"His name is Ray Slagel," Mr. Dodd explained.

"He came to the farm looking for work about a month ago. But he didn't prove dependable, and after I had found him away from his ch.o.r.es several times, I had to dismiss him."

"Did you have any trouble with him after that?" Joe asked.

"No," Mr. Dodd answered, "but he threatened to get even with me. I can't tell you much about his background, but we can describe him."

"Dad," Jack interrupted excitedly, "I think I still have that picture I took of Slagel!"

"That might give us something to go on," Frank remarked. "Actually, we've got two Dodd mysteries."

"I almost forgot!" Jack gasped, remembering his uncle's expected visit that night.

Mr. Dodd laughed. "Frank and Joe, are you still interested?"

"Interested! the Hardys cried in unison. "We sure are!"

Frank turned the sedan off Sh.o.r.e Road onto the lane leading to the Dodd house. Mr. Dodd and Jack cordially invited the Hardys inside, where they all sat down in the attractive, pine-paneled living room.

Over a large flagstone fireplace hung a framed black-and-white map of the Atlantic coast. There were several early Colonial prints above the bookcases and sofa.

"We're ready for the story," said Frank.

"As you may know," Mr. Dodd began, "the Dodd family, while small today, goes back several hundred years in this country." He pointed to some faded, brown-leather volumes along a mahogany shelf. "There are records in these of centuries of Dodds-records that go back before the Revolutionary War.

Unfortunately, they tell us little about the man at the root of the Pilgrim mystery."

Frank and Joe leaned forward.

"We do know," the farmer continued, "that in the year 1647, one Elias Dodd embarked from Plymouth Colony in a small skiff with his wife and three children. A good seaman, with considerable knowledge of astronomy, he went in search of a horseshoe-shaped inlet he had heard of from an Indian. Dodd hoped to establish a settlement to which other families might come later."

"A horseshoe-shaped inlet!" Joe exclaimed.

Mr. Dodd smiled. "The inlet that is today Barmet Bay."

"Did he reach it?" Frank asked.

Mr. Dodd stood up and paced the room. "That is the mystery we hope to solve. You see, Elias Dodd was never heard from again. But many years later, a bottle was found washed up on a sh.o.r.e farther south of here. In it was a note believed to have been written by Elias before he and his family perished in a sudden, violent storm.

"Deterioration of the paper had obliterated some of the words. In the message, Elias hastily described their last geographical position."

"And you have the message here?" Frank asked.

"Only in our heads." Jack smiled.

Mr. Dodd explained. "My brother Martin, who teaches astronomy at Cheston College in Greenville, has the original. You'll be able to see it when you meet him this evening."

"And you're hoping," Joe said, "to discover whether your ancestor perished in the Bayport area?"

"That's right, as well as to determine the existence of the Pilgrim treasure."

"Treasure!" Frank and Joe echoed.

Jack's father went on, "When Elias left the colony for his journey, he brought with him a chest of jewels, many of which were very valuable. He hoped to use the less expensive ones to barter with the Indians he might encounter."

"Because of the treasure, I a.s.sume the mystery must remain in confidence," Frank said.

Mr. Dodd nodded. "Dishonest people mustn't hear about it," Jack said. "They might find the chest before we do. And there is the possibility it contains his journals which would also be valuable."

Frank and Joe stood up as Mr. Dodd glanced at his watch. Though eager to hear details of the Pilgrim clue, they realized that Jack and his father needed a chance to obtain legal advice for their hearing the next morning on the stolen car.

Frank shook hands with the Dodds at the front door. "We look forward to meeting Martin Dodd -and seeing the old paper-tonight!"

Jack smiled, fingering a rabbit's-foot key chain, but his face seemed to cloud with the anxieties of last night's events. "Thanks again, fellows," he said. "Without you, we wouldn't even be free to work on the mystery."

"As it is," Mr. Dodd added, "we must solve it within the next few days!"

His mention of a deadline puzzled the Hardys. He promised to explain later that night.

Jack gave the boys a photograph of Ray Slagel. The picture revealed a burly, bald man leaning on a pitchfork before the Dodd barn. He wore a work glove with a V-shaped cuff on his left hand.

The Hardys then drove out to Beach Grove where they locked the car and began combing the sand for clues to the thief of Jerry's stolen car. Later, they heard Chet's jalopy arrive, and he joined the brothers in the search.

"I guessed you fellows would be here," he said. He took out a large magnifier. "Thought you could use a botanical consultant. Say, do you think the evidence against the Dodds is serious?"

"It could be," Frank admitted, kicking into a small mound of sand. "They have no witnesses for their whereabouts the day that car was stolen, but Mr. Dodd's good reputation can't be discounted."

Chet leaned down with his magnifier at the top of a sand slope to inspect a plant. Suddenly he lost his balance, and rolled down the incline.

"Chet, are you all right?"

Their rotund friend regained his feet. Scrubbing sand out of his hair, he held up a glove. "This might be a clue!"

Frank and Joe went down to look at it.

"It's a work glove!" Chet said, pointing to the V-shaped cuff.

At that moment the boys saw a car slow down on the road above them. They raced up the slope, but when they reached the highway, the car was already disappearing around the bend.

The boys rushed to check their cars. Neither had been tampered with.

"Wonder what he was looking for," Joe remarked.

"Maybe the same thing that Chet found," Frank said. "Joe, have you that picture of Slagel?"

Joe produced the photograph. Frank compared the left-handed glove Chet held and the one in the picture.

The two looked identical!

"This may be the lead we're looking for!" Frank rejoiced as they walked to their cars.

"Do you think this could help prove the Dodds' innocence?" Chet asked.

"It might if they can identify it as Slagel's when we see them tonight."

Elated by the clue, the Hardys thanked Chet and headed home. After a light supper, they told of their proposed visit to the Dodds. Aunt Gertrude was skeptical about the bail which Mr. Hardy had put up so promptly. "You're all too trustful," she said. "Look up this Slagel in your father's files."

Frank and Joe did so, and were disappointed when the files revealed no information on Slagel.

"Reckless, plain reckless, Frank and Joe Hardy," Aunt Gertrude said. "Why, the Dodds may really be car thieves!"

"But Dad doesn't think so, Aunty," Joe reminded Miss Hardy.

"Never you mind. You just can't rely on men who don't have a woman around the house to keep them straight." Despite her words, the boys' aunt was secretly proud of their magnanimous efforts to help the Dodds.

When the telephone rang, Joe answered the call. "It's Chief Collig," he whispered to Frank. Then Joe's jaw dropped and he slowly hung up the phone. He could hardly speak.

"The chief says the Dodds may have jumped bail. They've disappeared in their station wagon!"

CHAPTER IV.

Suspicious Visitor PERPLEXED over the news of the Dodds, Frank and Joe immediately cycled out to the farm. It was a scene of confusion, with a crowd of spectators watching the excitement from the highway.

"There's Chief Collig," Frank indicated as the boys parked next to a bright-blue television van. They went over to speak to him. As they walked with him toward the house, Joe asked, "But why would the Dodds run away ?"

Collig took a deep breath and shook his head. "I only know they appear to have left hastily-and, I'm afraid, permanently. One of our patrols noticed the garage was empty and investigated. The door of the house was unlocked. All food and clothing were gone."

The officer turned to the boys. "I'm sorry that you and your dad will suffer financially should the Dodds not appear at the hearing tomorrow."

Frank and Joe, in their concern over the Dodds, had completely forgotten about the posted bail.

The police chief accompanied them through the farmhouse rooms. Joe, who was familiar with Jack's room, noticed that a pup tent and sleeping bag were missing.

"I don't understand it," Frank said ruefully as they started down the stairs. "Jack seemed worried but not enough to-"

"I'm afraid this isn't all," Collig interrupted. He held out a large rabbit's-foot charm. "Have you boys ever seen this?"

"Yes, that's the one Jack had on his key ring," Joe said.

"Another car was stolen at Bay Bluff during the last hour." Collig hesitated. "This charm was found there."

When the three returned to the noisy scene outside, the boys inquired for Jack's uncle. He had not arrived.

Frank and Joe decided to ride out to Bay Bluff. As they reached their motorcycles, Frank said in a low voice, "Joe, I have a hunch that Jack and his father didn't leave of their own accord."

Joe whistled. "You mean they might have been kidnapped? But why-"

The discussion was interrupted by the arrival of a short, stout man named Oscar Sm.u.f.f, wearing a green tweed suit and Tyrolean hat. He appeared to be taking copious notes in a memo book.

Sm.u.f.f, an aspiring detective, had long wanted to become a member of the Bayport Police Department.

The Hardys often encountered him on cases, but he was not distinguished for powers of deduction or insight. The boys greeted him and started their vehicles.

"Too bad about all that bail money," Sm.u.f.f said. "But you're just kids-didn't know you were backing car thieves. Got in over your heads this time. Should have asked my advice.

Joe was about to retort, but Frank signaled to him and they wished the egotistical detective good night.

Heading through a cool sea wind down the dark highway, the Hardys soon reached Bay Bluff. Near a lone police car, a young woman was wiping her eyes as an officer spoke with her. The boys parked and introduced themselves.

From the woman's story, Frank and Joe gathered she had parked at the bend, heading south, and climbed a foot path to watch the sunset. "I did leave the key in the ignition," she admitted, "and my car wasn't visible from the path, but I had a complete view of Sh.o.r.e Road traffic in both directions. Then I saw my car moving out on the highway-but it was too late."

"We're sure sorry to hear that," said Frank.

After the policeman and the woman had driven away, the Hardys looked for clues to the theft. The stolen car had been driven south toward Bayport, Frank followed his flashlight beam across the road toward the ocean. Joe did the same. From far below came the sound of the pounding surf.

"If only Jack and Mr. Dodd had known about the glove we found!" Joe sighed. "Now, it may not be wise to publicize that we have it until we have some idea where Slagel is."

Frank agreed. "But it might be good for us to have a talk with Dad tomorrow. If-"

Frank's voice was drowned in a loud screeching sound as a limousine burst around the bend from the south. It swung too wide in the turn and headed straight for the boys!

Blinded by the glaring headlights, Joe slipped but sprawled safely out of the way as the big car rocked back onto the road and raced off. Frank had vanished from sight!

"Frank!" Joe cried out, rushing to the edge of the bluff. He heard a sound, and looking down, was relieved to see his brother's hands grasping the vines of a small bush. In a moment he had pulled him up.

"Whew! Thanks!" Frank gasped. "I was standing on an awful lot of air down there! Did you get the license number of that car?"

"No," Joe replied. "But it looked to me like a tan Carlton, two or three years old."

After a double-check failed to turn up any clues, the brothers headed home. Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude were upset to hear of the Dodds' disappearance. Their mother also mentioned having heard prowlers outside the house earlier in the evening.

"Again! Were they near the garage?" Joe exclaimed.

"Yes," Aunt Gertrude replied. "I looked around out there myself but didn't see anybody. Your father's car was not touched."

"Joe, the glove I" Frank started, suddenly remembering that they had left it in their crime lab over the garage.

Both boys tore out of the house and ran up to the lab. The pine-paneled room also served as a combination workshop and clubhouse. One maple bookcase, a small safe, several plaster footprint molds, and various scientific kits were arranged neatly along two walls of the lab. Hanging on another wall were a.s.sorted disguises-wigs, beards, masks, and hats.

Joe flicked on the light and opened a cabinet. The glove was gone!

Frank groaned. "Our only clue! But let's make a duplicate of Slagel's picture, anyway."