The Clue of the Broken Blade Read Free

individuals. People who apply for machines are thoroughly investigated, however. If they are found to have any criminal connections, they’re turned down.”
    The strangers asked no more questions. They finished eating before the Hardys, gave them polite good-bys, and left.
    Frank said, “I think they were fishing for information, don’t you?”
    â€œYes,” Joe said. “But I wonder why. Do you think they are some kind of criminals?”
    â€œI’m pretty sure of it. Did you see how they looked at each other when I told them anyone who wanted to buy a spectrograph was investigated? In the morning we had better warn the people at the Voiceprint Lab to take extra precautions against burglary.”
    â€œBut why would criminals want a sound spectrograph?” Joe asked.
    Frank shrugged. “I don’t know. Anyway, it’s a good thing you didn’t spill the beans about Dad’s project.”
    â€œRight,” Joe said. “First time I’ve ever been thankful for a kick in the ankle.”
    They discussed Mr. Hardy’s catalog system. “I’m glad he put it in the Bayport Bank and Trust Company,” Frank said.
    Just then they heard the sound of someone leaving the booth on the other side of the partition. Suddenly realizing that whoever had been there had heard their conversation, the boys rose and peered over the top.
    They could only see the man’s back as he went out the door. He was broad-shouldered and thin-hipped, and wore a dark-blue suit. A black Homburg was perched on the back of his head.
    As the Hardys sank back into their seats, Frank said, “I hope he wasn’t a crook, too. We sure gave him an earful.”
    The boys were in bed by ten that night, but at three o’clock in the morning Joe suddenly sat up. He shook Frank and whispered, “Hey! I think I just heard a truck pull in behind the lab next door!”
    Frank got up at once and put his trousers on over his pajamas. In less than a minute both boys were dressed and out of the motel room. Silently they moved toward the back of the Voiceprint Laboratories.
    As they reached the corner of the building, they saw the outline of a truck. Even though it was a moonless night they could make out the figure of a man sneaking into the back entrance.
    â€œCome on,” Joe whispered. “Let’s get him.”
    â€œNot yet.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWe don’t know how many are inside. If there’s a half dozen of them, they’ll clobber us.”
    â€œThen I’ll go for the police.”
    Frank put a hand on his brother’s arm. “Look, they’re coming out.”
    One man emerged slowly, walking out backwards and straining under a heavy load. Then a second figure came into sight. Between them they hefted a large crate.
    â€œHurry,” one of them said hoarsely. “The wood’s cutting into my fingers!”
    â€œShut up,” came the reply. “What about me? My back’s breaking!”
    Frank whispered, “On your mark, Joel”

CHAPTER III
    The Legacy
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    THE men set the crate down, apparently to rest before lifting it onto the truck. As they stooped to pick it up again, Frank signaled Joe and the two moved forward.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” Frank called out.
    The men dropped the crate and whirled. One swung a fist at Frank. The other leaped toward Joe.
    Ducking, Frank drove a left, then a right into his attacker’s stomach. The man doubled over with a gasp and his hat fell to the ground.
    Meantime Joe and the other man were standing toe to toe, trading blows. In the darkness they could not see each other’s faces. The man grunted when Joe landed a hard blow on his chest. But then he caught Joe in the middle of the forehead and knocked him down.
    Frank was ready to finish off his man when he saw Joe fall. He turned to attack Joe’s opponent, whereupon his adversary hit him from behind