021 The Clue of the Broken Blade by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon [Dixon, Franklin W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XII

The Sword Adalante

THE Bayporters placed their hands against the back wall of the house. One of the officers patted their bodies to see if they carried guns.

“They’re clean,” he growled to his companion. “All right, you can straighten up now.”

Frank and Joe noticed that two more policemen had emerged from the car and were going into the house. Seconds later a floodlight over the garage door went on. Obviously they had switched it on from inside.

The two officers standing next to Frank and Joe holstered their guns. They wore the uniforms of deputy sheriffs.

The back door opened and Mrs. Steele stepped out.

“These are the ones!” she said. “Thanks for getting here so fast, Officers.”

“Did you call the police about us?” Frank asked in astonishment.

“That’s right!”

“But why?”

“You’re thieves, aren’t you?” the woman said tartly.

The boys looked at each other, then back at Mrs. Steele. “Where did you get that idea?” Joe inquired.

“While you were outside fixing your horn, the phone rang. It was a man. He wouldn’t tell me his name, but he said to watch out for three young thieves who were working the neighborhood. He described you perfectly.”

Frank said to the deputies, “Someone must be trying to get us in trouble. We were visiting with Mrs. Steele when our horn started blowing. We went to fix it and found it had been shorted on purpose. Probably the same person did it who phoned Mrs. Steele while we were outside!”

The deputy with the deep voice said, “Do you have any identification with you?”

“Certainly,” Frank said, and all three handed over their driver’s licenses.

After examining them, the deputy said, “I see you’re all from Bayport. And two of you are named Hardy. Any relation to Fenton Hardy, the famous detective?”

“He’s our father,” Joe replied.

The deputy frowned at Mrs. Steele. “I don’t think the Hardy boys would steal anything, ma’am. You’ve heard of Fenton Hardy, haven’t you?”

“Yes, of course. They didn’t tell me they were his sons.”

“Well, now that you know, how do you feel about it? We’ll run them in if you want to sign a complaint.”

Mrs. Steele hesitated. “Couldn’t their identifications be faked? The man who phoned said they were thieves!”

Chet suddenly sat down on the back steps and put his hand to his forehead. “My brain’s beginning to feel fried again,” he said in a weak voice.

The deputy looked at him curiously. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Frank and Joe both realized Chet was acting. Joe said, “Aftereffect of the shock, I guess.”

“What shock?”

Mrs. Steele said hurriedly, “I suppose the boys really are who they claim, and whoever called was just trying to cause a lot of trouble.”

She gave Chet a fleeting glance and went on, “Perhaps I acted too hastily in phoning the sheriff. As you say, Fenton Hardy’s sons wouldn’t be thieves. Shall we just forget it? Will you boys come back inside?”

“What’s wrong with him?” the deputy repeated.

Chet made a miraculous recovery. Standing up, he said, “I had a little too much sun today, Officer, but I’m all right now.

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