The Tower Treasure thb-1

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The Tower Treasure thb-1 Page 11

by Franklin W. Dixon


  moment the school bell rang and the young people had to separate.

  Frank and Joe were deeply concerned by what they had just heard. At lunch

  they met Jerry, Phil, Tony, and Chet Morton and told them the news. "This is

  tough on Slim," Phil remarked.

  "Tough on the whole family," Chet declared.

  The boys discussed the situation from all angles and racked their brains for

  some way in which they could help the Robinsons. They concluded that only

  the actual discovery of the stolen jewels and bonds would clear Mr. Robinson

  of the suspicion which hung over him.

  "That means there's only one thing to do," Frank said. "We must find that

  loot!"

  After school he and Joe played baseball for the required period, then went

  directly home. They had no heart for further sports activities. It was a dull,

  gloomy day, indicative of rain and this did not raise the boys' spirits.

  Frank, who was restless, finally suggested, "Let's take a walk."

  "Maybe it'll help clear the cobwebs from our brains," Joe agreed.

  They told their mother they would be home by suppertime, then set off. The

  brothers walked mile after mile, and then, as they turned back, they were

  drawn as if by magnets to Tower Mansion.

  "This place is beginning to haunt me," said Joe, as they walked up the

  driveway.

  Suddenly Frank caught his brother's arm. "I just had an idea. Maybe Jackley

  in his deathbed confession was confused and meant some other robbery he

  committed. Besides, at some time in every mystery the most innocent-seeming

  people become suspect. What proof is there that the Applegates haven't

  pulled a hoax? For reasons of their own they might say that the things had

  been stolen from their safe. Don't forget that Dad didn't find any fingerprints

  on it except Mr. Applegate's."

  "Frank, you've got a point there. That man and his sister act so mean

  sometimes, I wouldn't put it past them to be trying to cheat the insurance

  company," said Joe.

  "Exactly," his brother agreed. "For the moment, let's play it this way. We'll

  pretend they're suspects and do a little spying about this place."

  Instantly the boys left the roadway and disappeared among the shrubbery

  that lined it. Making their way cautiously, they moved forward toward Tower

  Mansion. The place was in darkness with the exception of three lighted

  rooms on the first floor.

  "What's your idea, Frank?" his brother whispered. "To learn something that

  might tell us whether or not the Applegates are implicated in the robbery?"

  "Yes. Maybe we'll get a clue if we keep our eyes and ears open."

  The boys walked forward in silence. They approached the mansion from the

  end where the old tower stood. Somewhere, not far from them, they suddenly

  heard footsteps on the gravel walk. In a flash the brothers dodged behind a

  tree. The footsteps came closer and the boys waited to see who was

  approaching. Was it one of the Applegates, or someone else?

  Before they could find out, the person's footsteps receded and the boys

  emerged from their hiding place. Suddenly a glaring light was beamed

  directly on them.

  It came from the top room of the old tower!

  CHAPTER XVIII

  A Startling Deduction

  "DUCK!" Frank ordered in a hoarse whisper, quickly dropping to the

  ground.

  Instantly Joe threw himself face down alongside his brother.

  "You think the person with the flashlight in the tower saw us?" Frank

  asked.

  "He could have, but maybe not. We sure went down fast."

  The strong flashlight was not trained on them again. It was beamed out a

  window of the tower in another direction, then turned off.

  "Well, what say?" Joe asked. "Shall we go on up to the mansion and

  continue our sleuthing?"

  Frank was of the opinion that if they did, they might get into trouble. Even if

  they had not been recognized, the person in the tower probably had spotted

  them.

  "I'd like to find out who was in the tower," Joe argued. "It's just possible

  that the Applegates don't know anything about him."

  Frank laughed quietly. "Don't let your imagination run away with you," he

  advised.

  As the boys debated about whether to leave the grounds or to go forward, the

  matter was suddenly taken out of their hands. From around the corner of the

  tower rushed a huge police dog, growling and barking. It apparently had

  scented the brothers and was bounding directly toward them.

  Frank and Joe started to run pell-mell, but were unable to keep ahead of the

  dog. In a few moments he blocked their path menacingly and set up a

  ferocious barking.

  "I guess we're caught," Frank said. "And I hope this old fellow won't take a

  piece out of my leg."

  The two boys tried to make friends with the animal, but he would not let them

  budge.

  "Well, what do we do now?" Joe asked in disgust as the dog continued to

  growl menacingly.

  "Wait to be rescued," Frank replied tersely.

  A moment later they saw a bobbing light coming in their direction and

  presently Mr. Applegate appeared. He looked ,at the boys in complete

  astonishment.

  "You fellows never give up, do you?" he remarked. "What have you been

  doing-more digging?"

  The brothers did not reply at once. They were embarrassed at having been

  discovered, but relieved that the man did not suspect what they had really

  intended to do. The owner of Tower Mansion took their lack of response to

  mean he was right.

  "I'm just not going to have any more of my grounds ruined," he said gruffly.

  "I've borrowed this watchdog, Rex, and he's going to keep everybody away.

  If you have any reason for wanting to see me, you'd better phone first, and I'll

  keep Rex chained."

  "Who was up in the tower with a flashlight?" Frank asked the elderly man.

  "My sister. She got it into her head that maybe she was smarter than you

  fellows and could find the stolen stuff in the old tower, but she didn't!" Frank

  and Joe suppressed grins as he went on. "And then Adelia decided to flash

  that high-powered flashlight around the grounds, thinking we might have a

  lot of curious visitors because of the publicity. Apparently she picked you

  up."

  The boys laughed. "Yes, she did," Frank admitted. "Between her and Rex, I

  guess you needn't worry about any prowlers."

  Frank and Joe said good night to Hurd Applegate and started down the

  driveway. This time the dog did not follow them. He remained at the man's

  side until the Hardys were out of sight.

  As they trudged homeward, Joe remarked, "This seems to be our day for

  exciting events that fizzle out like wet fireworks."

  "Yes. Nothing to show for all our work."

  At supper both Mr. and Mrs. Hardy laughed at the boys' story of their

  encounter with the dog. Then they became serious when Frank asked his

  father if he thought there was a chance that the Applegates might be guilty of

  falsely reporting a robbery.

  "It's possible, of course," the detective answered. "But the Applegates are so

  well-to-do I can't see any point in their trying such a thing. I
believe it's best

  for us to stick to the original idea -that someone really did take jewels and

  securities from the safe, and that the person was Jackley."

  As the boys were going to bed that night, Frank remarked to his brother,

  "Tomorrow is Saturday and we have the whole day free. I vote we set

  ourselves the goal of solving the mystery before night."

  "A big order, but I'm with you," Joe replied with a grin.

  They were up early and began to discuss what course of sleuthing they should

  follow.

  "I think we ought to start off on a completely new tack," Joe suggested.

  "In which direction?" Frank asked him.

  "In the direction of the railroad."

  Joe went on to explain that one thing they had not done was find out about

  Red Jackley's habits when he had worked around Bayport. If they could talk

  to one or more persons who had known him, they might pick up some new

  clue which would lead them to the stolen property.

  "Good idea, Joe," his brother agreed. "Let's take our lunch and make an

  all-day trip on our motorcycles."

  "Fine."

  Mr. Hardy had left the house very early, so his sons did not see him. When his

  wife heard the boys' plan, she thought it an excellent one and immediately

  offered to make some sandwiches for them. By the time they were ready to

  leave she had two small boxes packed with a hearty picnic lunch.

  "Good-by and good luck!" Mrs. Hardy called as the brothers rode off.

  "Thanks, Mother, for everything!" the young detectives chorused as they

  started off.

  When Frank and Joe reached the Bayport railroad station, they questioned

  the stationmaster, and learned that he had been with the company only a year

  and had not known Red Jackley.

  "Did he work on a passenger train?" the man asked.

  "I don't think so," Frank replied. "I believe he was employed as a

  maintenance man."

  "Then," said the stationmaster, "I'd advise you to go out along the highway

  to the railroad crossings and interview a couple of old flagmen who are still

  around. Both of them seem to know everybody and everything connected with

  the railroad for the past fifty years." He chuckled.

  The boys knew of two grade crossings some miles out of town and now

  headed for them. At the first one they learned that the regular flagman was

  home ill and his substitute had never heard of Red Jackley. Frank and Joe

  went on.

  At the next crossing they found old Mike Hal-ley, the flagman there, busy at

  his job. His bright blue eyes searched their faces for a moment, then he

  amazed them by saying, "You're Frank and Joe Hardy, sons of the famous

  detective Fenton Hardy."

  "You know us?" Frank asked. "I must confess I don't recall having met you

  before."

  "And you ain't," the man responded. "But I make it a rule to memorize every

  face I see in the newspapers. Never know when there's goin' to be an

  accident and I might be called on to identify some people."

  The boys gulped at this gruesome thought, then Frank asked Halley if he

  remembered a railroad man named Red Jackley.

  "I recollect a man named Jackley, but he wasn't never called Red when I

  knew him. I reckon he's the same fellow, though. You mean the one that I

  read went to jail?"

  "That's the man!"

  "He out of the pen yet?" Mike Halley questioned.

  "He died," Joe replied. "Our dad is working on a case that has some

  connection with Jackley and we're just trying to find out something about

  him." "Then what you want to do," said the flagman, "is go down to the

  Bayport and Coast Line Railroad. That's where Jackley used to work. He

  was around the station at Cherryville. That ain't so far from here." He

  pointed in a northerly direction. "Thanks a million," said Frank. "You've

  helped us a lot."

  The brothers set off on their motorcycles for Cherryville. When they came to

  the small town, a policeman directed them to the railroad station, which was

  about a half mile out of town. The station stood in a depression below a new

  highway, and was reached by a curving road which ran parallel to the tracks

  for several hundred feet.

  The building itself was small, square, and very much in need of paint. A few

  nearby frame buildings were in a bad state of disrepair. An old wooden water

  tank, about seventy yards from one side of the station house, sagged

  precariously. At the same distance on the other side rose another water tank.

  This one, painted red, was of metal and in much better condition.

  Frank and Joe parked their motorcycles and went into the station. A man in

  his shirt sleeves and wearing a green visor was bustling about behind the

  ticket window.

  "Are you the stationmaster?" Frank called to him.

  The man came forward. "I'm Jake-stationmaster, and ticket seller, and

  baggage slinger, and express handler, and mail carrier, and janitor, and even

  rice thrower. You name it. I'm your man."

  The boys burst into laughter, then Joe said, "If there's anybody here who can

  tell us what we want to know, I'm sure it's you. But first, what do you mean

  you're a rice thrower?"

  The station agent guffawed. "Well, it don't happen often, but when a bride

  and groom comes down here to take a train, I just go out, grab some of the

  rice, and throw it along with everybody else. I reckon if that'll make 'em

  happy, I want to be part of the proceedin's."

  Again the Hardys roared with laughter. Then Frank inquired if the man had

  known Red Jackley.

  "I sure did," Jake replied. "Funny kind of fellow. Work like mad one minute,

  then loaf on the job the next. One thing about him, he never wanted nobody to

  give him any orders."

  "Did you know that he died recently?" Frank asked.

  "No, I didn't," the stationmaster answered. "I'm real sorry to hear that.

  Jackley wasn't a bad sort when I knew him. Just got to keepin' the wrong

  kind of company, I guess."

  "Can you tell us any particular characteristics he had?" Frank questioned.

  Jake scratched his head above his visor. Finally he said, "The thing I

  remember most about Jackley is that he was a regular monkey. He was

  nimble as could be, racin' up and down freight-car ladders."

  At that moment they heard a train whistle and the man said hurriedly, "Got

  to leave you now, boys. Come back some other time when I ain't so busy. Got

  to meet this train."

  The Hardys left him and Frank suggested, "Let's eat our lunch and then

  come back."

  They found a little grove of trees beside the railroad tracks and propped their

  motorcycles against a large tree.

  "I'm starved," said Frank, seating himself under the tree and opening his box

  of lunch.

  "Boy, this is good!" Joe exclaimed a moment later as he bit hungrily into a

  thick roast beef sandwich.

  "If Jackley had only stayed with the railroad company," Frank observed as

  he munched a deviled egg, "it would've been better for everyone."

  "He sure caused a lot of trouble before he died," Joe agreed.

  "And he's caused a lot more since, the way things have gone. For the

  Robinsons, especially."
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  The boys gazed reflectively down the tracks, gleaming in the sun. The rails

  stretched far into the distance. Only a few hundred feet from the place where

  they were seated, the Hardys could see both water tanks: the dilapidated,

  weatherbeaten wooden one, with some of the rungs missing from the ladder

  that led up its side, and the squat, metal tank, perched on spindly legs.

  Frank took a bite of his sandwich and chewed it thoughtfully. The sight of the

  two water towers had given him an idea, but at first it seemed to him too

  absurd for consideration. He was wondering whether or not he should

  mention it to his brother.

  Then he noticed that Joe, too, was gazing intently down the tracks at the

  tanks. Joe raised a cooky to his lips absently, attempted a bite, and missed

  the cooky altogether. Still he continued gazing fixedly in the same direction.

  Finally Joe turned and looked at his brother. Both knew that they were

  thinking the identical thing.

  "Two water towers," Frank said in a low but excited tone.

  "An old one and a newer one," Joe murmured.

  "And Jackley said-"

  "He hid the stuff in the old tower."

  "He was a railroad man."

  "Why not?" Joe shouted, springing to his feet "Why couldn't it have been

  this old water tower he meant? He used to work around here."

  "After all, he didn't say the old tower of Tower Mansion. He just said 'old

  tower'!"

  "Frank, I believe we've stumbled on a terrific due!" Joe said jubilantly. "It

  would be the natural thing for Jackley to come to his former haunts after the

  robbery!"

  "Right!" Frank agreed.

  "And when he discovered that Chet's jalopy was gone, he probably thought

  that the police were hot on his trail, so he decided to hide the loot some place

  he knew-where no one else would suspect. The old water tower! This must be

  the place!"

  CHAPTER XIX

  Loot!

  LUNCH, motorcycles-everything else was forgotten! With wild yells of

  excitement, Frank and Joe hurried down the embankment which flanked the

  right of way.

  But as they came to a fence that separated the tracks from the grass and

  weeds that grew along the side, they stopped short. Someone on the highway

  above was sounding a car horn. Looking up, they recognized the driver.

  Smuff!

  "Oh, good night!" Joe cried out.

  "The last person we want to see right now," Frank said in disgust.

 

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