The Secret of the Old Mill (10 page)

“I'll keep circling the block until you come out,” Chet called as he drove away.

There was no sign of Ken's bicycle outside the building. The Hardys rushed into the lobby and immediately were met by a five-o'clock crowd of office workers streaming from the elevators. Frank and Joe made their way through the throng, but saw no sign of Ken.

Joe had an idea. “Maybe he was making the delivery to Mr. Peters, the name I saw on the Manila envelope I picked up the other day. Let's see if Ken's still in his office.”

The boys ran their eyes down the building directory, but Mr. Peters was not listed. The brothers questioned the elevator starter, who replied that so far as he knew, no one by the name of Peters had an office in the building.

Joe asked the starter, “Did you notice a boy wearing dungarees and a bright-red shirt in the lobby a few minutes ago?”

“Sure,” was the prompt reply. “Just before the five-o'clock rush started. I saw the boy come in and give an envelope to a man waiting in the corner over there. The man took the envelope and they both left right away.”

“I guess he must be Mr. Peters,” Frank said.

“Could be,” the starter agreed. “I didn't recognize him.”

As the Hardys hurried outside, Joe said, “Well, we got crossed up on that one. Let's get back to the mill. Ken will have to drop off the bike.”

The brothers waited at the curb for Chet. In a few minutes the Queen pulled up. “All aboard!” Chet sang out. “Any luck?”

“No.”

When Frank told Chet they were returning to the mill, their good-natured friend nodded. “It's fortunate I bought these sandwiches,” he said, indicating a paper bag on the seat beside him. “I had a feeling we'd be late to supper.”

Joe snapped his fingers. “That reminds me. I'll stop and phone our families so they won't wait supper for us.”

After Joe had made the calls and they were on their way again, he told Frank and Chet that Mr. Hardy had left a message saying he would not be home until after ten o'clock.

As the Queen went down the side road past the Elekton buildings, Frank thought, “If Dad
is
working for Elekton, he might be somewhere in the plant right this minute.”

The same possibility was running through Joe's mind. “Wonder if Dad is expecting a break in his secret case.”

As Chet neared the turn into the mill road, a green truck zoomed out directly in front of the Queen. Chet jammed on his brake, narrowly avoiding a collision. The truck swung around the jalopy at full speed and roared off toward the highway.

“The green truck we saw before!” Joe exclaimed. “This time I got the license number, but couldn't see the driver's face.”

“Let's follow him!” Frank urged.

Chet started back in pursuit. “That guy ought to be arrested for reckless driving!” he declared indignantly.

The Hardys peered ahead as they turned right onto the main road, trying to keep the truck in sight. Suddenly the boys heard a tremendous bo-o-om and felt the car shake.

“An explosion!” Joe cried out, turning his head. “Look!”

Against the sky a brilliant flash and billows of smoke came from the direction of Elekton. Another explosion followed.

“The plant's blowing up!” Joe gasped.

CHAPTER XIII

THE roar of the explosion and the sight of smoke and flames stunned the three boys for a moment. Chet stepped on the brake so fast that his passengers hit the dashboard.

“Take it easy!” urged Frank, although he was as excited as Chet.

All thoughts of chasing the mysterious green truck were erased from the Hardys' minds.

“Let's get as close as possible,” Frank said tersely, as Chet headed the car back toward the plant. “I'd like to know what—”

Frank broke off as a series of explosions occurred. The brothers sat forward tensely.

As the Queen drew near the main entrance, the boys could see that the flames and smoke were pouring from a single building at the northeast corner.

“It's one of the labs, I think,” said Frank.

Quickly Chet pulled over and parked, and the boys hopped out of the jalopy. The series of explosive sounds had died away, but the damage appeared to be extensive. Most of the windows in the steel-and-concrete building had been blown out by the force of the blast.

Smoke and flames were pouring out of the blackened spaces where the windows had been. As the boys ran toward the front, the roof of the west wing caved in. The rush of oxygen provided fuel for a new surge of flames that reached toward the sky.

“Lucky this happened after closing time,” Chet murmured, staring wide-eyed at the fire. “There might have been a lot of injuries.”

“I hope no one was inside.” Joe exchanged worried glances with his brother. Both shared the same concern. It was for their father.

“I wish we could find out whether or not Dad's at Elekton,” Frank whispered to Joe.

At this point, the boys heard the scream of sirens. Soon fire trucks and police cars from Bayport pulled up at the front gate. The Hardys saw Chief Collig in the first police car. They rushed up to him and he asked how they happened to be there.

“Sleuthing,” Frank answered simply. Without going into detail, he added, “Joe and I aren't sure, but we have a hunch Dad may have been— or still is—here at Elekton. All right if we go into the grounds and look around?” he asked eagerly. “And take Chet?”

The officer agreed.

By this time the guard had opened the wide gate, and the fire apparatus rushed in. Some of the police officers followed, while others took positions along the road and directed traffic so it would not block the path of emergency vehicles.

As the boys rode inside with the chief, Joe asked him, “Any idea what caused the explosion?”

“Not yet. Hard to tell until the firemen can get inside the building.”

When they reached the burning structure, Chief Collig began directing police operations, and checking with the firemen. As soon as they seemed to have the flames under control, the firemen entered the laboratory building to look for any possible victims of the explosions.

The Hardys and Chet, meanwhile, had searched the outdoors area for Mr. Hardy, but did not see the detective.

“Maybe we were wrong about Dad's coming here,” Joe said to his brother, more hopeful than before. “Dad probably wouldn't have been in the lab.”

The brothers went back to Chief Collig, who told them he had not seen Fenton Hardy. Just then the fire chief came up to the group.

“I'll bet this fire was no accident,” he reported grimly to Collig. “The same thing happened in Indiana about two months ago—and that was sabotage!”

Frank and Joe stared at each other. “Sabotage!” Joe whispered.

A startling thought flashed into Frank's mind, and, drawing his brother aside, he exclaimed, “Remember what we overheard Dad say on the phone? ‘The same eight-and-one pattern. I'll be there.' ”

“And two months equal about eight weeks,” Joe added excitedly. “That might have been the saboteurs' time schedule Dad was referring to! So maybe the explosion at Elekton was set for today!”

Frank's apprehension about his father returned full force. “Joe,” he said tensely, “Dad might have been inside the lab building trying to stop the saboteurs!”

Deeply disturbed, the Hardys pleaded with Chief Collig for permission to enter the building and search for their father.

“I can tell you're worried, boys,” the officer said sympathetically. “But it's still too risky for me to let you go inside. It'll be some time before we're sure there's no danger of further explosions.”

“I know,” Frank agreed. “But what if Dad is in there and badly hurt?”

The police chief did his best to reassure the brothers. “Your father would never forgive me if I let you risk your lives,” he added. “I suggest that you go on home and cheer up your mother in case she has the same fears you do. I promise if I see your dad I'll call you, or ask him to.”

The boys realized that their old friend was right, and slowly walked away. Frank and Joe looked back once at the blackened building, outlined against the twilight sky. Wisps of smoke still curled from the torn-out windows. It was a gloomy, silent trio that drove to the Hardy home in the Queen.

Frank and Joe decided not to tell their mother or aunt of their fear, or to give any hint of their suspicions. When the boys entered the living room, both women gave sighs of relief. They had heard the explosions and the subsequent news flashes about it.

Aunt Gertrude looked at the boys sharply. “By the way, where have you three been all this time? I was afraid that you might have been near Elekton's.”

Frank, Joe, and Chet admitted that they had been. “You know we couldn't miss a chance to find out what the excitement was about,” Joe said teasingly, then added with an assurance he was far from feeling, “Don't worry. The fire was pretty much under control when we left.”

To change the subject, Frank said cheerfully, “I sure am hungry. Let's dig into those sandwiches you bought, Chet!”

“Good idea!” Joe agreed.

“Are you sure you don't want me to fix you something hot to eat?” Mrs. Hardy asked.

“Thanks, Mother, but we'll have enough.” Frank smiled.

Chet called his family to let them know where he was, then the three boys sat down in the kitchen and halfheartedly munched the sandwiches. Aunt Gertrude bustled in and served them generous portions of deep-dish apple pie.

“This is more super than usual,” Chet declared, trying hard to be cheerful.

The boys finished their pie, but without appetite. When they refused second helpings, however, Aunt Gertrude demanded suspiciously, “Are you ill—or what?”

“Oh, no, Aunty,” Joe replied hastily. “Just—er—too much detecting.”

“I can believe that!” Miss Hardy said tartly.

The evening dragged on, tension mounting every minute. The boys tried to read or talk, but their concern for the detective's safety made it impossible to concentrate on anything else.

Eleven o'clock! Where
was
their father? Frank and Joe wondered.

“Aren't you boys going to bed soon?” Mrs. Hardy asked, as she and Aunt Gertrude started upstairs.

“Pretty soon,” Frank answered.

The three boys sat glumly around the living room for a few minutes until the women were out of earshot.

“Fellows,” said Chet, “I caught on that you're sure your dad is working on an important case for Elekton, and it's a top-secret one—that's why you couldn't say anything about it.”

“You're right,” Frank told him.

Chet went on to mention that his father had heard of various problems at Elekton—produc—tion stoppages caused by power breaks, and, before the buildings were completed, there were reports of tools and equipment being missing.

“This ties in with our hunch about the secrecy of Dad's case,” Frank said. “The company must have suspected that major sabotage was being planned, and retained Dad to try and stop it.”

Talking over their speculations helped to relieve some of the tension the boys felt and made the time pass a little faster as they waited for news of Fenton Hardy.

“I wonder how the saboteurs got into the plant?” Joe said, thinking aloud. “Both the gates are locked and well guarded. It seems almost impossible for anyone to have sneaked in the necessary amount of explosives—without inside help.”

A sudden thought flashed into Frank's mind. He leaped to his feet. “The green truck!” he exclaimed. “It was unmarked, remember? It could have been carrying dynamite—camouflaged under ordinary supplies!”

“That could be, Frank!” Joe jumped up. “If so, no wonder it was in such a rush! I'll phone the chief right now and give him the truck's license number.”

Frank went with Joe to the hall telephone. As they approached the phone, it rang. The bell, shattering the tense atmosphere, seemed louder than usual.

“It must be Dad!” exclaimed the brothers together, and Chet hurried into the hall.

Frank eagerly lifted the receiver. “Hello!” he said expectantly.

The next moment Frank looked dejected. He replaced the receiver and said glumly, “Wrong number.”

The Hardys exchanged bleak looks. What
had
happened to their father?

CHAPTER XIV

THE HARDYS' disappointment in discovering that the telephone call was not from their father was intense. Nevertheless, Joe picked up the receiver and dialed police headquarters to report the truck's license number.

“Line's busy,” he said.

Joe tried several more times without success. Suddenly he burst out, “I can't stand it another minute to think of Dad perhaps lying out there hurt. Let's go back to Elekton and see if we can learn something.”

“All right,” Frank agreed, also eager for action, and the three rushed to the front door.

Just as they opened it, the boys saw the headlights of a car turning into the driveway.

“It's Dad!”
Joe barely refrained from shouting so as not to awaken Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude.

The detective's sedan headed for the garage at the back of the house. Heaving sighs of thankful relief, the boys quietly hurried through the house into the kitchen to meet him.

“Are we glad to see you, Dad!” Frank exclaimed as he came into the house.

His father looked pale and disheveled. There was a large purple bruise on his left temple. He slumped wearily into a chair.