The Bombay Boomerang Read Free Page B

antiquated jalopy—fire—engine red, bucking like a bronco and backfiring explosively with nearly every revolution of the cylinders.
    Roly-poly Chet Morton guided his favorite vehicle to a stop at the curb and jumped out. “I’ve just been to your house,” he said. “Your mother says your dad phoned from Baltimore. She looked so worried, I think there’s something brewing. You’re to contact your father before you do anything else.”
    The Hardys glanced up at the second floor of the hotel and spotted a scowling face at the window of the room they had just left. Beret stared down on them, a slightly baffled expression on his face.
    Had he heard Chet’s booming voice clearly enough to understand the message from Fenton Hardy? If so, it could mean trouble, and plenty of it!
    Biff came up with an idea. “Suppose I stay here to keep an eye on these birds? If they come out, I’ll tail them. That’ll give you a chance to go home and put in that call to Baltimore. We’ll meet here later and compare notes.”
    â€œI’ll keep you company,” Tony suggested. “Just in case you need some reinforcement.”
    â€œGood thought,” Frank said. “Let’s go.”
    â€œI’ll take you in my car,” Chet offered.
    â€œAnd arrive with an aching back!” Joe groaned.
    Everybody ragged Chet Morton about his bone-rattling car. But he wheeled it around the busy streets of Bayport, and boasted a good safety record, partly because pedestrians and motorists who heard him coming got out of the way.
    Right now the Hardys were glad to have Chet give them a lift to their house. While Chet went into the kitchen looking for one of Aunt Gertrude’s specialties which were usually available, Frank dialed the number of his father’s hotel. The detective answered almost immediately.
    â€œLet me call you right back,” he said. “Stand by!”
    A few minutes later the phone rang. Frank picked it up, while Joe ran upstairs to the study to listen in on the extension.
    â€œI didn’t want this call to go through the switchboard here,” Mr. Hardy explained. “Someone might eavesdrop on us.”
    â€œDad, what’s going on?” Frank wanted to know.
    â€œWell, not too much on my end,” his father replied. “However, I’m not discouraged. I picked up a few leads that are worth checking out. Right now I’m posing as a hood. It’s the best disguise for undercover operations along the waterfront where hoods hang out.”
    Frank interjected, “Do you realize that the mercury gang is on to you? They came to our house hoping to find you here. And when we went to their hotel to check up on them, they got violent over your part in the case. Said to get off their backs—or else!”
    The news surprised Mr. Hardy, who listened grimly to Frank’s detailed account of the events that afternoon.
    â€œObviously word has gotten around that I’m working on the case. You and Joe better watch your step as long as those two mugs are loose in Bayport. It was a good idea to have Biff tail them. Perhaps they’ll lead him to something.”
    â€œI hope so. What’s your next step, Dad?”
    â€œWell, I’m not exactly in the safest spot here. The thieves might even know that Hardy and Marks are the same man.”
    â€œIf that guy in the hotel heard Chet mention that you’re in Baltimore, they might put two and two together!” Frank said.
    â€œThey might and they might not. I have no choice but to continue as L. Marks and play it by ear.”
    Frank and his father batted the details around to be sure of covering all angles. Finally Mr. Hardy said, “The Bayport pair look like our best bet right now. They probably rank on a lower echelon of the organization and receive strong-arm assignments from the top. They might lead you to the ringleader. Try not to let them shake you and tail