An Unexpected Find
THROWING out the dirt in great spadefuls, Frank uncovered the chest completely. It was about two feet long, six inches wide, and a foot deep.
“The treasure!” Joe cried out, running up.
Mr. Hardy was at his son’s heels and looked in amazement at Frank’s discovery. The boy lifted the chest out of the hole and instantly began to raise the lid on which there was no lock.
Everyone held his breath. Had the Hardys really uncovered the jewels and securities stolen from the Applegates? Frank flung back the lid.
The three sleuths stared at the contents. They had never been more surprised in their lives. Finally Joe found his voice.
“Nothing but a lot of flower bulbs!”
The first shock of disappointment over, the detective and his sons burst into laughter. The contents of the chest were such a far cry from what they had expected that now the situation seemed ridiculous.
“Well, one thing is sure,” said Frank. “Red Jack-ley never buried this chest. I wonder who did?”
“I can answer that,” a voice behind them replied, and the Hardys turned to see Hurd Apple-gate, clad in bathrobe and slippers, walking toward them.
“Good morning, Mr. Applegate,” the boys chorused, and their father added, “You see we’re on the job. For a couple of moments we thought we had found your stolen property.”
Hurd Applegate’s face took on a stern look. “You didn’t find my securities,” he said, “but maybe you have found a clue to the thief. Robinson buried that chest full of bulbs. That’s what he’s done with Adelia’s jewelry and my securities! He’s buried them some place, but I’d be willing to bet anything it wasn’t on the grounds here.”
Frank, realizing the man was not in a good humor this morning, tried to steer the conversation away from the stolen valuables. “Mr. Applegate,” he said, “why did Mr. Robinson bury these flower bulbs here?”
The owner of Tower Mansion gave a little snort. “That man’s nutty about unusual flowers. He sent to Europe for these bulbs. They have to be kept in a cool, dark place for several months, so he decided to bury them. He’s always doing something queer like that. Why, do you know what he tried to get me to do? Put up a greenhouse here on the property so he could raise all kinds of rare flowers.”
“That sounds like a swell hobby,” Joe spoke up.
“Swell nothing!” Mr. Applegate replied. “I guess you don’t know how much greenhouses cost. And besides, growing rare flowers takes a lot of time. Robinson had enough to do without fiddling around with making great big daisies out of little wild ones, or turning cowslips into orchids!”
Frank whistled. “If Mr. Robinson can do that, he’s a genius!”
“Genius-that’s a joke!” said Mr. Applegate. “Well, go on with your digging. I want this mystery cleared up.”
It was decided that Mr. Hardy, with his superior powers of observation, would scrutinize the ground near both towers. Wherever it looked as if the ground had been turned over recently, the boys would dig at the spot. The chest of flower bulbs was carefully replaced and the dirt shoveled over it.
“Here’s a place where you might dig,” Mr. Hardy called presently from the opposite side of the old tower. When the boys arrived with their spades, he said, “I have an idea a dog dug up this spot and probably all you’ll find is a beef bone. But we don’t want to miss anything.”
This time Joe’s spade hit the object which had been buried. As his father had prophesied, it proved to be only a bone secreted by some dog.
The three Hardys transferred their work to the new tower. All this time Hurd Applegate had been looking on in silence. From the corners of their eyes, the Hardys could catch an expression of satisfaction on the elderly man’s face.
Mr. Hardy glanced at his wrist watch, then said, “Well, boys, I guess this is our last try.” He indicated another spot a few feet away. “You fellows must get cleaned up and go to school.”
Undaunted by their failures so far, Frank and Joe dug in with a will. In a few moments they had uncovered another small chest.
“Wow, this one is heavy!” Frank said as he lifted it from the hole.
“Then maybe-maybe it’s the stolen property!” Joe exclaimed.
Even Mr. Applegate showed keen interest this time and leaned over to raise the lid himself. The box contained several sacks.
“The jewels!” Joe cried out.
“And that flat-shaped sack could contain the securities!” Frank said enthusiastically.
Mr. Applegate picked up one of the circular bags and quickly untied the string wound about the top. His face took on a look of utter disgust. “Seeds!” he fairly shouted.
Mr. Hardy had already picked up the flat sack. He looked almost as disappointed as Mr. Apple-gate. “Flower catalogs!” he exclaimed. “They seem to be in various foreign languages.”
“Oh, Robinson was always sending for things from all over the world,” the Tower Mansion owner remarked. “I told him to destroy them. He paid too much attention to that stuff when he might have been doing something useful. I suppose he buried the catalogs, so I wouldn’t find them.”
After a long breath the elderly man went on, “Well, we’ve reached the end of the line. You Hardys haven’t proved a thing, but you’ve certainly torn up my house and grounds.”
The three sleuths had to admit this was true but told him they were still fired by two hopes: to clear Mr. Robinson of the charge against him, and to find the stolen property. As they put their spades back into the Hardy car, Mr. Applegate invited them into the house to wash and have a bite to eat.
“I guess you boys could do with a second breakfast,” he added, and the brothers thought, “Maybe at times Mr. Applegate isn’t such a bad sort.”
They accepted the invitation and enjoyed the meal of waffles and honey. Their father then drove them to Bayport High.
Frank and Joe had no sooner stepped from the car than they heard their names called. Turning, they saw Iola Morton and Callie Shaw coming toward them.
“Hi, boys!”
“Hi, girls!”
“Say, did you hear what happened early this morning?” Callie asked.
“No. School called off for today?” Joe asked eagerly.
“I wish it were.” Callie sobered. “It’s about Mr. Robinson. He’s been arrested again!”
“No!” The Hardys stared at Callie, thunderstruck. “Why?” Frank demanded.
Iola took up the story, saying that she and Chet had heard the bad news on the radio that morning. They had stopped at the Robinsons’ home, when their father brought them to school, to find out more about what had happened.
“It seems that Chief Collig has an idea Mr. Robinson was in league with the thief Jackley, that man your father got the confession from. So he arrested him. Poor Mrs. Robinson! She doesn’t know what to do.”
“And Mr. Robinson had just managed to find another job,” Callie said sadly. “Oh, can’t you boys do something?”
“We’re working on the case as hard as we can,” Frank replied, and told the girls about their sleuthing the evening before and early that morning. At that 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!