Frank looked around the store quickly and the stranger at the drug counter selecting [some
toothpaste.
The suitcase was on the floor beside him. As they watched, the man picked up the toothpaste
and his bag, and went up front to the checkout counter. He took out a bill and gave it to the
woman cashier.
Immediately Smuff went into action. He dashed from behind the balloons and across the front
of the store. Elbowing several customers out of the way, he grasped the man by the arm and in
a loud voice announced, "You're under arrest! Come with me!"
The man looked at Oscar Smuff as though he were crazy. So did the cashier. Other people
quickly crowded around.
"What's the matter?" someone called out.
The Hardys and Chet hurried forward, as the man pulled his arm away from Smuff's grasp and
demanded angrily, "What's the meaning of this?"
"You know very well what's the meaning of this," Smuff blustered, and grabbed the man's arm again.
"Now, miss"-Smuff turned to the cashier-"let me see the bill this man just gave you."
The woman was too surprised to refuse the request and handed the bill to the amateur
detective.
Smuff took the money. The Hardys stepped up and peered over his shoulder. The bill was a five-
dollar one. Suddenly the expression on Smuff's face changed to confusion and concern.
"Oh-er-a five-" he stuttered.
He dropped his hold on the man's arm and stared down at the floor. "Awfully sorry," he muttered. "It's been-a-mistake."
Both the man and the cashier looked completely bewildered. The next moment Smuff whirled
and dashed from the store.
The Hardys and Chet rushed after him. They were overwhelmed with curiosity as to what Smuff
thought the man had done. The boys soon overtook the would-be detective.
"What's up?" Joe demanded. "Looking for somebody suspicious?"
Oscar Smuff reddened when he realized the boys had witnessed his entire performance.
"Never mind," he said sharply. "I'll bet even you smart-aleck Hardys have made mistakes.
Anyhow, this is different. I'm helping the police on a very special, very confidential case."
As he made the last statement, Smuff shrugged off his look of embarrassment and assumed an
air of great importance.
"Well, I can't waste precious time gabbing with you three." Smuff turned and rushed off down the street.
The boys watched his bustling figure as he disappeared into the crowd. "I wonder what kind of case 'Detective' Smuff is working on?" Frank mused.
"I do too," Joe said, as Chet finally led the way into the Scientific Specialties Store.
Mr. Reed, the shop owner, stood behind the counter. He was a plump, pleasant man with a
shock of white hair that stood erect on his head.
"Have you come for your microscope, Chet?" he asked. As he spoke, the man's head bobbed up and down and his white hair waved back and forth as though blown by the wind.
"Yes, sir, Mr. Reed," Chet said enthusiastically. "My friends, Frank and Joe, are looking forward to trying out the microscope just as much as I am."
Joe smiled a little skeptically, but Frank agreed with his chum. Chet pulled out his wallet and emptied it of ten-and twenty-dollar bills. "Here you are, Mr. Reed. I've been saving for a long time so I could get the best."
"And the best this is." Mr. Reed smiled. "I'll get the microscope you want from the stockroom."
The proprietor picked up the money and disappeared into the back of the store.
While they waited, Chet pointed out the various instruments on display in the showcase. The
Hardys were surprised at how much Chet had learned about microscopes and their use.
After waiting five minutes, Chet grew impatient, "Wonder what's keeping Mr. Reed," he said. "I hope he has my 'scope in stock."
At that moment Mr. Reed returned. There was a look of concern on his face.
"Don't tell me you haven't got the model." Chet groaned.
Mr. Reed shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was solemn.
"It's not that, Chet," he said. "I'm afraid that one of the twenty-dollar bills you gave me is a counterfeit!"
CHAPTER III
An Unexpected Return
"COUNTERFEIT!" Chet burst out. "Counterfeit! It can't be. I just drew the money out of the bank this morning."
The Hardys, nonplused, stared at the twenty-dollar bill Mr. Reed was holding.
"I'm sorry, Chet," Mr. Reed said sympathetically. "But just a few days ago all the storekeepers in town were notified by the police to be on the lookout for fake twenties. Otherwise, I wouldn't have checked it.
I can't understand, though, why the bank didn't detect it."
Frank's mind raced. "Wait a minute!" he exclaimed. "Chet, what about the man you made change for at the station?"
"You're right, Frank!" Joe put in. "He must have passed Chet the phony twenty!"
"You mean he gave it to me on purpose?" Chet asked indignantly.
"It's possible," Frank said. "Of course it would be pretty hard to prove whether he did it intentionally or not."
"What did the man look like?" Joe questioned Chet. "We got only a glimpse of him running for the train.
He was medium height and stocky, but did you notice anything else about him?"
Chet thought for a few seconds. Then he said, "I do remember that the man had a sharp nose.
But he was wearing sunglasses and a slouch hat, so I didn't notice much else."
The Hardys tried to fix a picture of the man in their minds. Meanwhile, Chet looked gloomily at the bogus bill.
"What luck!" he complained. "Here I am cheated out of twenty dollars and the microscope."
"I'm sorry, Chet," Mr. Reed said. "I wish there was something I could do about it."
"Don't worry, Chet," said Joe. "You'll get the microscope, anyway." He turned to his brother.
"How much money do you have with you?" he asked. "I have five-fifty."
Frank emptied his pockets, but all he had was three dollars in change and bills.
"We'll lend you what we have," Joe offered. "Eight-fifty."
Although Chet protested, the Hardys insisted, and Mr. Reed added, "You can take the
microscope along and pay me the balance when you can."
Frank and Joe put their money on the counter, while Mr. Reed went to wrap the instrument.
"Thanks. You're real pals," Chet said gratefully.
When the store owner returned with the package, Chet said, "I'll go right down to Dad's office and borrow the balance. We'll get back here later this afternoon. Thanks very much, Mr. Reed."
The boys were about to leave when Frank had a sudden thought.
"Mr. Reed," he said, "would you let us borrow that counterfeit bill for some close study? We'll be sure to turn it over to Chief Collig."
"Swell idea," Joe said.
The proprietor, who was familiar with the Hardys' reputation as sleuths, readily assented. Frank put the bill in his pocket and the boys left the store.
They hurried back to Chet's car and drove to Mr. Morton's real-estate office several blocks
away. The office was on the street level of a small building. They entered and were greeted
pleasantly by Mr.
Morton's efficient secretary, Miss Benson.
"Hello, boys. Enjoying your summer vacation?"
"Yes, thanks, Miss Benson," Chet said, eying his father's empty desk. "When will Dad be back?"
"Your father's gone for the day, Chet," she replied. "He decided to go home early."
"That's funny," Chet mused. "Dad usually stays until five at least."
"We have time to drive out to the farm before we meet the train," Joe said. "Let's go."
The Morton farm was on the outskirts of Bayport. When Chet swung the car into the driveway,