The Flickering Torch Mystery Read Online Free Page A

to do that with an old piece of junk?” Frank pressed the point home, watching the man intently.
    The driver relaxed. “Oh, so you know about it? O. K. told me the job was a secret. All very hush-hush. He didn’t let on you guys were in on the operation.”
    Frank laughed loudly. So did Joe, who was backing Frank up.
    â€œWe’ve been in on it from the beginning,” Frank said. “Only O. K. didn’t tell us in advance about shifting the engine today.”
    The driver snickered. “Since you guys know so much, maybe you can tell me why Mudd had me drop the thing over the Marlin Crag Cliffs!”

CHAPTER IV
    Boat Crash
    THE Hardys were thunderstruck by the driver’s story. For a few seconds there was silence.
    Finally Frank remarked casually, “I guess Mr. Mudd didn’t have any use for that engine.”
    â€œIt was kind of beaten up,” Joe added. “We couldn’t care less what happened to it.”
    â€œMe neither,” the driver said.
    After they had driven a little more than an hour, the trucker said, “Bayport’s just ahead. Where do you want me to go?”
    â€œThe Morton Farm,” Frank replied. “It’s on the edge of town. Take the road to the right.”
    After bumping for a couple of miles over a roughly tarred surface, they came to a mailbox marked “Morton.” The driver turned into the entranceway and braked to a halt beside the house.
    Gleefully Chet jumped out of the back. He supervised while the other three lifted the fuselage off. “Right here, under this shed,” he called out. “Easy now, I don’t want it damaged.”
    â€œYour pal likes giving orders, don’t he?” the driver grumbled. “Why don’t he give us a hand?”
    â€œHe figures his brain is the most important part of the operation,” Frank puffed.
    â€œYou guys are hurting my feelings,” Chet said, finally grasping the fuselage. “Anybody’d think I was lazy.”
    Frank and Joe laughed as they released their burden and allowed it to settle into place under the shed. Chet paid the trucker, who stepped up into the cab and set off for Beemerville.
    Then Chet drove his friends to their home.
    â€œWell, I’m glad to see you’re in time for dinner!” a familiar voice greeted them.
    The speaker was their Aunt Gertrude. Although extremely fond of her two nephews, she never missed an opportunity to chide them about the dangerous risks they took when working on an assignment.
    â€œWe made a special effort to be on time, Aunty,” Frank said soothingly.
    â€œWe wouldn’t stand up the best cook in Bayport,” Joe chimed in.
    â€œYou’re a couple of flatterers,” Miss Hardy said, laughing. She looked pleased just the same. “Your mother and I are just about to serve. Hurry up!”
    Mrs. Hardy, a slim, pretty woman, greeted her sons with a hug as they sat down at the table.
    After the meal Frank and Joe went to their room and discussed O. K. Mudd and his suspicious actions.
    â€œWe know the radioactive engine was dumped over the cliffs,” Frank began, “but we don’t know where. That means we’ll have to search along the shore.”
    Joe nodded. “We can do it in the Sleuth.”
    The Sleuth was their powerboat. They kept it in a boathouse on Barmet Bay near their home, and used it mostly for fun. But several times the Hardys had relied on their craft in searching for criminals along the coast.
    â€œWhat about the tides?” Joe asked.
    Frank went to a cabinet where they stored their maritime charts. He removed one containing information about the tides of Marlin Crag, and placed it flat on the table.
    â€œIt’s a pretty narrow shore,” Joe commented, leaning over his shoulder.
    Frank agreed. “That means we’ll have to wait for low tide. The engine might have tipped out away from the cliffs. Could be under water at high