Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
CHAPTER I - Spying by Telescope
CHAPTER II - Thief at Work
CHAPTER III - Landslide!
CHAPTER IV - The Rescue
CHAPTER V - Pretzel Pete
CHAPTER VI - The Strange Message
CHAPTER VII - The Hidden Trail
CHAPTER VIII - A Cap on a Peg
CHAPTER IX - Plan of Attack
CHAPTER X - A Watery tunnel
CHAPTER XI - Cliff Watchers
CHAPTER XII - The Secret Passage
CHAPTER XIII - A Startling Discovery
CHAPTER XIV - Captured
CHAPTER XV - Dire Threats
CHAPTER XVI - Quick Work
CHAPTER XVII - Hostages
CHAPTER XVIII - Coast Guard Action
CHAPTER XIX - The Chase
CHAPTER XX - The Smuggler’s Request
Match Wits with The Hardy Boys®!
Collect the Original Hardy Boys Mystery Stories®
by Franklin W. Dixon
The Tower Treasure
The House on the Cliff
The Secret of the Old Mill
The Missing Chums
Hunting for Hidden Gold
The Shore Road Mystery
The Secret of the Caves
The Mystery of Cabin Island
The Great Airport Mystery
What Happened at Midnight
While the Clock Ticked
Footprints Under the Window
The Mark on the Door
The Hidden Harbor Mystery
The Sinister Signpost
A Figure In Hiding
The Secret Warning
The Twisted Claw
The Disappearing Floor
The Mystery of the Flying Express
The Clue of the Broken Blade
The Flickering Torch Mystery
The Melted Coins
The Short-Wave Mystery
The Secret Panel
The Phantom Freighter
The Secret of Skull Mountain
The Sign of the Crooked Arrow
The Secret of the Lost tunnel
The Wailing Siren Mystery
The Secret of Wildcat Swamp
The Crisscross Shadow
The Yellow Feather Mystery
The Hooded Hawk Mystery
The Clue in the Embers
The Secret of Pirates’ Hill
The Ghost at Skeleton Rock
The Mystery at Devil’s Paw
The Mystery of the Chinese Junk
Mystery of the Desert Giant
The Clue of the Screeching Owl
The Viking Symbol Mystery
The Mystery of the Aztec Warrior
The Haunted Fort
The Mystery of the Spiral Bridge
The Secret Agent on Flight 101
Mystery of the Whale Tattoo
The Arctic Patrol Mystery
The Bombay Boomerang
Danger of Vampire Trail
The Masked Monkey
The Shattered Helmet
The Clue of the Hissing Serpent
The Mysterious Caravan
The Witchmaster’s Key
The Jungle Pyramid
The Firebird Rocket
The Sting of the Scorpion
Hardy Boys Detective Handbook
The Hardy Boys Back-to-Back
The Tower Treasure/The House
on the Cliff
Celebrate 60 Years with the World’s Greatest Super Sleuths!
“Maybe I can give you a tip where to find
your father,” said Pretzel Pete
PRINTED ON RECYCLED PAPER
Copyright © 1987, 1959, 1955, 1927 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc., a member of The Putnam & Grosset Group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. .S.A.
THE HARDY BOYS® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.
eISBN : 978-1-440-67316-0
1998 Printing
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CHAPTER I
Spying by Telescope
“So YOU boys want to help me on another case?” Fenton Hardy, internationally known detective, smiled at his teen-age sons.
“Dad, you said you’re working on a very mysterious case right now,” Frank spoke up. “Isn’t there some angle of it that Joe and I could tackle?”
Mr. Hardy looked out the window of his second-floor study as if searching for the answer somewhere in the town of Bayport, where the Hardys lived. Finally he turned back and gazed steadfastly at his sons.
“All right. How would you like to look for some smugglers?”
Joe Hardy’s eyes opened wide. “You mean it, Dad?”
“Now just a minute.” The detective held up his hand. “I didn’t say capture them; I just said look for them.”
“Even that’s a big assignment. Thanks for giving it to us!” Frank replied.
The lean, athletic detective walked to a corner of the study where a long, narrow carrying case stood. Tapping it, he said:
“You boys have learned how to manipulate this telescope pretty well. How would you like to take it out onto that high promontory above the ocean and train it seaward? The place I mean is two miles north of the end of the bay and eight miles from here.”
“That would be great!” said seventeen-year-old, blond-haired Joe, his blue eyes flashing in anticipation.
Frank, who was a year older than his brother and less impetuous, asked in a serious tone of voice, “Dad, have you any ideas about the identity of any of the smugglers?”
“Yes, I do,” Mr. Hardy answered his tall, dark-haired son. “I strongly suspect that a man named Felix Snattman is operating in this territory. I’ll give you the whole story.”
The detective went on to say that he had been engaged by an international pharmaceutical company to trace stolen shipments of valuable drugs. Reports of thefts had come from various parts of the United States. Local police had worked on the case, but so far had failed to apprehend any suspects.
“Headquarters of the firm is in India,” the detective told the boys. “It was through them that I was finally called in. I’m sure that the thefts are the result of smuggling, very cleverly done. That’s the reason I suspect Snattman. He’s a noted criminal and has been mixed up in smuggling rackets before. He served a long term in prison, and after being released, dropped out of sight.”
“And you think he’s working around Bayport?” Joe asked. He whistled. “That doesn’t make this town a very healthy place to live in!”
“But we’re going to make it sol” Mr. Hardy declared, a ring of severity in his voice.
“Just where is this spot we’re to use the telescope?” Frank asked eagerly.
“It’s on the Pollitt place. You’ll see the name at the entrance. An old man named Felix Pollitt lived there alone for many years. He was found dead in the house about a month ago, and the place has been vacant ever since.”
“It sounds as if we could get a terrific range up and down the shore from there and many miles across the water,” Frank remarked.
Mr. Hardy glanced at his wrist watch. “It’s one-thirty now. You ought to be able to go out there, stay a fair amount of time, and still get home to supper.”
“Oh, easily,” Joe answered. “Our motorcycles can really burn up the road!”
His father smiled, but cautioned, “This telescope happens to be very valuable. The less jouncing it receives the better.”
“I get the point,” Joe conceded, then asked, “Dad, do you want us to keep the
information about the smugglers to ourselves, or would it be all right to take a couple of the fellows along?”
“Of course I don’t want the news broadcast,” Mr. Hardy said, “but I know I can trust your special friends. Call them up.”
“How about Chet and Biff?” Joe consulted Frank. As his brother nodded, he said, “You pack the telescope on your motorcycle. I’ll phone.”
Chet Morton was a stout, good-natured boy who loved to eat. Next to that, he enjoyed being with the Hardys and sharing their exciting adventures, although at times, when situations became dangerous, he wished he were somewhere else. Chet also loved to tinker with machinery and spent long hours on his jalopy which he called Queen. He was trying to “soup up” the motor, so that he could have a real “hot rod.”
In contrast to Chet, Biff Hooper was tall and lanky. To the amusement—and wonder—of the other boys, he used his legs almost as a spider does, covering tremendous distances on level ground or vaulting fences.
A few minutes later Joe joined his brother in the garage and told him that both Chet and Biff would go along. Chet, he said, had apologized for not being able to offer the Queen for the trip but her engine was “all over the garage.” “As usual,” Frank said with a grin as the two boys climbed on their motorcycles and set out.
Presently the Hardys stopped at Biff Hooper’s home. He ran out the door to meet them and climbed aboard behind Joe. Chet lived on a farm at the outskirts of Bayport, about a fifteen-minute run from the Hooper home. The stout boy had strolled down the lane to the road and was waiting for his friends. He hoisted himself onto Frank’s motorcycle.
“I’ve never seen a powerful telescope in operation,” he remarked. “How far away can you see with this thing?”
“It all depends on weather conditions,” Frank replied. “On a clear day you can make out human figures at distances of twenty-four miles.”
“Wow!” Chet exclaimed. “We ought to be able to find those smugglers easily.”
“I wouldn’t say so,” Biff spoke up. “Smugglers have the same kind of boats as everybody else. How close do you have to be to identify a person?”
“Oh, about two and a half miles,” Joe answered.
The motorcycles chugged along the shore road, with Frank watching his speedometer carefully. “We ought to be coming to the Pollitt place soon,” he said finally. “Keep your eyes open, fellows.”
The boys rode on in silence, but suddenly they all exclaimed together, “There it is!”
At the entrance to a driveway thickly lined with trees and bushes was a stone pillar, into which the name “Pollitt” had been chiseled. Frank and Joe turned into the driveway. The only part of the house they could see was the top of the roof. Finally, beyond a lawn overgrown with weeds, they came upon the tall, rambling building. It stood like a beacon high above the water. Pounding surf could be heard far below.
“This place sure looks neglected,” Biff remarked.
Dank, tall grass grew beneath the towering trees. Weeds and bushes threatened to engulf the whole building.
“Creepy, if you ask me,” Chet spoke up. “I don’t know why anybody would want to live here.”
The house itself was in need of repair. Built of wood, it had several sagging shutters and the paint was flaking badly.
“Poor old Mr. Pollitt was probably too sick to take care of things,” Frank commented, as he looked at several weed-choked flower beds.
To the Hardys’ disappointment, the sky had become overcast and they realized that visibility had been cut down considerably. Nevertheless, Frank unstrapped the carrying case and lugged it around to the front of the house.
He unfastened the locks and Joe helped his brother lift out the telescope and attached tripod, pulling up the eye-end section first.
Biff and Chet exclaimed in admiration.
“Boy, that’s really neat!” Chet remarked.
He and Biff watched in fascination as Frank and Joe began to set up the telescope. First they unfastened the tape with which the tube and tripod legs were tied together. Joe turned the three legs down and pulled out the extensions to the desired height. Then Frank secured the tripod legs with a chain to keep them from spreading.
“What’s next?” Biff asked.
“To get proper balance for the main telescope tube we slide it through this trunnion sleeve toward the eye end, like this.” After doing so, Frank tightened the wing nuts on the tripod lightly.
Joe picked up the balance weight from the carrying case and screwed it into the right side of the telescope tube about one third the distance from the eyepiece.
“This’ll keep the whole thing from being top heavy,” he pointed out.
“And what’s this little telescope alongside the big one for?” Chet queried.
The House on the Cliff grin. He squinted through the ends of both the large and the small telescopes. “I can’t see a thing,” he complained.
Joe laughed. “And you won’t until I insert one of the eyepieces into the adapter of the big telescope and put another eyepiece into the finder.”
of the eyepieces into the adapter of the big telescope and put another eyepiece into the finder.”
In a few minutes the Hardys had the fascinating device working. By turning a small knob, Frank slowly swung the telescope from left to right, and each boy took a turn looking out across the water.
“Not a boat in sight!” said Chet, disappointed.
Frank had just taken his second turn squinting through the eyepiece when he called out excitedly, “I see something!”
He now began a running account of the scene he had just picked up. “It’s not very clear ... but I see a boat ... must be at least six miles out.”
“What kind of boat?” Joe put in.
“Looks like a cruiser ... or a cutter.... It’s not moving.... Want to take a look, Joe?”
Frank’s brother changed places with him. “Say, fellows, a man’s going over the side on a ladder ... and, hey! there’s a smaller boat down below.... He’s climbing into it.”
“Can you see a name or numbers on the big boat?” Frank asked excitedly.
“No. The boat’s turned at a funny angle, so you can’t see the lettering. You couldn’t even if the weather was clearer.”
“Which way is the man in the small boat heading?” Biff asked.
“He seems to be going toward Barmet Bay.”
Joe gave up his position to Biff. “Suppose you keep your eye on him for a while, and also the big boat. Maybe it’ll turn so you can catch the name or number on the box.”
Chet had been silent for several moments. Now he said, “Do you suppose they’re the smugglers?”
“Could be,” Frank replied. “I think we’d better leave and report this to Dad from the first telephone we—”
He was interrupted by the sudden, terrifying scream of a man!
“Wh-where did that come from?” Chet asked with a frightened look.
“Sounded as if it came from inside,” Frank answered.
The boys stared at the house on the cliff. A moment later they heard a loud cry for help. It was followed by another scream.
“Somebody’s in there and is in trouble!” Joe exclaimed. “We’d better find out what’s going on!”
Leaving the telescope, the four boys ran to the front door and tried the knob. The door was locked.
“Let’s scatter and see if we can find another door,” Frank suggested.
Frank and Joe took one side of the house, Biff and Chet the other. They met at the rear of the old home and together tried a door there. This, too, was locked.
“There’s a broken window around the corner,” Biff announced. “Shall we climb in?”
“I guess we’d better,” Frank answered.
As the boys reached the window, which seemed to open into a library, they heard the scream again.
“Help! Hurry! Help!” came an agonized cry.
CHAPTER II
Thief at Work
JOE w
as first to slide through the broken window. “Wait a moment, fellows,” he called out, “until I unlock this.”
Quickly he turned the catch, raised the window, and the other three boys stepped inside the library. No one was there and they ran into the large center hall.
“Hello!” Frank shouted. “Where are you?”
There was no answer. “Maybe that person who was calling for help has passed out or is unconscious,” Joe suggested. “Let’s look around.”
The boys dashed in various directions, and investigated the living room with its old-fashioned furnishings, the dining room with its heavily carved English oak set, the kitchen, and what had evidently been a maid’s bedroom in days gone by. Now it was heaped high with empty boxes and crates. There was no one in any of the rooms and the Hardys and their two friends met again in the hall.
“The man must be upstairs,” Frank decided.
He started up the front stairway and the others followed. There were several bedrooms. Suddenly Chet hung back. He wanted to go with his pals but the eeriness of the house made him pause. Biff and the Hardys sped from one to another of the many rooms. Finally they investigated the last of them.
“Nobody here! What do you make of it?” Biff asked, puzzled.
Chet, who had rejoined the group, said worriedly, “M-maybe the place is haunted!”
Joe’s eyes were searching for an entrance to the third floor. Seeing none, he opened three doors in the hall, hoping to find a stairway. He saw none.
“There must be an attic in this house,” he said. “I wonder how you get to it.”
“Maybe there’s an entrance from one of the bedrooms,” Frank suggested. “Let’s see.”
The boys separated to investigate. Suddenly Frank called out, “I’ve found it.”
The others ran to where he had discovered a door behind a man’s shabby robe hanging inside a closet. This in turn revealed a stairway and the group hurriedly climbed it, Chet bringing up the rear.
The attic room was enormous. Old newspapers and magazines were strewn around among old-fashioned trunks and suitcases, but there was no human being in sight.
“I guess that cry for help didn’t come from the house at all,” Biff suggested. “What’ll we do now? Look outdoors?”
The House on the Cliff Page 1
