The Yellow Feather Mystery Read Online Free

the studs go all the way around?” Joe asked, flipping up Tass’s coat.
    â€œHey, cut that out!” Benny blustered.
    Frank stepped in front of Tass, blocking him.
    â€œWe were interested in the belt,” he said, “because it looks just like one worn by somebody who was listening outside a certain door.”
    Benny fidgeted uneasily. “What door?”
    â€œThe one to the guest room! I’m trying to locate the person who strung a wire across the hall and tripped me.”
    Tass tried to hide a smirk but was not successful.
    â€œWould you mind telling us,” Joe demanded, “what you’ve been doing for the past two hours?”
    â€œIt’s none of your business!”
    With that, Tass elbowed past the trio and moved into the dining hall. Greg and the Hardys selected a table near the door and were soon enjoying a delicious lunch. When they had finished, Greg asked what the Hardys would like to do next.
    â€œShadow Benny Tass,” Joe spoke up. “I’m not satisfied that he wasn’t the snooper.”
    â€œThe job’s yours,” said Frank. “I want to keep tabs on Kurt and learn more about the campus.”
    To Joe’s disappointment, Benny spent most of the afternoon alone in his room. The only time he left it was to go to Kurt’s office. The bits of conversation Joe could hear concerned a request of the student to drop his chemistry course for the second semester.
    Frank learned nothing of importance either, but did get the layout of the school buildings clear in his mind—the field house and gymnasium, the riding stables, even the watchman’s shed.
    Just before six o’clock the Hardys started for home. On the bumpy snow-covered road, Frank became aware of another car behind him. Evidently the driver was in a hurry, for he blasted his horn continuously.
    â€œAll right, take it easy,” Frank murmured, pulling as far to the right as he dared. “Wait till I find a place wide enough for you to get by.”
    But the other driver was too impatient. Roaring up, he started to pass with barely an inch of clearance. A second later he sideswiped Frank and there came the sound of ripping metal. The other car skidded slightly, righted itself, and raced off.
    The Hardy convertible, out of control for a moment, skidded along a few feet, then Frank brought it to a stop. He and Joe got out to examine the damage. Angrily the boys stared at the twisted, crushed left fender.
    â€œThe idiot!” Joe cried. “That driver might have killed us!”
    â€œAnd did you see his passenger?” Frank exclaimed. “He sure looked like Henry Kurt!”
    â€œGood night!”
    â€œBy the way,” Frank continued, pulling with all his strength to get the fender away from the wheel, “did you get that car’s license number?”
    â€œNo,” Joe replied. “I kept watching where we’d end up.”
    â€œSame with me,” his brother said ruefully. “Maybe there’s another clue. I’m going to find that guy and make him pay for the damage!”
    â€œLook at this!” interrupted Joe, bending down in the glare of the headlights.
    Clearly outlined in the hard-packed snow were the tracks of the speeding car. One of them indicated that the left rear snow tire had a deep cut in it.
    â€œThis is a good lead,” Joe stated.
    â€œYou’re right,” Frank agreed. He pulled a pad and pencil from his pocket and made a sketch of the evidence.
    The boys drove the rest of the way home without incident. Upon arriving, they found a telephone message from Chet stating that he wanted them to meet him at Biff Hooper’s cabin up the river late the following morning.
    â€œWe can’t let him down,” Frank said.
    Early the next day the boys took their car to a garage to be repaired. Then they set off to do several errands for their mother. They were walking briskly out of a hardware store when a