"It's all right. Come in, fellows," the chief invited. "Daley's been over at the hospital. Sutton has regained consciousness."

"What did he say?" Frank inquired eagerly.

"He claims he doesn't know who beat him up," replied Lieutenant Daley. "Says he was. .h.i.t from behind and never saw his attacker."

"But that can't be true!" Frank protested. "The bruises I saw were mostly on his face."

"Oh, he knows who did it, all right," Lieutenant Daley agreed. "Only he's covering up for somebody.

Why should he try to protect that big fellow he tried to frame last night?"

"How about Alf?" Joe broke in. "What's his story?"

"We have Lundborg in a cell," Lieutenant Daley answered. "Of course he denies any part in the beating."

"We can't hold him much longer," put in Chief Collig. "There's no evidence against him."

"Of course not! Alf wouldn't beat up a fellow half his size," Joe declared.

"Then why did Sutton mumble Lundborg's name in his delirium?" the chief countered.

"Sutton had a grudge against Alf. It must have been on his mind," Frank suggested.

"That could be," Chief Collig conceded. "How have you two boys been making out? Any new dues on Chet or Biff? We have none."

"No, we haven't," Frank answered. "We went out to Hermit Island on a hunch this afternoon, but had no luck there, either."

"Do you know anything about that hermit, Chief?" Joe inquired.

"A little," the chief returned. "Remember him, Daley? Queer old bird. Somebody left him the whole island in a will. He said it was just the place he wanted, to get away from the crazy world!"

"Yes." The tall lieutenant chuckled. "He moved out there for good some years ago. Never let anybody land on his island."

"We found that out. He chased us off pretty fast this afternoon," Joe said.

"Wha-a-t?" drawled the lieutenant, turning for a good look at the boy.

"Who are you kidding?" Chief Collig grinned.

"What's so funny?" Joe asked. "He threatened us with a shotgun."

"That's impossible," Chief Collig said flatly. "He's dead!"

Frank and Joe looked at each other in astonishment. "Then he's a mighty spry dead man," Joe declared.

Chief Collig shook his head. "The hermit died last fall and the Coast Guard brought him back to the mainland for burial. He had no one to leave the island to, so it belongs to the state."

"Wow!" Joe cried out. "Then the man we saw isn't the real hermit and had no right to order us off."

"Right," Chief Collig agreed. "It's state property. Anyone can go there. My jurisdiction doesn't cover it.

Report this man to the Coast Guard."

"We will, if he bothers us again," Frank stated.

After leaving the police station, the young detectives walked along Bayport's main street toward Mr.

French's costume store.

"That phony hermit wasn't joking," Frank said. "He wanted us off the island and no fooling. What do you think he's up to?"

Joe stopped short and said excitedly, "What if Chet and Biff were taken to Hermit Island?"

"Then this faker might know about the kidnaping. Is he in on the game, too?"

"The old guy could be holding them prisoner," Joe went on. "That's why he chased us away! He didn't dare risk having us looking around."

"Hermit Island isn't very far away from Shantytown," Frank said. "The rubber mask we found could have floated out from one place as well as from the other, depending on the tide."

"But how about the pieces of the boys' costumes the police found among the shacks?" Joe asked, perplexed. "How do they fit in with the Hermit Island theory?"

"Chet and Biff could've been transported to the island from Shantytown," reasoned Frank.

As he spoke, the brothers came to the costume shop. "I hope Mr. French is here," Frank said. "We'll ask him why he-"

The boys suddenly gasped and stared in amazement at the big display window of the store. In it were a gorilla and a magician costume!

"The same kind of suits we were wearing the night Biff and Chet disappeared!" Frank cried out.

"Yes," Joe agreed in high excitement. "And that was the night of the bank robbery!"

CHAPTER XIV.

Signal Three "THERE'S something queer about this costume store," Frank said positively. "Maybe the bank robbers got their masks here!"

"And Mr. French came to our house in the middle of the night to tell us about it, then lost his nerve," Joe added.

"Why are the same costumes in this window as those we wore?" Frank wondered. "Are they a signal to somebody?"

"There's one way to find out," Joe replied. "We'll ask Mr. French himself." He pushed the heavy gla.s.s door.

It was locked. Peering inside the store, the boys saw that it was deserted. A shaft of light from the back room pierced the late-afternoon shadows within. Joe banged on the heavy gla.s.s with his knuckles but no one came.

"Let's try the back entrance," Frank muttered.

An alley separated the costume store from the next building. The boys slipped along this cobbled pa.s.sageway to a dingy yard behind the shop. Quietly they stepped up to the rear door. Voices could be heard inside.

As Joe raised his fist to knock, Frank grabbed his arm. "Wait! Listen!"

A man's voice droned on indistinguishably, then snapped out a single, sharp word.

"Kidnap!"

Breathless, Frank and Joe strained to hear more.

"You fools!" said a new voice derisively.

A third speaker broke in harshly. The phrase "no second mistake" rasped out clearly.

". . . signal three . . ." came another s.n.a.t.c.h.

The Hardys listened intently but were unable to catch any more of the conversation.

Silently Frank beckoned Joe into the alley. "I have a hunch!" he said. "Chet was wearing a gorilla suit just like mine. What if he and Biff were kidnaped in place of you and me?"

Joe's eyes widened with excitement. "Then the kidnapers are the bank robbers-and they would still be out to get us!" he exclaimed. "That's what they meant by 'no second mistake'!"

Frank nodded. "They're probably holding Chet and Biff because they're afraid to let them go!"

"But why were they after us in the first place?" Joe asked, puzzled.

"I don't know," Frank admitted. "But I have a plan. Come on! We must act fast!"

The boys ran from the alley and hailed a pa.s.sing taxi. When they reached home, the brothers found that their father had just returned and was in his study. Fenton Hardy listened in concern and amazement to his sons' discovery.

"How I'd like to pick up those thugs and question them!" he exclaimed. "But that would only tip them off."

"And we haven't enough evidence to hold them," Frank added.

Mr. Hardy frowned. "The best we can do is put a police tail on them and hope to find out more that way." He reached for the phone.

"Wait, Dad!" Frank pleaded. "I have a scheme. Joe and I will go back to the shop. We'll let them kidnap us. Then Collig's men will really have something on the gang and can nab them."

"I don't know," their father considered. "It's plenty risky."

"Please, Dad," Joe urged. "The faster we crack the case, the sooner we'll find Chet and Biff."

Fenton Hardy was concerned for his sons' safety, but was proud of their willingness to risk capture for the sake of their missing chums.

"All right," he agreed. "I'll alert the police. We'll station ourselves outside the store. As soon as the gang tries to take you away, we'll close in!"

"Good," said Frank, satisfied.

As their father dialed headquarters, he checked his watch and said to Frank and Joe, "Give Collig and me twenty minutes from now to get set. Then go into the store."

The boys sped downtown on their motorcycles, parked near the costume shop, and slipped down the alley. The men were still talking inside the back room of the store. The brothers waited, eyes fixed on their wrist watches.

"Now!" Frank whispered at last. "Let's take the chance that 'signal three' means knock three times!"

The boys walked to the back door and Frank gave three hard raps.

Immediately the voices became silent. A lock clicked and the door swung a few inches inward. A man's face peered out at the boys. He was the speedboat pilot with the slicked-back hair-the one Mr. Caine had identified as Ben Stark!

Frank and Joe gave no sign of recognition. Stark's eyes, however, widened in astonishment.

"I know the store is closed," Frank said to him, "but we need something desperately. We're the Hardy boys. May we come in?"

Stark's expression changed from amazement to oily politeness. "Of course, boys!" he answered, and swung the door wide. "Come right inside!"

Frank and Joe pa.s.sed into a dim storeroom, lighted by a single bulb overhead. On one side, two tough-looking men they had never seen before eyed them in stunned silence. Ben Stark closed the door and stood with his back against it.

"So you are the famous Hardy boys!" he said, smiling widely. "Of course I've heard of you, but I don't think we've met before."

Stark looked hard at them, but the boys' expressions betrayed nothing. He indicated his companions.

"This is Mr. Moran and Mr. Duke," he said. Moran nodded. Duke, a lanky, pale-faced man, merely stared.

"Haven't I heard that you've been working on a new case?" Stark asked. "What do you suppose has happened to your missing friends?"

Recognizing the attempt to pump them, the young sleuths played along.

"They must have drowned," Frank replied sadly. He made no reference to the postcard in Chet's handwriting.

For a moment Stark looked puzzled. Then he said with exaggerated sympathy, "Isn't it strange there's been so much excitement in town lately? Even a bank robbery!"

"That won't be a mystery for long," Frank boasted to test the man's reaction. "My father, Fenton Hardy, has it practically solved. The robbers had better watch out!"

Ben Stark's oily smile faded. He looked hard at his two companions by the wall. Catching the signal, the men left their places and casually drew nearer to Frank and Joe. Both boys sensed the coming attack and summoned all their will power to appear nonchalant.

"By the way, where's Mr. French?" Joe asked, glancing casually around the room. There was no answer.

The next instant the three men lunged forward and leaped on the brothers!

Boxes tumbled from shelves in the struggle, and the single light bulb swung crazily from the ceiling. Frank pretended to be fighting off his a.s.sailants, but finally he allowed his arms to be pinioned.

Joe, meanwhile, had been thrown against a bank of shelves and had fallen to the floor as though stunned.

Panting, the men quickly bound, gagged, and blindfolded the two young detectives.

"Now," gloated Stark, "if your old man and the police don't call off the hunt for the bank robbers, they'll never see you again!"

Frank and Joe listened intently, hoping to learn more, but the men said nothing further.