The Short-Wave Mystery by Franklin W. Dixon

Radio and TV Store, next to Roundtree’s. The two youths dashed inside. There were no customers in sight, nor anyone at the counter.
    From somewhere in back, they heard a door burst open and a loud, frightened sob. Guided by the sound, Joe and Chet darted into a narrow passageway leading to the rear of the shop.
    A woman stumbled into view, pale with fright. “Th-there’s a wild animal out there!” She pointed to the back door. “Something ferocious! I was taking a shortcut through the alley when I saw it! It scared the wits out of me!”
    By this time a policeman and several other people were crowding into the store. Joe and Chet ran out the back door into the alley.
    â€œShe’s nutty!” Chet declared, looking all around. “There’s no animal out here!”
    Then Joe caught a glimpse of baleful eyes and gleaming fangs. “Oh, yes, there is!”
    With a chuckle, he pointed down the steps of a depressed cellar entrance to their right. Propped near the cellar door in the shadowy gloom was the mounted wolf’s head, looking as if the whole animal were about to come bounding out of the darkness!
    â€œGood grief!” said Chet. “So that’s what scared her. I guess this explains how that crook got away, too.”
    â€œSure. He was afraid I might remember his face, so he ran through Zetter’s right after he left Roundtree’s—and dumped the wolf here so no one would spot him making his getaway.”
    As Joe retrieved the wolf’s head, Mr. Zetter, a tall, dark-featured man, came up the alley. He frowned at the noisy hubbub outside his shop.
    â€œWhat’s going on here?” he snapped. As the boys explained, Zetter snorted irritably. “A fine how-d’you-do! I leave the store for a few minutes to get a sandwich and find the place in an uproar when I get back!”
    He strode inside, the boys following. The woman gave another gasp of alarm when she saw the wolf’s head in Joe’s arms. She soon calmed down, however, and smiled shamefacedly upon realizing her mistake. After Joe had reported the auction thief’s getaway to the policeman, the two boys returned the head to Roundtree’s and Chet purchased glass eyes for his deer.
    By the time they arrived at the Hardy house on Elm Street, Fenton Hardy was home. He listened with a wry grin of amusement to Joe’s story. “Good work, son, recognizing that bald auction thief. But what about the wolf’s head?”
    â€œWe took it back to the taxidermy shop.” Joe paused as he saw his father frown slightly. “Was that a wrong move?”
    â€œWell, it might have been wiser to leave it where you found it. If the thief stashed the head there, he may have been planning to come back for it later. In your place, I would have staked out the alley and kept watch.”
    â€œI should’ve thought of that!” Joe chided him self.
    â€œMaybe it’s not too late,” Frank spoke up. “Come on, Joe. Let’s give it a try!”
    Leaving Chet at work with the youngsters, the Hardys drove downtown. At the taxidermy shop they received bad news.
    â€œSorry, boys,” Mr. Roundtree reported. “That fellow came back and snatched the wolf’s head right off the counter. He was out of the store before I had time to blink.”
    Joe groaned. “Did he go off in a car?”
    â€œ ‘Fraid I didn’t notice. To tell the truth, I hardly had time to collect my wits.”
    â€œSay,” Frank asked on a sudden hunch, “do you happen to know who mounted that wolf’s head?”
    â€œWhy, yes. It was an old customer of mine—Elias Batter.”

CHAPTER VIII
    A Secret Treasure
    ELIAS Batter—the late owner of the stuffed animals stolen at the auction! And now another of his mounted specimens had been purchased by one of the thieves! Mr. Roundtree peered shrewdly at the Hardys as he saw their startled looks.
    â€œDid you