"Maybe we can nab the thief and get the dory too," Frank suggested hopefully.

There was no doubt in his mind but that the man who had ordered the boat raised was the fellow who had sold the dory to Chet and had trapped the three boys in the room at 47 Packer Street. Hoping that the thief planned to move the Bloodhound Bloodhound by truck, but had not by truck, but had not already done so, Frank had an idea.

"Let's hide on the sh.o.r.e and nab him when he comes back with the truck," he suggested.

"Maybe he won't be back. The guy probably took what he wanted out of that fish box and skipped," Joe said.

When the boys reached the spot where the captain 109 said he had deposited the dory, there was no sign of the boat. Frank, wading ash.o.r.e, discovered tracks which indicated that the dory had been dragged some distance away. He eagerly followed the marks, but to his dismay they ended abruptly. Chet's Bloodhound Bloodhound was was not in sight! Disappointed, Frank went back to report this to Joe.

"The tracks ended at a little road," he said. "Evidently a truck was waiting and carried the dory away."

The youth climbed back into the motorboat, and the brothers went into a huddle. They admitted having been outwitted, and had no way of knowing where the Bloodhound Bloodhound had had been taken. Then sud' denly Frank snapped his fingers.

"I've an idea," he said. "I'll bet that dory came from the Mead place and has been taken back there."

"'What makes you think so?" Joe asked.

"My only clue is that strange Y symbol. It was on the ring of the man who gave us the key to the house, and there was a mark on the sunken dory that looked like it. If something funny is going on in that place------"

"You mean lights on one time and off another?" Joe asked.

"Yes. And don't forget I'm sure I heard someone speak once when we were there."

"You're right," his brother agreed. "We'll go there!"

Joe sent their craft skimming across the water.

110 On reaching the Mead property, Joe tied up to the dock. There was not a sign of anyone around. The boathouse was tightly locked, and Chet's boat was not in sight. Suddenly Joe began to pull off his clothes.

"What are you going to do?" Frank cried.

"See if I can swim under the boathouse door," his brother replied.

He cut the water in a clean dive and disappeared. Frank waited eagerly for his return. A minute later a m.u.f.fled voice cried out: "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," Frank shouted back. "Are you inside?"

"Sure am. The boat's not here, but I'm going to look around a bit."

"Good idea."

Frank waited, hoping no one would put in an appearance to ask what the boys were doing there. Presently Joe returned and climbed aboard the Sleuth. Sleuth. As he dried himself and As he dried himself and put on his clothes, Frank asked him what he had seen.

"The dory wasn't there, you said?"

Joe shook his head. There was no boat of any kind inside the building. The boy had collected a bit of evidence, though, which he thought was valuable.

"There was an old oar on a rack," he announced, "That same funny Y was carved on it!"

"Honest?"

"Yes. I looked at it twice to make sure. There'*

111 no question in my mind now but that the dory belongs to this Mead place."

"You're right," said Frank. "I still think the dory will be brought here sometime, probably after dark. What say we come back later to find out?"

"Okay. And I believe we ought to tell Chet what happened to his boat. After all, we're supposed to be working on his case, aren't we?"

Joe believed, too, that they should arrive at the Morton farm just about lunchtime.

"Maybe we can turn the tables on Chet," he suggested, with a grin. "Aunt Gertrude says he eats us out of house and home."

Frank was inclined to feel that his brother had another reason for going there. lola Morton! But he said nothing about this.

"Sure thing," he laughed. "Mrs. Morton's about the best cook in the world."

When the brothers reached home, they whispered to their mother where they were going. But they could not get out of the house without Aunt Gertrude remarking about the fact.

"Gallivanting again!" she said sternly. "Home the last thing at night, and out first thing in the morning. Now you've been in this house just about five minutes, and you're going out again. Why can't you sit down and be quiet?"

" 'Cause we have the itch to be doin' somethin'," said Joe.

Aunt Gertrude turned a disapproving gaze on her 112 nephews. "I'd say it would be better if you'd sit down and do something to improve your English," she stated. "When I was a girl your age------"

"Oh," said Joe, a twinkle in his eye. "Dad told us you were a tomboy, Aunt Gertrude."

Before the surprised woman could think of an answer, the boys had scooted through the doorway. They got out their roadster and headed for Chet Morton's home. As Frank had predicted, the midday meal was about to be served.

Chet's sister lola was glad to see the boys, especially Joe. She told Frank to go into the living room; that there was something for him to see in there. He found Gallic Shaw listening to the radio.

"Oh, h.e.l.lo!" the girl said. "I didn't know you were coming!"

"No?" said Frank. "Didn't a birdie tell you I'd be here?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, I just heard it."

"How?"

"Over the radio," Gallic teased, keeping her face straight.

"That so?" asked Frank, knowing now he was being kidded, and hoping to get the better of the situation. "And did the announcer say that's why you decided to stay to lunch?"

At this Gallic blushed, and said Frank was a horrid boy. She announced to Mrs. Morton, who came into the room, that the Hardys had had their lunch and could not eat another thing.

The Puzzle of the Lights 113.

"I'm so sorry," said Mrs. Morton. "We were having frica.s.see chicken and biscuits."

Then siie laughed, for Frank's expression gave him away. The good-natured woman said she would set two more places at the table at once, and asked Frank to call Chet.

"He's out spraying the apple trees," she said.

Frank went to find his plump friend, who was delighted to be relieved of the spraying job, and started for the house.

"Wait a minute," said Frank. "I have something to tell you."

He related the story of the dory being salvaged. Chet's eyes nearly popped from their sockets; then he shook his head sadly and groaned.

"Gee whiz! What am I going to do now?" he asked.

The fat boy brightened, however, when Frank said he and Joe were going back to the Mead house later to see if the Bloodhound Bloodhound had been brought there. Chet was sorry not to had been brought there. Chet was sorry not to be able to go along, but expressed faith in his friends' ability to solve his troubles. As the two boys walked toward the house, he asked Frank not to say anything to his folks about the boat.

The meal hour was a jolly one. Immediately afterward the Hardys left the house. At Joe's suggestion they went into Bayport and stopped at the electric power company.

"I want to inquire if there's an account for the 114 Mead place on the bay," he said, jumping from the roadster. "It may be under some other name."

A girl in the office looked up the records. The power company had not had a listing for the Mead house for some time. Joe thanked her and went outside.

"Somebody's tampering with the current at the Mead house," he told Frank. "It was shut off years ago. Whoever that person is, he must know how to turn on the juice without the power company knowing anything about it."

When the brothers arrived at the mansion they looked for evidence of recent visitors.

There seemed to be no freshly made footprints, nor were there any automobile tracks. Frank opened the front door and clicked the electric switch in the hall. No lights went on.

"The person who turns on the juice isn't around here now, that's sure," he remarked. "I'm going to do a little investigating in the cellar and try to find out where the line comes in from the road."

He turned on his flashlight and led the way below. The brothers hunted in vain for any sign of a switchboard or fuse box.

"Maybe old Mr. Mead concealed it like he did the locks and latches," said Frank.

Finding a large wooden panel on the wall, the boy studied it carefully. He felt sure that what he was looking for was behind it. There was no sign of a 115 k.n.o.b or a lock. Finally Frank placed his hands on the bottom of the panel and pushed. It slid up.

"The switchboard!" he cried, flashing his light inside.

He reached up and touched one of the oblong handles. At the same instant that the bas.e.m.e.nt was flooded with light, Frank fell to the floor unconscious!

CHAPTER XIV.

The Intruder.

the shock had knocked out Frank completely. Joe, fearful, leaped to his brother's side and felt for his pulse.

"Thank goodness he's alive," he murmured.

Quickly Joe gave his brother first aid. In a few moments Frank opened his eyes, wondering where he was and what had happened to him. He tried to speak but was unable to. Joe, who had ceased to worry for a second, became frightened all over again.

"Frank! Frank!" he called softly.

At last his brother was able to speak, saying he would be all right. Joe told him what had happened, and suggested they get out of the house at once. He started to pick up Frank, but the older boy a.s.sured him he could walk.

They went up the stairs, but on reaching the kitchen Frank was so weak he sat down in a chair. He told Joe to look around the house alone while he rested. The younger boy started off. Going from room to room, he tried the lights, becoming 116.

117 more and more puzzled by the moment. In some places they flashed on at once, in others they did not. As he went the rounds a second time, those which had not snapped on at first, now lighted up brightly.

"I can't understand it," he said to himself. "Someone must be tampering with the feed line on the outside."

Guided by the hall light, Joe stepped into the library, which was dark. Just then he heard a loud groan.

"Frank!" he cried, conscience-stricken, and rushed back to the kitchen.

His brother still sat in the chair, but was deathly white. He admitted feeling rather bad.

Joe insisted they leave at once, and helped Frank to the car. By the time they reached home, Frank felt much better. The boy remarked that maybe somebody at the Mead house had tried to put him out of the way with an electric shock!

"But I'm glad I fooled 'em," he said, with a faint grin. "I'm made of pretty tough stuff."

"Yes," agreed Joe, "like that steak we had at Bear Camp last summer."

"You mean some from the bear you shot?" asked Frank.

His brother's face grew red. The incident was a great joke in the Hardy family and they often teased Joe about it. The boy thought he had shot a bear in the woods, when actually their guide had killed the animal. For several days after the event, Joe had been under the delusion that he was a great hunter.

118 "Something's the matter here," Joe remarked, as he pulled open the kitchen screen door.

"What do you mean?" asked Frank.

The words were hardly out of his mouth when he too became aware of loud voices in the front part of the house. Aunt Gertrude seemed to be trying to console someone, but she was talking so excitedly that her attempts were not very effective. A moment later the brothers recognized the other speaker as Mrs. f.a.n.n.y Stryker.

"I don't care what they say," Lenny's mother cried out. "n.o.body seems to be doing anything for me! My son's honest and I want him back!"

"You have no right to talk about my brother and my nephews that way," Miss Hardy said with spirit. "They are the best detectives in this state; in fact, in the whole United States!"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Frank and Joe looked at each other and grinned. This was high praise from Aunt Gertrude! High praise which she would not have voiced had she known they were listening.

With a wink at his brother, Joe turned around and slammed the kitchen door. Then with a "h.e.l.lo, anybody home?" he stalked into the front of the house. Before either he or Frank could greet Mrs. Stryker, Aunt Gertrude flared up and berated the boys for making so much noise.

"Why can't you come into this house quietly?" she reprimanded them.

119 "Sorry, Aunty," said Joe. "I suppose a really great detective wouldn't make so much noise."

His relative looked searchingly at the boy, but he gave no sign of having overheard her.