The Sinister Signpost by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

exercise self-control. “It’s useless trying to talk sense into Roger,” he said. “We’d better go.”
    As they walked away, Chet remarked, “That fellow is about as friendly as an enraged cobra.”
    Roger, who overheard the comment, gave Chet a black look. He picked up a large mass of hay with his pitchfork and flung it on top of the chubby youth.
    Chet scrambled from underneath the pile. He quickly brushed strands of hay from his eyes, ears, and hair. Then, angry, he grabbed a feed bag nearby and pulled it over Roger’s head, down to his elbows. The imprisoned boy stumbled around the stall in a frenzy.
    â€œI’ll get you for this!” Roger yelled after his tormentor when he finally pulled the bag free.
    The Hardys and their chum strolled back to the paddock. Mr. Alden had been too preoccupied with Topnotch to notice what had happened.
    â€œLet’s not say anything to him about Roger,” Frank suggested.
    The boys spent the balance of the afternoon watching Alden exercise his horse, or taking turns riding the mount themselves.
    â€œHe’s super,” Chet remarked. “Sure beats our farm horses.”
    At sundown the boys thanked the owner and left.
    Frank and Joe spent a relaxing Sunday at home and retired early. The family had been asleep only a short time when the telephone rang. Frank got up and rushed to answer it. His father had already picked up the extension by his bed.
    â€œThis is Alden,” an excited voice was saying. “Sorry to disturb you. But something terrible has happened and I need your help. I’m at the stable. Topnotch has been stolen!”

CHAPTER IX
    Demand for Ransom
    FRANK wakened his brother to tell him about Topnotch. The boys and their father dressed quickly, rushed to their car, and headed for the stable.
    â€œThis sounds to me like some of Roger’s work,” Joe suggested.
    â€œPossibly,” Frank agreed. “He’s pretty mad at his father. Roger could have done it for spite. But stealing a horse is not easy. He’d need help.”
    â€œMy advice is to wait until we get the facts before coming to any conclusions,” Mr. Hardy interjected. “I realize Roger would never win a popularity contest. Yet it’s hard to believe he’d be mean enough to do a thing like this.”
    They arrived at the stable to find Alden still greatly distraught over the theft of his horse.
    â€œThe police were here to investigate,” he told the Hardys. “They left a few minutes ago.”
    â€œWhat did they come up with?” Joe asked.
    â€œNothing,” Alden replied disappointedly. “The thieves were careful not to leave a shred of evidence behind. Even the foot- and hoofprints leading from Topnotch’s stall were swept away.”
    â€œBut they must have used some kind of a vehicle to carry the horse off,” Frank said. “Did the police find any tire tracks in the area?”
    Alden nodded and asked the Hardys to follow him. After walking a short distance, he directed the beam of his flashlight toward the ground and pointed to a set of deep, parallel ruts pressed into the soft earth.
    â€œThey must have been made by a truck or a horse van,” Joe said.
    Mr. Hardy stooped down and examined the ruts carefully. “Obviously the thieves covered the wheels with canvas or other heavy material,” he concluded. “There aren’t any tread marks. Too bad.”
    â€œWere there any witnesses to the crime?” Frank queried.
    â€œOnly one of the grooms,” Alden answered. “But he can’t help us. He lives in a room above the stable. When he heard a strange noise in one of the stalls, he came down to investigate and was struck from behind. The police took him to the hospital.”
    â€œHas the groom been able to tell when the theft took place?” Mr. Hardy questioned.
    â€œYes. He regained consciousness. The theft was about five hours ago. The