The Secret of Pirates' Hill Read Online Free Page B

dressed in work clothes.
    â€œWho gave you the tip?” Frank asked.
    â€œI can’t tell you that. The information was given to me in confidence.”
    Frank was tempted to ask Bowden why he wanted a fieldpiece for a ship. But recalling his father’s admonition to play along with the suspect, he merely said:
    â€œSorry we knocked you down, Mr. Bowden. Let us know if you want us to help dig here.”
    Joe followed Frank’s cue to be pleasant. “We went to the motel to see you this morning,” he said. “Frank and I thought we’d talk to you a little more about the cannon you want us to find.”
    Frank broke in. “We saw the warning note on your door.” He watched Bowden closely.
    â€œWarning note?” the man repeated, showing real surprise. After Frank explained, Bowden suddenly laughed. “I guess those kids at the motel were pulling a joke on me. They were playing cops-and-robbers when I left.” He glanced at his wrist watch. “I must get back.”
    He strode off in the direction of the road. Joe turned to Frank. “Do you believe that cops-and-robbers story?”
    â€œNo. I didn’t see any children around that motel. You know, one of us ought to follow Bowden and send the police up here.”
    â€œGood idea,” Joe said. “You go; I’ll stay.”
    While he concealed himself to stake out the cabin, Frank cautiously tailed the suspect. “I’ll bet we interrupted some kind of meeting,” he said to himself.
    Bowden walked toward a green Pontiac hardtop parked on the road and roared off. Frank followed in the convertible, memorizing the Pontiac’s license number. He was disappointed when the man drove directly to his motel, took the note off his door, and went into his cabin. When he had not come out fifteen minutes later, Frank decided to call Chief Collig and drove to a gas station.
    The police chief agreed to send two men to the woods and Frank returned to the spot where he had left his brother.
    â€œAnything doing?” he asked when he arrived at Joe’s hideout.
    Joe shook his head and Frank told him about Bowden and Chief Collig. Ten minutes later the boys were relieved by two plainclothesmen.
    The Hardys hurried through the woods and drove on to Delmore. It was nearly noon when they arrived at the motorcycle shop.
    â€œGood morning,” said the short, smiling proprietor, who introduced himself as Mr. Braun.
    â€œWe’re interested in Kesselrings,” Frank replied. “Do you sell them?”
    â€œYes, I have the agency. But I haven’t sold any motorcycles in a long time. One’s been standing in my basement for weeks.”
    Frank and Joe looked at each other. Was their clue going to lead nowhere?
    Joe said, “We’d like to see it.”
    The three descended a flight of wooden stairs. The man walked around a high pile of cartons, then suddenly exclaimed:
    â€œMy Kesselring! It’s gone! Stolen!”
    Mr. Braun excitedly went on to say that he had been away on vacation for two weeks and had just returned. The Kesselring had been there when he left.
    â€œAch, what will I do?” he wailed.
    Frank laid a hand on his shoulder.
    â€œYou may get it back this very day,” he said. He told of finding the motorcycle at the cabin and of the policemen now at the spot waiting to capture the thief. The dealer was overjoyed.
    Frank at once telephoned this latest development to Chief Collig, while Mr. Braun thanked the boys repeatedly. Then they said good-by and left. After a quick lunch at a nearby diner they returned to their convertible.
    â€œJoe, I have a hunch,” said Frank. “That motorcycle thief might be a recently released in. mate of the penitentiary. Mr. Braun’s shop here in Delmore would be a likely place for him to rob. Let’s call on Warden Duckworth and ask him some questions.”
    â€œGood idea.”
    The warden was an old friend of Mr.