, I'll ask for it."

"Do you live here, Boots?" asked Joe, ignoring the man's insulting manner.

'' Get out of here!'' shouted Wortman. Did that old lady you're staying with send you kids over here ? Well, tell her not to send you again 1 Understand!"

CHAPTER VII.

THE EARTH TREMBLES.

"NiCE people around here!" said Frank, as the Hardy boys left Hal Wortman's place and went out toward the main road.

"I'd like to tell that man a few things," grumbled Joe.

"It's just as well you didn't. No sense in making enemies. Don't forget," Frank reminded him, "that we're just a couple of stupid farmhands."

"Maybe those men know who we are," suggested Joe. "Don't ask me why they want to get rid of us, but I have a feeling Boots and Wortman are a pair to watch.''

"We're going to have a fine time watching them, and Jenkins, and Mr. Grable's silkworms, all at once!"

"And don't forget the unexplained torch over by the cliffs."

The brothers came out on the highway near the Grable place. Joe suggested that since it was still light, it might be a good idea to explore the fields around the greenhouses.

"It was too dark to look for clues last night. And after all, someone broke that window. If he came across the fields, he probably left footprints."

"It's worth looking into," Frank agreed. "But I have an idea-----"

Whatever he was about to say was left unspoken, for a strange and frightening thing happened. The earth suddenly shook beneath their feet. The very trees and fences seemed to quiver and tremble.

The Hardy boys stared at each other in amazement. The quaking of the ground was not p.r.o.nounced or violent enough to throw them off balance, but there was no disputing the fact that it was real. After a few seconds the queer sensation pa.s.sed. Everything was as it had been before.

"Earthquake!" gasped Frank.

"I thought I was imagining things. You felt it, too?"

"Of course. The ground shook."

"Do you really think it was an earthquake?"

"What else could it have been?"

"It might have been blasting,'' Joe suggested doubtfully. "Maybe the men working on the new road set off a charge of dynamite."

"Do you think we would have felt the blast way over here? We'd better get back home.

Aunt Gertrude will be frightened out of her wits."

Frank hurried off down the road toward Trumper's. He knew Aunt Gertrude. She was afraid of no man alive, but a flash of lightning 61 could throw her into a convulsion. He hated to think of what effect an earthquake, though small, would have.

"She'll probably be packed up and leaving for Bayport by now," chuckled Joe. "We'd better hustle.''

They found the household m a state of great excitement. The widow Trumper was lying on a sofa in the living room. Aunt Gertrude was fanning the widow with a mail order catalogue.

"My goodness, we'll all be killed in our beds," the boys' relative exclaimed. "I think I'll gc right back to Bayport."

"Don't leave me, Miss Hardy. Oh, please don't leave me,'' implored the widow. '' If that earthquake comes back, I '11 die of fright 1''

"If those boys would only come back-oh, there you are!" exclaimed Aunt Gertrude as her nephews came in. "Where in the world have you two been? Leaving us here alone! It's a mercy the house didn't fall down."

"What happened, Aunty?" asked Joe.

"The house shook, the dishes rattled, I thought the chimney was going to fall down. I distinctly saw the barn keel halfway over and straighten up again!" Aunt Gertrude proceeded into a highly-colored account of the event. By the time she had concluded, the boys had the impression that the San Francisco earthquake of 1906 was a mere shimmy compared to the terrible experience the women had just undergone.

62 "Call the police. Don't just stand there!" she ordered Frank. "Make yourself useful. Do something about it."

"But, Aunty, you can't do anything about an earthquake. Especially after it's over."

"How do you know it's over? It will probably come back. Call the police."

To humor his relative, Frank went to the telephone and put through a call to the Bayport Police Department.

"Earthquake?" said a bored voice. "We haven't any record of an earthquake here."

"He says there wasn't any," the boy called into the other room, and telephoned another number. "I'm going to see if anything happened at the Grable place," he decided.

Much to his disappointment, he heard the voice of Archibald Jenkins on the wire.

"Grable Greenhouses-Jenkins speaking."

In a low, disguised voice the boy said, "I'd like to talk to Mr. Grable, please."

"Who is this?"

"I'm one of the hands at the S. E. F.," drawled Frank. "Me and another of the boys was over to your place yesterday bein' showed around by your boss."

"Oh, yes, I remember," returned Jenkins coldly. "I'm sorry, but Mr. Grable can't come to the phone just now."

"Just thought I'd call up and see how you fellers made out durin' the earthquake."

Archibald Jenkins's voice came over the wire.

63 "Oh, there was a little damage. A couple of windows broken. Nothing of any consequence," he said airily. Then apparently Asa Grable himself came to the telephone, for Frank heard a whispered argument at the other end of the line. "-just one of those confounded boys who were here yesterday."

"I'll talk to him,'' said the scientist. 'h.e.l.lo -this is Mr. Grable."

"I'm calling to inquire whether you've had any trouble at the greenhouses," said Frank in his natural voice.

Grable's reply was guarded, so Frank judged that Archibald Jenkins was still within earshot. "Oh, very well-very well at the moment," the scientist said vaguely. '' Everything is all right just now-considering. I'm afraid I can't tell you any more than that."

"I understand, sir. If you need us, you can always reach us at Mrs. Trumper's."

"That's fine. Thank you for calling." The receiver clicked.

Frank turned away from the telephone. It had not been a very satisfactory conversation, but at least he knew there had been no fresh developments of importance in regard to any thefts from the greenhouses.

"What did he say?" demanded Aunt Gertrude.

'' Nothing much. If it was an earthquake, apparently it didn't do much damage."

Aunt Gertrude was not to be deprived of her 64 earthquake as easily as as that. To escape her, the boys went outside again, promising to that. To escape her, the boys went outside again, promising to race back home if the ground should begin to shake again.

"Aunt Gertrude will talk about this for years," chuckled Joe. "It's odd it wasn't felt in Bayport."

"That's why I don't think it was an earthquake. ''

"Then what was it?"

"Just another mystery for us to figure out. Well, it's too dark now to look for footprints at Grable's place. Let's go down to Midvale and have some ice cream."

Midvale was a small village about a quarter of a mile down the road. It consisted of a few dwellings, a garage, a general store which also housed the post office, and a small ice cream parlor, which was open for business in the summer months. As the Hardys entered the place, they noticed a tall, clean-cut lad of about twenty perched on a high stool at the counter, sipping a soda. He glanced up when Frank and Joe came in, then stared at them openmouthed.

"Well, look who's here!" he exclaimed. "Just the fellows I wanted to see!"

The Hardy boys were equally astonished.

"d.i.c.k Ames!" cried Frank, recognizing the youth at the counter.

"Of all people!" cried Joe, beaming with pleasure. There was a time, in the Hardys'

second year at Bayport High School, when big 65 d.i.c.k Ames had been one of their closest friends. "Why, we haven't seen you since you went to college.''

They slapped one another on the shoulders. It was a noisy reunion. '' This calls for sodas for all of us!" declared Frank. "You'll have to have another, d.i.c.k."