THE SECRET PANEL.

By FRANKLIN W. DIXON.

CHAPTER I.

A Startling Announcement.

"Stop!"

Frank Hardy jammed on the brakes of the roadster.

"What's the matter with that driver?" his brother Joe asked.

Racing down the hill toward them was a car out of control. It zigzagged from one side of the road to the other. Any moment it might crash head on into the boys' roadster!

"Better back up," Joe advised. "Oh, look!"

The car swerved sharply, then dived into a ditch. At the same moment a front wheel came off and rolled on down the hill. Afraid that the wheel might bounce up on the open roadster, the boys scrambled out and jumped a fence to safety. Fortunately, the wheel missed their car by inches and toppled over into the ditch.

"Whew, that was a close one!" Frank remarked.

"Wonder if the driver was hurt."

"We'd better find out," urged Joe, starting to run.

When the Hardy boys reached the car, the driver was still holding the wheel and seemed dazed. But when they offered to help him the man insisted he was all right, adding that he had never been more frightened in his life.

"I never should have let that stupid boy in the garage put the wheel on," he said. "I might have been killed."

Frank and Joe agreed. They offered to fix the car, and while Joe went to retrieve the wheel, his brother surveyed the lopsided automobile. In that position it was going to be difficult for the boys to replace the wheel.

"I wish I could be of a.s.sistance," the driver said, "but I don't know a thing about automobiles."

As the boys went about their task, he watched them with interest. He said his name was John Mead, and asked them theirs. On hearing they were sons of Fenton Hardy, he looked at them intently. When the brothers finished their work, he asked: "Would you boys mind doing me a favor? I'm just starting off on a trip, and this wheel business has held me up considerably."

"We'll do what we can, sir," Frank replied.

"I live on the north sh.o.r.e of Barmet Bay, about two and a half miles from Bayport," Mr.

Mead told them. "My house will be easy to find, for my name's on the gate. I'm certain I left a light burning inside. Would you go there and turn it off?"

3 Frank and Joe saw no reason for refusing the man's request, and said they would be glad to go. Mr. Mead took a large, strangely shaped key from his pocket and handed it to Frank, who, he rightly guessed, was the older brother. When the boys remarked that they had never seen such an odd key, Mr. Mead said with a smile there were many other unusual things about his house, too.

"Why don't you look around while you're there?" he suggested. "I'm sure you'd enjoy it."

"We'll do that."

John Mead started off, saying that upon his return from the trip he would call at the Hardy home for the key.

"I have no duplicate, so don't lose it," he warned the boys. "Oh, by the way, you may have some difficulty getting into the house, but I'm sure the sons of a famous detective can accomplish it! Well, thank you again for helping me."

Frank and Joe walked to their roadster, climbed in, and headed for their home in Bayport.

"Did you notice the odd signet ring Mr. Mead was wearing?" Frank asked his brother.

"Yes, I did. Never saw anything like it before. I wonder if that queer-looking Y on it means anything."

"Maybe. The top of the ring looked like a square wheel with three spokes," mused Frank.

"Whoever heard of a square wheel?" Joe scoffed.

Frank looked toward the farm they were pa.s.sing.

4 "Whoever saw a barn dance?" he said facetiously.

"You win," Joe laughed.

Upon reaching home, the boys found no one was there but their father. He was a tall, well-built man in his early forties. When the famous detective was not busy on a case, he was jovial and liked to joke with his sons. Now they sensed something had gone wrong, because he was frowning as he sat at his desk in the den.

"h.e.l.lo, boys," he said, hardly taking his eyes from a letter in his hand.

"h.e.l.lo, Dad." They waited for their father to speak before saying more.

"Another unsigned, threatening letter today," Mr. Hardy explained. "I've had a good many, but this one sounds particularly bad."

"Have you any idea who sent it?" Frank asked.

"No, but probably it's from a member of a gang of thieves I'm after."

"A new case?" Joe inquired eagerly.

"Yes, and a challenging one, too. Museum robberies in various towns around here."

"Did the thieves get away with a lot?" Frank wanted to know.

"Yes," his father replied. "They've stolen many rare and valuable objects. But what baffles me is the way they get into the places. One museum had a burglar alarm connected with all the doors and windows, but it didn't go off. Another had a special door lock. There was no evidence that it had 5 been tampered with. Yet the thieves got inside both buildings."

The boys were sure their father would solve the case sooner or later. Secretly they hoped he would ask them to help him with the case as he often did, but he said nothing.

Frank showed his father the strange-looking key Mr. Mead had given them, and told him of the request the man had made.

"It's an odd key," Mr. Hardy remarked, examining the ornamented piece of metal closely. "It must fit a very unusual lock."

"The Mead house is on the north sh.o.r.e," Frank explained. "Do you know the place, Dad?"

"No, I don't." Then after a pause he added, "Presumably no one is at home."

"Mr. Mead didn't say."

"In that case," said Mr. Hardy, "I don't want you boys to go there."

Frank and Joe were disappointed. They had been looking forward to seeing the place, especially since Mr. Mead had mentioned there were many things to interest the boys at the house, and had offered a challenge about their getting inside.

"Mr. Mead told us to look around," Joe ventured to say.

"That may be," his father replied, "but it's very unwise for a person to enter the home of someone with whom he's not acquainted. This John Mead is a total stranger to us, and we know nothing about him."

6 "He seemed very nice."

"Well, if you're so set on going," Mr. Hardy relented, smiling, "suppose you stop at Police Headquarters, tell Chief Collig your story, and ask him if he'll send one of his men out to the house with you."

Frank and Joe did not hesitate a moment, for they were afraid their father might change his mind. They were out the door like a shot. At Police Headquarters they found Chief Collig in his office at a teletype machine. The boys waited until it stopped, and the stout, red-faced man sat back in his chair.

"You've come to ask me for something," the officer said. "I can see it in your eyes!"

The brothers laughed, then Frank told their story. Chief Collig did not interrupt him, but when the boy finished, he leaned forward in his chair and fixed a steady gaze on them.

"There's something very queer about this," he said. "John Mead has been dead for five years and his house has been closed!"

CHAPTER II.

Strange Doors.

frank and Joe stared at Chief Collig.

"John Mead is dead? But we saw-" Frank began.

"I don't care what you saw," the officer replied impatiently. "All I know is that John Mead and his chauffeur were killed in an automobile accident five years ago. No one else lived in the house."

"Perhaps a son-" suggested Joe.

"Didn't have any children. John Mead was a bachelor. At least, that's what I heard at the time. The former chief here might have known more about him, but he's dead too."

Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. While waiting for Collig to finish speaking, Frank and Joe discussed the strange situation. If no one lived at the Mead house, who was the man they had met on the road?

"Gosh, maybe he's a burglarf" said Joe in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

8 "He certainly didn't look like one."

"No, he didn't. But Dad says some of the meanest crooks are the most innocent-looking ones."

"That's right," Frank agreed. "Say, what do you think that fellow John Mead meant about a light in the house? If n.o.body's lived there for five years, the current would be turned off."

" 'The plot thickens,' " Joe quoted, his blue eyes lighting up with the thought of mystery.

"Well, dead men don't make requests to have their lights turned off, and neither do ghosts. A very live man asked us to do this, and I'm going to find out why."

When a Hardy said that, one could be certain he would let nothing stop him from carrying out his purpose. It was because of this that father and sons had brought many a cunning criminal to justice. Even Mr. Hardy's sister, the boys' Aunt Gertrude, who visited them frequently and unexpectedly, had unearthed valuable clues for them. Mrs. Hardy, helpful in many ways, accepted it all philosophically, and secretly was very proud of her family.

Though only of high school age, Frank and Joe had been helping Fenton Hardy in his detective work ever since he had left the New York Police Force and come to practice privately in Bayport, a city of some fifty thousand inhabitants. Frank was tall, dark and keen-minded like his father. Joe, a year younger and blond like his mother, liked to get things done in a hurry.

Several times the boys had uncovered mysteries of 9 their own, such as the baffling Tower Treasure and the recent Short-Wave Mystery, which they had solved to the complete satisfaction of their famous father. Now it began to look as if Frank and Joe had stumbled upon another mystery.

As soon as Chief Collig finished his telephone conversation, the boys told him in more detail about their meeting with the man who called himself John Mead. The Chief listened to their story, then smiled patronizingly.

"I'm inclined to think the fellow was having some fun at your expense," he said. "Ten to one, the key you say he gave you won't fit any lock at the Mead house."

Frank and Joe winced under the officer's implication. Collig might be right, at that. And then, too, the man on the road, learning who the boys were, might have been urging them on for some reason. But why?

"Sorry to upset your chance at a mystery," the Chief went on. He coughed a bit pompously.

Frank was nettled, but said evenly, "I don't believe Mr. Mead was trying to fool us.

Anyway, we'd like to get into the house and see if there is a light burning. Dad thought we ought to take an officer along when we go there."

The Chief thought it would be a waste of time to send a man from his force on such an errand; still, he recalled, the Hardys had saved his skin on several occasions. Maybe he had better cooperate with 10 them. Collig turned to his telephone and dialed a number. A moment later he spoke gruffly into the transmitter: "Wake up!-What's that?-It's early?-Never mind that. It won't hurt you to get up now.

Listen, Riley, the Hardy boys want your help."

Riley! The slow-witted policeman who had been demoted for letting himself be robbed by a thief he had caught! Frank and Joe looked at each other, then nodded in agreement.

They could talk Riley out of any objections he might have!

"Make it snappy!" Collig ordered his patrolman. "Frank and Joe will pick you up in their car. And don't be late reporting back here!"

Before the boys' "Thank you, Chief" had echoed through the room, they were at the door and hurrying down the steps of the police station. Ten minutes later Frank brought the roadster to a stop in front of Patrolman Riley's house. Joe leaped out and rang the bell.

He expected the patrolman to answer it at once, but Riley was in no hurry. He was annoyed at having been awakened before it was time for him to go on duty and, furthermore, he had not forgotten some jokes the Hardys and other boys had played on him. Riley finished shaving, then came to the door in his bathrobe just as Joe rang the bell again.

"You've got to wait till I eat," he said glumly. "And my wife's out."

11 Joe groaned. Did they have to delay while Riley cooked his breakfast? Joe stepped into the hall.

"Riley," he said, "something big's going to break. You want to be in on it, don't you?"

"You mean it?"