The Shattered Helmet Read Online Free

to suppress giggles, but a few boys openly guffawed.
    Saffel wheeled around and glared at Chet while daubing at the wetness with a breast pocket handkerchief.
    â€œI’m sorry, Leon,” Chet said. “It was one of those things. I get the hiccups sometimes.”
    â€œWell, get them somewhere else!” Saffel fumed. Then he did a double-take. “How come you know my name?”
    â€œWhy—er—I’ve heard about you.”
    â€œHow’s that?”
    â€œSome of my friends saw you lying down in Bayport Airport.”
    Saffel’s eyes scanned the other faces. “So! You’re here!” he said, having discovered the Hardys and Evan.
    Frank stepped forward. “Look, Saffel. Why don’t you let bygones be bygones? We’re all here to learn something about film-making, and we should be friends.” He held out his hand.
    Leon tossed his head. “I’m particular about my friends!”
    The red-haired young man said, “You fellows better kiss and make up now, because you might be working together later on.”
    â€œSays who?”
    â€œSays Jeff Riker, one of your instructors.” He winked at the pianist and left.
    â€œYou’d better believe him,” said the player. Hestarted another lively tune and the tension was broken.
    Half an hour later the pianist stopped playing. He walked over to the Hardys and their friends. “I’m Johnny Almquist,” he said, and shook hands. “I teach English at Hunt and drop in for a look-see during the film course.” He continued in a low voice, “Don’t be too hard on Saffel. I understand he’s a rich kid. Sort of spoiled, you know. He ate in town tonight because he didn’t like the carrots on our menu.”
    â€œHe sounds like a doll,” Frank said, then added, “Thanks for the tip. We’ll try to be nice to him.”
    â€œOkay. See you around. Don’t forget, the first meeting is at nine tomorrow morning.”
    Before going to bed, the boys told Chet about their latest mystery—the search for the ancient helmet.
    â€œSorry,” Chet said, “but I think this is one case you’re not going to solve.”
    Evan looked disappointed and Chet added, “You’ve got absolutely nothing to go on.”
    â€œWell,” Frank reasoned, “if we could dig up a copy of
The Persian Glory
, we could find out what the helmet looks like and take it from there. And Hunt might just be the place to start. Some of these film people might give us a lead.”
    The first lecture next morning was given by Jeff Riker in a small theater packed with young people.
    â€œMotion pictures used to be strictly entertainment, but are now beginning to gain recognition as an art form,” Riker said. “As we discuss techniques, we will study old films at the same time.”
    The theater darkened and two reels of a classic comedy were shown. Discussion followed about the overdrawn acting and the fine lighting for the period in which the movie was made.
    â€œWith the arrival of sound movies,” Jeff went on, “not much attention was paid to the oldies. Many were mislaid in studios. Some were destroyed by fires. Others were stolen. But films have a way of turning up in some forgotten vault or dusty attic, or in the hands of private collectors.”
    Frank whispered to Joe, “Jeff Riker would be the one to ask about
The Persian Glory.
”
    After class the instructor was besieged by enthusiastic questioners. The Hardys had to wait until lunch to talk with Riker. They found him sitting alone at the far end of the cafeteria.
    â€œHi, fellows,” he said as they approached. “What can I do for you?”
    â€œWe’re looking for an old film,” Frank replied.
    â€œPull up chairs.”
    The boys told about the lost helmet, the recovery of which hinged on locating the movie in which it was used.
    â€œThere are no photos of this