"Let's try the back entrance," Frank muttered.
An alley separated the costume store from the next building. The boys slipped along this
cobbled passageway to a dingy yard behind the shop. Quietly they stepped up to the rear door.
Voices could be heard inside.
As Joe raised his fist to knock, Frank grabbed his arm. "Wait! Listen!"
A man's voice droned on indistinguishably, then snapped out a single, sharp word.
"Kidnap!"
Breathless, Frank and Joe strained to hear more.
"You fools!" said a new voice derisively.
A third speaker broke in harshly. The phrase "no second mistake" rasped out clearly.
". . . signal three . . ." came another snatch.
The Hardys listened intently but were unable to catch any more of the conversation.
Silently Frank beckoned Joe into the alley. "I have a hunch!" he said. "Chet was wearing a gorilla suit just like mine. What if he and Biff were kidnaped in place of you and me?"
Joe's eyes widened with excitement. "Then the kidnapers are the bank robbers-and they would still be out to get us!" he exclaimed. "That's what they meant by 'no second mistake'!"
Frank nodded. "They're probably holding Chet and Biff because they're afraid to let them go!"
"But why were they after us in the first place?" Joe asked, puzzled.
"I don't know," Frank admitted. "But I have a plan. Come on! We must act fast!"
The boys ran from the alley and hailed a passing taxi. When they reached home, the brothers
found that their father had just returned and was in his study. Fenton Hardy listened in concern and amazement to his sons' discovery.
"How I'd like to pick up those thugs and question them!" he exclaimed. "But that would only tip them off."
"And we haven't enough evidence to hold them," Frank added.
Mr. Hardy frowned. "The best we can do is put a police tail on them and hope to find out more that way." He reached for the phone.
"Wait, Dad!" Frank pleaded. "I have a scheme. Joe and I will go back to the shop. We'll let them kidnap us. Then Collig's men will really have something on the gang and can nab them."
"I don't know," their father considered. "It's plenty risky."
"Please, Dad," Joe urged. "The faster we crack the case, the sooner we'll find Chet and Biff."
Fenton Hardy was concerned for his sons' safety, but was proud of their willingness to risk
capture for the sake of their missing chums.
"All right," he agreed. "I'll alert the police. We'll station ourselves outside the store. As soon as the gang tries to take you away, we'll close in!"
"Good," said Frank, satisfied.
As their father dialed headquarters, he checked his watch and said to Frank and Joe, "Give Collig and me twenty minutes from now to get set. Then go into the store."
The boys sped downtown on their motorcycles, parked near the costume shop, and slipped
down the alley. The men were still talking inside the back room of the store. The brothers
waited, eyes fixed on their wrist watches.
"Now!" Frank whispered at last. "Let's take the chance that 'signal three' means knock three times!"
The boys walked to the back door and Frank gave three hard raps.
Immediately the voices became silent. A lock clicked and the door swung a few inches inward. A man's face peered out at the boys. He was the speedboat pilot with the slicked-back hair-the
one Mr. Caine had identified as Ben Stark!
Frank and Joe gave no sign of recognition. Stark's eyes, however, widened in astonishment.
"I know the store is closed," Frank said to him, "but we need something desperately. We're the Hardy boys. May we come in?"
Stark's expression changed from amazement to oily politeness. "Of course, boys!" he answered, and swung the door wide. "Come right inside!"
Frank and Joe passed into a dim storeroom, lighted by a single bulb overhead. On one side, two tough-looking men they had never seen before eyed them in stunned silence. Ben Stark closed
the door and stood with his back against it.
"So you are the famous Hardy boys!" he said, smiling widely. "Of course I've heard of you, but I don't think we've met before."
Stark looked hard at them, but the boys' expressions betrayed nothing. He indicated his
companions.
"This is Mr. Moran and Mr. Duke," he said. Moran nodded. Duke, a lanky, pale-faced man, merely stared.
"Haven't I heard that you've been working on a new case?" Stark asked. "What do you suppose has happened to your missing friends?"
Recognizing the attempt to pump them, the young sleuths played along.
"They must have drowned," Frank replied sadly. He made no reference to the postcard in Chet's handwriting.
For a moment Stark looked puzzled. Then he said with exaggerated sympathy, "Isn't it strange there's been so much excitement in town lately? Even a bank robbery!"
"That won't be a mystery for long," Frank boasted to test the man's reaction. "My father, Fenton Hardy, has it practically solved. The robbers had better watch out!"
Ben Stark's oily smile faded. He looked hard at his two companions by the wall. Catching the
signal, the men left their places and casually drew nearer to Frank and Joe. Both boys sensed
the coming attack and summoned all their will power to appear nonchalant.
"By the way, where's Mr. French?" Joe asked, glancing casually around the room. There was no answer.
The next instant the three men lunged forward and leaped on the brothers!
Boxes tumbled from shelves in the struggle, and the single light bulb swung crazily from the
ceiling. Frank pretended to be fighting off his assailants, but finally he allowed his arms to be pinioned.
Joe, meanwhile, had been thrown against a bank of shelves and had fallen to the floor as
though stunned.
Panting, the men quickly bound, gagged, and blindfolded the two young detectives.
"Now," gloated Stark, "if your old man and the police don't call off the hunt for the bank robbers, they'll
never see you again!"
Frank and Joe listened intently, hoping to learn more, but the men said nothing further.
A door slammed. There was a short, silent wait. Then they heard a car engine running in the
yard behind the store.
"Okay!" came Stark's voice. "Coast is clear!"
Frank and Joe were lifted up, carried a little way, then dropped on the floor of the automobile.
Tensely the two boys waited to hear police whistles and Chief Collig barking orders. But the car began to move, rolling swiftly out the alley, and away.
"What happened to our plan?" Frank wondered. "Where's Dad?"
"We must have gone in too soon," Joe thought, dismayed. "The police couldn't get here in time!"
As the car drove on, Frank and Joe recognized the sounds of heavy traffic all around them.
Gradually the vehicle picked up speed. The engine purred steadily, and the tires whined along
on what could only be open highway.
Presently the car swerved, bumped over uneven ground a short distance, and stopped. In the
sudden silence the blindfolded youths could hear the sound of surf on the beach.
"We're near the shore," Frank reasoned. "Shantytown perhaps. The time it took getting here seems about the same as when we came before."
The car doors were opened. Again the boys were lifted and carried. A minute later each of
them felt a jarring pain as he was dropped on a wooden floor. Rough hands ripped away their
blindfolds.
Although tightly bound, the Hardys struggled to sitting positions. They were in a small board
shack. A little light came through a tiny window high up in one of the walls.
Ben Stark and Moran were going out the door. Stark looked back. "Keep your eyes open, Duke,"