by Mabel Maney
"It writes in regular and invisible ink," Joe pointed out. "So you can leave Nancy secret messages."
"Never have I received more thoughtful presents," Hannah sighed as she surveyed the pile of presents on the glasstopped wrought iron table in front of her. "Sing Along with Mitch Miller, a lacy bed jacket, The Joy of Cooking, this pen and my very own official Red Cross blood-pressure kit. Why, you kids are going to spoil me!"
"There's one more parcel to open," Cherry said, pointing to a smallish box wrapped in gay pink tissue and tied with a silver bow. Hannah opened the box and pulled out a clear bottle filled with rose-colored water. Taped to the neck of the bottle was a note. Hannah took her reading glasses from her pocket and read it aloud. "Birthday wishes from Mrs. Milton Meeks.
"Oh, dear," Hannah cried worriedly. "Just as I suspected. A whole bottle of Myra's homemade perfume. She sends a bottle to all the River Depths housekeepers on their birthdays. Now I'll have to wear it to church come Sunday," she fretted.
Everyone laughed.
"A toast to my dear friend Hannah who's been like a mother to me since the death of my real mother twentytwo years ago," Nancy proposed, holding her pink lemonade aloft.
"Here's to Hannah!" everyone cried as they raised their glasses high. Hannah beamed happily.
Cherry searched her brain for something clever to say. Her father, who loved a good party, always had at his fingertips a generous store of time-tested toasts on a wide variety of subjects. If only she could remember one of them!
"A porter on the Queen Mary taught me a grand toast," Joe recalled.
"Here's to chums, old and new," Frank exclaimed. "Especially my twin brother Midge."
Cherry giggled. Although she was embarrassed to have given a false diagnosis of amnesia, she had to admit that she was relieved to find it had been Frank Hardly behind that apron all along. "That explains a lot of things," she sighed aloud. "Now that you're together, I can tell you apart, but it isn't easy," Cherry admitted. "You do look shockingly alike. Frank," she teased, "there's not a Hardly girl in your family, is there?"
Frank shook his head. "There's been nothing but boys for generations," he said.
"Even I was fooled for a moment when I first met Frank," Velma laughed. It had been a little jarring to see someone who looked so much like her girlfriend standing at a buffet table making melon balls.
"I'd have to be suffering from amnesia before I'd put on an apron," Midge assured her girlfriend. "Not that it looked at all bad on you, Frank," she hastily added.
"You'll find, Midge, that an apron really does keep one's clothes tidy as pie," he teased. "You'll notice my shirt is as clean as a whistle!"
Everyone had a good chuckle when they looked at Midge's outfit, which was in its usual rumpled state. Her dark trousers were smudged with ashes from her ever-present cigarette and a smudge of grease ran up the sleeve of her Orlon short-sleeved summer shirt.
Velma picked at the front of Midge's shirt. "What's this?" she asked with a big smile. "Shrimp sauce?" Everyone could tell by the starry expression in her eyes that Velma wouldn't trade Midge or her funny habits for anything in the world.
"Any minute now, I'll fix it so we can sneak off," Midge whispered in Velma's ear.
"Frank's Mr. Tidy," Joe teased his older brother. "Why, Frank here is the only fellow I know who can chase a cunning criminal, rescue a marooned fighter pilot or wrestle a burly thug, all without losing the crease in his slacks. He's just like Father."
"Speaking of your famous father, I read that article in Spy Journal about those stolen rocket ship plans he managed to retrieve just as Russian agents were preparing to smuggle them out of the country," Jackie piped up. "That was good work."
At the mention of that case, Frank blanched. It had been his father's most dangerous mission, and for four fearful days, the Hardly family had held its breath waiting for word that Fennel was fine. Since that dreadful day, Fennel P. Hardly had, at the insistence of his family, forsworn dangerous cases of espionage.
Frank pushed his plate of cake aside and jumped up. He jammed his hands in the pockets of his handsome slacks and started to pace around the patio. He peered at the brilliant moon high in the Illinois sky; that same moon was now a trophy in a cosmic race between two giants-a race Frank feared they would lose!
"Why they wanted our rocket ship plans when they've already proven their superiority in space is beyond me," Frank said grimly. October fourth, nineteen hundred and fifty-seven had been a sad day for a boy detective with space dust in his eyes, for on that day the Russian satellite Sputnik I, the firstever satellite in space, had flown overhead.
"Even Father couldn't stop their dominance of outer space," Joe sighed. Then he smiled brightly. "Here's hoping we reach the moon first," he toasted. "We will, too," he bragged, "because we've got the best scientists in the world and a government eager to spend untold millions for such an important endeavor."
Frank tipped his glass skyward. His eyes glowed. "So enchanting, so mysterious, but so far away that only in his dreams could man touch her barren beauty. This is our moon," he said dreamily.
"But why do you want to go to the moon?" Cherry wondered. "It doesn't seem like a very nice place to visit. There's nowhere to stay up there."
Frank and Joe were almost speechless with astonishment. "Space flight will free man from the chains of gravity that tie him to this planet!" they cried.
"Plus in space, we can harvest new materials and create new products that will enrich all our lives," Frank pointed out. "New things for the home, schools, industry, and even hospitals."
"Dad says it could be a whole new world up there," Joe enthused.
"It will be, too," Frank asserted solemnly, "for peace in space means peace on earth."
"Think of it, Cherry," Joe added excitedly. "If we can develop our space arsenal, we can eventually ring the free world with such formidable weapons that an invader would think a long, long time before risking a war. Anyway, that's what Dad says, and he knows best. Why, he taught us everything we know about tracking crooks, cracking codes and the surveillance of dangerous characters," he bragged. "And not once has he failed in his endeavor to right a wrong or bring a criminal to justice.
"In fact, I think he's digging up clues for a new case right now," Joe said with an excited twinkle in his eye.
Frank smiled, caught up in his brother's enthusiasm. "I do so hope there's a good mystery for us to solve this summer," Frank cut in. "I'm eager to plunge into something new."
Frank's comment surprised Jackie. Why, the way the boy sleuth had acted earlier, a mystery seemed to be the last thing on his mind!
"A mystery sure would be fun right now," Cherry sighed. Only not too soon," she added, "since I've just eaten."
Frank and Joe looked at each other slyly. Little did Cherry realize that soon she would get her wish!
Jackie looked up just in time to catch their exchange. "That does it," she thought. "Something queer is going on. Why are these two eager-beaver boy detectives content to while away the afternoon at a patio party while a thug who wrecked havoc at the Dog Show and then broke into their family cottage is loose and his partner is sitting in jail right now yet to be interrogated? What are they waiting for?" she asked herself.
"Frank, I suspect that-" Jackie began, but before she could go any further, Nancy jumped up, clapped her hands excitedly and squealed, "It's time for a game! Who wants to play?"
"How about a round of Powers of Observation?" Joe suggested.
"What's that?" Cherry wondered. "Is it difficult to play?"
"We blindfold a volunteer and have her describe a person in this room," Joe explained. "We play it all the time at parties in order to hone our detective skills."
"It sounds like fun," Cherry squealed.
A sly grin came over Frank's face. "We'll start with you, Cherry," he announced as he took a red-checkered cloth napkin from the buffet table and used it to blindfold her. Cherry allowed Frank to twirl her around three tim
es, and when he let go, she began walking unsteadily around the patio with her arms outstretched. Nancy was just within her grasp when suddenly, startled by a cough from Midge, Cherry turned to her left, reached out and grabbed onto a muscular arm.
"Oh, it must be you Midge," she laughed as she ran her small, soft hand over a bulging bicep. She gave the massive muscle a playful squeeze.
"No, it's me," Jackie said in a low tone.
Cherry blushed, snatched her hand away and put it primly in her pocket.
"Now you have to describe Jackie," Joe cried. "That's the rule."
"Drat," Frank thought. He had hoped Cherry would choose Nancy, who looked especially fetching in her crisp summer outfit, but his plans had been foiled when Midge had suddenly choked on a stuffed olive.
"I wouldn't know where to begin," Cherry cried, all flustered.
"You can apply the Hardly Boys Identification System and work from the head down," Joe suggested helpfully. "For example, what's Jackie's hair color and style?" Joe prompted.
Cherry thought a moment and then stammered, "She's got shiny black hair fashioned in a flattering closecrop hairdo that shows off her strong features to their best advantage."
"Excellent," Joe said. "Now, can you describe her eye and complexion color?"
"Deep black eyes with just a hint of brown that makes them warm and inviting. I've seen them sparkle with intelligence and good humor, then flash with anger," Cherry sighed. Golly, this game was easier than she had imagined. Maybe she could be a detective! It was a queer sensation, wearing a blindfold. Why, it made her feel as if she and Jackie were alone in the room.
"And skin?" Joe prodded.
"Warm brown skin, the color of strong coffee with just a hint of cream."
Joe nodded. "Now for build and notable physical characteristics."
Cherry blushed deeply and threw off her lightweight cardigan sweater. Was it her imagination, or had the summer night suddenly turned much warmer? "Well, she's tall and has wide, strong shoulders just made for someone to cry on," she gulped.
A sharp knock at the front door brought the little game to an abrupt end. "Thank goodness," Frank and Nancy sighed with relief.
Midge grabbed Velma by the hand and pulled her into the garden. Frank went to answer the door.
"Why, it's Uncle Nelly and his chum Willy," Frank exclaimed. "And none too soon," he thought with relief. "Where have you fellows been?" he said under his breath as he let the men in. "You're here just in the nick of time!"
* * *
CHAPTER 19
* * *
The Telltale Slippers
"Look who's here!" Joe cried. "It's our Uncle Nelly and his chum Willy! My, you two look rather excited! Uncle, has something happened?"
Uncle Nelly stumbled inside. "Boys, something awful has happened-the queerest thingooh! " He dropped into a nearby comfortable upholstered wing back chair, took the peach-colored silk kerchief from around his neck and began fanning his face, which was bright pink from excitement. Why, it looked as if he had been weeping!
Joe grinned. Trust Uncle Nelly to put on a show!
"Take a deep breath, Nelson," Willy said, clutching his friend's hand. "Frank, Joe, your uncle has something very grievous to tell you," he said in a grave tone. Frank noticed that even the unflappable Willy seemed shaken. He and Joe exchanged a delighted grin. This was going to be good!
"I almost can't say it," Uncle Nelly gasped. Joe brought him a glass of cool lemonade to steady his nerves. "No-" Uncle Nelly waved the glass away. "Not at a time like this!" Uncle Nelly moaned as he wrung his neck kerchief between his soft pale hands. "Oh, boys," he cried dramatically, "you won't believe the terrible turn of events!"
Frank was mighty impressed by his uncle's flawless performance. "Why, if we didn't know this was a set-up, I'd swear Uncle Nelly was really worried about something," he thought to himself.
"Uncle, are you trying to say that you've witnessed something that you think could be related to the recent Dog Show incident, and you're here to beg Nancy to take the case?" Joe urged him on.
Cherry gasped. My, Joe was good!
Jackie rolled her eyes. She smelled a rat!
Uncle Nelly appeared too overcome to speak. He buried his head in his hands and started to weep. Willy stepped in, and what he said made the partygoers gasp in horror.
"Boys, your parents, well-known detective Fennel P. Hardly and his attractive wife Mrs. Hardly, have been kidnapped!"
"Kidnapped!" Frank and Joe chorused. Golly, the fellows had gone and changed the mystery on them! Joe looked at Nancy and shrugged. Nancy looked momentarily puzzled, but the cool-headed sleuth quickly regained her composure.
Jackie ran to the closet for her detective's notebook and pencil stowed in her jacket pocket, but Nancy was ready. She hid a little smile as she reached for the notebook she had stowed earlier in the front patch pocket of her flared skirt. And she just happened to have a little pencil tucked behind one ear!
Nancy speedily quizzed Uncle Nelly.
"Did you see the kidnapping? Who do you think snatched them? Are you aware of anyone who bears a grudge against Mr. and Mrs. Hardly? What happened in the minutes leading up to this shocking incident?"
While Cherry thrilled to the sight of the comely girl taking charge of an important investigation, Jackie crossed her muscular arms over her strong chest and smoldered in the corner. "I'll get my firstaid kit, just in case someone needs a nurse," Cherry told Nancy.
Joe grinned. "Golly, Mother and Father have joined in on our little scheme," he whispered to his brother.
"For a minute there, I thought something really had happened to them," Frank admitted. "Why, Uncle Nelly ought to win an Oscar for his performance."
Joe agreed. "What really impresses me is that Uncle Nelly came all the way over here in his old carpet slippers. It certainly lends credence to his performance as the distraught relative."
Frank looked at his brother queerly. "Why, Uncle Nelly would never leave the house without the right shoes-"
"-unless something as terrible as a kidnapping had occurred!" Joe finished his thought, all wide-eyed.
"Something terrible has happened to Mother and Father!" the boys chorused in horror.
"That's what we've been trying to tell you," Uncle Nelly cried. "Frank-Joe-someone has stolen into your home and made off with your parents! " A long horrible moment of silence followed. Frank clenched his fists. His pleasant face grew stormy with rage.
"These perpetrators shall be brought to justice," the boy vowed, "or my name isn't Francis P. Hardly!"
* * *
CHAPTER 20
* * *
"Hold It Right There!"
"-and I was just about to hang up the telephone when suddenly I heard a loud, brutishsounding man call out, `Hold it right there, Fennel. You're coming with me! You too, Mrs. Hardly!' Then what sounded like a scuffle ensued. Why, I could hear the unmistakable sound of good furniture breaking," Uncle Nelly cried.
"Not the beautiful Federal writing table you gave them for their last anniversary?" Joe cried in alarm.
Uncle Nelly nodded solemnly. He and Willy had raced to the Hardly house only to behold a terrible sight. "I'm afraid so, son."
The Hardly boys grew silent at the grim news. They were riding in Nancy's snappy convertible, with their uncle and his chum Willy in the back seat, trying to get the story straight while Nancy steered her large automobile swiftly, yet cautiously, through heavy evening traffic, anxious to get to the scene of the crime.
Frank could scarcely believe what was happening. Just minutes ago, he had been part of a gay scheme involving a simple dognapping and a love life gone awry; now he was leading an investigation in which his own parents were the victims!
Cherry sat in the front seat next to Nancy, her heart pounding in excitement and her cap sitting a little askew. "Golly, I've never been a Kidnap Nurse before," Cherry thought with a mixture of excitement and worry. Good thing she always made it a point to carry
plenty of rope-burn salve wherever she went!
"Perhaps one of the many scalawags he's put behind bars has finally made good on his threat to pay him back," Joe offered.
"Does your father have many enemies?" Cherry asked innocently. Who wouldn't like a swell guy like Fennel P. Hardly-crackerjack detective, loving father and doting husband to Mrs. Hardly?
Frank fixed a level gaze on Cherry. "I don't mean to alarm you, Nurse, but my father's work brings him in contact with many a nefarious character. Who knows where the kidnapper's trail will lead us."
Cherry clutched her firstaid kit to her bosom. "It's my job to go wherever I'm needed, and if the search for patients leads me to dangerous or scary places, well, I agreed to that the day I swore to nurse the sick and comfort the disturbed while keeping my uniform clean and starched."
Frank nodded solemnly. "I thought as much. Why, when I saw you on the patio wearing that attractive summer frock and your nurse's cap, I thought, 'There is one committed girl.' "
Cherry blushed with pride.
Joe tried to ready himself by taking inventory of the Hardly Boys Official Detective Kit. He ticked off the contents.
"Magnifying glass, portable microscope, calipers for measuring lengths of things, rubber gloves for messy inspections, one magnet, a pocket-size Geiger counter, chalk for outlining objects, collapsible telescope, walkie-talkies, file and bobby pins for picking locks, handcuffs, a handy rope, a can of grease for getting out of tight jams, and some dried prunes and graham crackers in case we have to hole up somewhere."
"No one touch anything when we get there," Frank warned Cherry, Uncle Nelly and Willy.
"Unless we find your parents bleeding from a gash in the head," Cherry corrected him.
"Right," Frank said. "Other than that, no one's to touch a thing until we dust for fingerprints. And don't walk on the grass. You might destroy valuable evidence, like suspicious shoe prints or tire marks."
