The girls clung together in fright.
"What is it, Callie?" cried Frank.
Speechless, the girl pointed upward. From the top of the bluff a wild-looking old man with a
long, dirty white beard was pointing a shotgun at them.
His clothes were torn, and he wore a battered felt hat. The weird figure stood motionless,
silhouetted against the blue sky. The afternoon sunlight gleamed on the barrels of his weapon.
"He must be the hermit," muttered Joe.
"Git off my island!" came the strong, deep voice of the old man. The shotgun jerked
threateningly. "Git, I say!"
"We'd better do as he says," Frank advised.
He took Callie's arm. Joe grabbed Iola's. The six young people scooted for the beach.
As they followed the path, the Hardys and their friends could see the strange man darting from rock to rock along the top of the bluff above them. He did not let them out of his sight. When they reached the boats, Frank and Joe quickly helped the girls safely aboard the Sleuth.
Joe took the wheel while Frank cast off. The Sleuth and the Napoli were run just out of shotgun range, then throttled down while their passengers took another look at their adversary. The old man stood in the same threatening attitude on the hilltop.
"You know," Frank noted, "for an old fellow he has a powerful voice."
"He's plenty spry, too," Joe added. "Did you see how he jumped across those rocks? He's nimble as a goat!"
"And did you notice his shotgun?" Frank asked. "It was very well cared for; not like his beard and clothes!"
"There was no nonsense about that gun," Joe agreed. "I'd like to know what the man's trying to keep us away from!"
"Maybe he just wants to be left alone," Callie suggested.
"After all, he is a hermit," added Iola.
"Whatever he is," declared Joe, "I'd like to get a closer look at him sometime."
Joe put on power and the Sleuth shot forward over the water. The Napoli trailed close behind.
As the island dropped astern, Frank remarked, "I can still make out the hermit. He's standing motionless on that hilltop."
The two speedboats crossed the wide expanse of Bayport harbor and came to rest at Tony's
dock.
"Say, you fellows don't have any transportation down here," Jerry recalled. "Shall I pick you up at your boathouse?"
"No, thanks," Frank replied. "Joe and I came out to do some sleuthing. We'll walk. We have a few stops to make."
"Okay, we'll give Iola and Callie a lift, then." They helped the girls ashore and Frank and Joe waved good-by.
After locking the Sleuth in her berth, Frank and Joe walked to the center of town. "Let's stop at headquarters," Frank suggested as they approached the familiar stone building. "Maybe there's some new word on Sutton."
The boys found Chief Collig in conference with Lieutenant Daley.
"It's all right. Come in, fellows," the chief invited. "Daley's been over at the hospital. Sutton has regained consciousness."
"What did he say?" Frank inquired eagerly.
"He claims he doesn't know who beat him up," replied Lieutenant Daley. "Says he was hit from behind and never saw his attacker."
"But that can't be true!" Frank protested. "The bruises I saw were mostly on his face."
"Oh, he knows who did it, all right," Lieutenant Daley agreed. "Only he's covering up for somebody.
Why should he try to protect that big fellow he tried to frame last night?"
"How about Alf?" Joe broke in. "What's his story?"
"We have Lundborg in a cell," Lieutenant Daley answered. "Of course he denies any part in the beating."
"We can't hold him much longer," put in Chief Collig. "There's no evidence against him."
"Of course not! Alf wouldn't beat up a fellow half his size," Joe declared.
"Then why did Sutton mumble Lundborg's name in his delirium?" the chief countered.
"Sutton had a grudge against Alf. It must have been on his mind," Frank suggested.
"That could be," Chief Collig conceded. "How have you two boys been making out? Any new dues on Chet or Biff? We have none."
"No, we haven't," Frank answered. "We went out to Hermit Island on a hunch this afternoon, but had no luck there, either."
"Do you know anything about that hermit, Chief?" Joe inquired.
"A little," the chief returned. "Remember him, Daley? Queer old bird. Somebody left him the whole island in a will. He said it was just the place he wanted, to get away from the crazy
world!"
"Yes." The tall lieutenant chuckled. "He moved out there for good some years ago. Never let anybody land on his island."
"We found that out. He chased us off pretty fast this afternoon," Joe said.
"Wha-a-t?" drawled the lieutenant, turning for a good look at the boy.
"Who are you kidding?" Chief Collig grinned.
"What's so funny?" Joe asked. "He threatened us with a shotgun."
"That's impossible," Chief Collig said flatly. "He's dead!"
Frank and Joe looked at each other in astonishment. "Then he's a mighty spry dead man," Joe declared.
Chief Collig shook his head. "The hermit died last fall and the Coast Guard brought him back to the mainland for burial. He had no one to leave the island to, so it belongs to the state."
"Wow!" Joe cried out. "Then the man we saw isn't the real hermit and had no right to order us off."
"Right," Chief Collig agreed. "It's state property. Anyone can go there. My jurisdiction doesn't cover it.
Report this man to the Coast Guard."
"We will, if he bothers us again," Frank stated.
After leaving the police station, the young detectives walked along Bayport's main street
toward Mr.
French's costume store.
"That phony hermit wasn't joking," Frank said. "He wanted us off the island and no fooling.
What do you think he's up to?"
Joe stopped short and said excitedly, "What if Chet and Biff were taken to Hermit Island?"
"Then this faker might know about the kidnaping. Is he in on the game, too?"
"The old guy could be holding them prisoner," Joe went on. "That's why he chased us away! He didn't dare risk having us looking around."
"Hermit Island isn't very far away from Shantytown," Frank said. "The rubber mask we found could have
floated out from one place as well as from the other, depending on the tide."
"But how about the pieces of the boys' costumes the police found among the shacks?" Joe asked, perplexed. "How do they fit in with the Hermit Island theory?"
"Chet and Biff could've been transported to the island from Shantytown," reasoned Frank.
As he spoke, the brothers came to the costume shop. "I hope Mr. French is here," Frank said.
"We'll ask him why he-"
The boys suddenly gasped and stared in amazement at the big display window of the store. In it were a gorilla and a magician costume!
"The same kind of suits we were wearing the night Biff and Chet disappeared!" Frank cried out.
"Yes," Joe agreed in high excitement. "And that was the night of the bank robbery!"
CHAPTER XIV
Signal Three
"THERE'S something queer about this costume store," Frank said positively. "Maybe the bank robbers got their masks here!"
"And Mr. French came to our house in the middle of the night to tell us about it, then lost his nerve," Joe added.
"Why are the same costumes in this window as those we wore?" Frank wondered. "Are they a signal to somebody?"
"There's one way to find out," Joe replied. "We'll ask Mr. French himself." He pushed the heavy glass door.
It was locked. Peering inside the store, the boys saw that it was deserted. A shaft of light from the back room pierced the late-afternoon shadows within. Joe banged on the heavy glass with
his knuckles but no one came.