in trust as sort of a museum." Joe rolled his eyes. "Sounds real exciting."
"It's history," Frank said. "I just hope I don't mean that literally."
Lightning suddenly lit up the whole road, turning the cliffsides a brief, intense electric blue. Thunder slammed and rumbled, the few stunted trees shook.
"You know," Frank went on, "there was something familiar about that voice. I have this feeling I heard it recently."
"It was a girl, you thought, trying to disguise her voice."
Frank nodded. "I'm pretty sure it was."
"The voice may have belonged to someone I met last night even," Frank said, thinking about it. "All I know is that I can't seem to identify it. I hope it'll come to me."
"The man with the computer brain," Joe murmured mockingly.
They drove higher, onto the top of the cliffs. The rain kept hitting hard at the van, and the wind gave it a powerful shove every now and then.
"Whoever she was," said Frank, "she warned that the prank was going to be rough tonight."
"They've gone beyond pranks and into vandalism."
Frank shook his head. "I've got a very bad feeling about this whole business."
After a moment Joe said, "You know, being summoned to this old mansion by a mystery woman might be a prank itself. I mean, what if these jokers want to lure us out here to put something over on us—or worse?"
"That's a possibility." Frank nodded grimly. "But we have to check it out. We'll just have to be very careful."
"There's the mansion, coming up on that knoll to our right."
"We'll drive on by, then park in that patch of trees up ahead."
"Good idea. I - Frank, look!"
"What?"
"Didn't you see it? The beam of a flashlight inside the place as we drove by."
Carefully Frank and Joe worked their way down along the slippery cliff walk that led to the rear of the three-story wooden mansion.
Frank held an unlit flashlight in his right hand, swinging it at his side. He suddenly stopped, wrestling with a thornbush beside the path to get his jacket sleeve loose.
Coming up from behind, Joe touched his brother's shoulder. "There's definitely somebody in there," he whispered.
"Right — I saw the flashlight shining around in there, too. It seems to be near the front rooms of the place."
"This doesn't look like a trap then, does it? I mean, they wouldn't be this obvious if they were all in there waiting to jump us with base-ball bats."
"We'll be careful, anyway."
There was a narrow white gravel parking lot at the rear of the Hickerson Mansion. The Hardys stopped beside the safety fence and watched the big white house.
The wind spun the rusted weathervane up on its cupola perch. The faded brown shutters creaked, the back door was open and flapping.
"Now we know how they got in," said Frank. "Shall we follow?" After tapping Joe on the arm, he wiped the rain from his face and started running for the wooden steps to the historic mansion.
Joe trailed just behind him.
They went up the stairs single file, Frank first. He pointed up at the cut wires above the i doorway. "That's where they took care of the alarm."
Frank stepped across the threshold, then stopped dead.
Lightning flashed, and for a few seconds he could see a length of carpeted corridor in the crackling light. The hallway was empty, but there were two sets of muddy footprints on the faded carpeting and running through the doorway at the far end.
Clicking on his flash, Frank said, "Come on, they must be somewhere up at the front of the house."
On both sides of the hallway stood a row of shoulder-high pedestals. Each of them held a marble bust of one of the Hickerson clan.
Making his way along the shadowy corridor in the wake of his brother, Joe chanced to bump against one of the wooden pedestals. The heavy bust of a gentleman with substantial whiskers began to teeter.
"Oops," said Joe quietly, making a grab for the swaying pedestal.
He caught it, but the marble bust went sliding off the top. It did a wobbly somersault, then fell to the floor to crash into three
"It's history," Frank said. "I just hope I don't mean that literally."
Lightning suddenly lit up the whole road, turning the cliffsides a brief, intense electric blue. Thunder slammed and rumbled, the few stunted trees shook.
"You know," Frank went on, "there was something familiar about that voice. I have this feeling I heard it recently."
"It was a girl, you thought, trying to disguise her voice."
Frank nodded. "I'm pretty sure it was."
"The voice may have belonged to someone I met last night even," Frank said, thinking about it. "All I know is that I can't seem to identify it. I hope it'll come to me."
"The man with the computer brain," Joe murmured mockingly.
They drove higher, onto the top of the cliffs. The rain kept hitting hard at the van, and the wind gave it a powerful shove every now and then.
"Whoever she was," said Frank, "she warned that the prank was going to be rough tonight."
"They've gone beyond pranks and into vandalism."
Frank shook his head. "I've got a very bad feeling about this whole business."
After a moment Joe said, "You know, being summoned to this old mansion by a mystery woman might be a prank itself. I mean, what if these jokers want to lure us out here to put something over on us—or worse?"
"That's a possibility." Frank nodded grimly. "But we have to check it out. We'll just have to be very careful."
"There's the mansion, coming up on that knoll to our right."
"We'll drive on by, then park in that patch of trees up ahead."
"Good idea. I - Frank, look!"
"What?"
"Didn't you see it? The beam of a flashlight inside the place as we drove by."
Carefully Frank and Joe worked their way down along the slippery cliff walk that led to the rear of the three-story wooden mansion.
Frank held an unlit flashlight in his right hand, swinging it at his side. He suddenly stopped, wrestling with a thornbush beside the path to get his jacket sleeve loose.
Coming up from behind, Joe touched his brother's shoulder. "There's definitely somebody in there," he whispered.
"Right — I saw the flashlight shining around in there, too. It seems to be near the front rooms of the place."
"This doesn't look like a trap then, does it? I mean, they wouldn't be this obvious if they were all in there waiting to jump us with base-ball bats."
"We'll be careful, anyway."
There was a narrow white gravel parking lot at the rear of the Hickerson Mansion. The Hardys stopped beside the safety fence and watched the big white house.
The wind spun the rusted weathervane up on its cupola perch. The faded brown shutters creaked, the back door was open and flapping.
"Now we know how they got in," said Frank. "Shall we follow?" After tapping Joe on the arm, he wiped the rain from his face and started running for the wooden steps to the historic mansion.
Joe trailed just behind him.
They went up the stairs single file, Frank first. He pointed up at the cut wires above the i doorway. "That's where they took care of the alarm."
Frank stepped across the threshold, then stopped dead.
Lightning flashed, and for a few seconds he could see a length of carpeted corridor in the crackling light. The hallway was empty, but there were two sets of muddy footprints on the faded carpeting and running through the doorway at the far end.
Clicking on his flash, Frank said, "Come on, they must be somewhere up at the front of the house."
On both sides of the hallway stood a row of shoulder-high pedestals. Each of them held a marble bust of one of the Hickerson clan.
Making his way along the shadowy corridor in the wake of his brother, Joe chanced to bump against one of the wooden pedestals. The heavy bust of a gentleman with substantial whiskers began to teeter.
"Oops," said Joe quietly, making a grab for the swaying pedestal.
He caught it, but the marble bust went sliding off the top. It did a wobbly somersault, then fell to the floor to crash into three
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