What Happened at Midnight by Franklin W. Dixon

bow. With Frank on the shore and Jerry helping from the boat, Joe was hauled aboard. Frank was about to jump onto the bow when he felt a heavy, sharp blow on his left leg. He lost his balance and fell partly into the water. When he tried to rise, his leg doubled beneath him. One of the rocks hurled by the men had found its mark!
    Shots sounded again. A splinter flew from the bow of the boat.
    â€œHurry, Frank!” Chet urged.
    â€œGive me a hand,” Frank said grimly.
    Biff scrambled over the side, seized Frank, and laid him on deck. Frank’s leg throbbed and he could scarcely keep from crying out.
    The man on the path was only a few yards away now! He showered the air with rocks!

CHAPTER VIII
    An Astounding Report
    SMACK! A large rock hit the water with a resounding crash only inches from the Sleuth. A deluge of spray drenched the boys.
    Chet, at the helm, could hardly see. Wiping the water from his eyes, he gunned the motor and took off. The Sleuth made sternway from shore.
    â€œGadzooks!” cried Jerry, mopping his face and looking toward the kidnappers. “They’ve gone!”
    â€œThey sure disappeared in a hurry,” said Jerry. “I wish we could have captured them. Frank, how’s your leg?”
    â€œOh, it’ll be all right, but it sure hurts.” He gave a wan smile. “Never mind that, though. The main thing is we found Joe.”
    â€œYes, thank goodness,” his brother said weakly.
    Chet had taken the Sleuth into deep water and was now speeding toward Bayport. Jerry and Biff were busy trying to make Frank and Joe comfortable on one of the long seats.
    â€œTo think I missed finding Joe!” Chet said in disgust. “I climbed those cliffs every other time and searched. When Joe was found, where was I? Sitting in the boat!”
    â€œGood thing you were,” Jerry retorted. “It’s lucky for us someone was here to have the Sleuth ready for a fast getaway.”
    â€œWhy did it have to be me?” Chet complained. “Some fellows have all the luck. Joe, tell me about your capture. Who were those men who shot at you and heaved all those rocks? When did they take you to the cave?”
    â€œBetter let Joe rest awhile,” Frank advised.
    â€œI think we ought to go back and clean up on that gang!” Jerry put in.
    â€œI’d like to learn more about them myself,” Frank said, “but I think we’d better leave it to the police. Those kidnappers are a tough outfit, and we have Joe to look after. He’s in bad shape. We should get him home.”
    â€œHe looks hungry,” Chet observed sympathetically, as Frank tuned in their radio and called police headquarters to report the rescue.
    Joe opened his eyes. “You bet I’m hungry.”
    Chet grabbed the package of sandwiches he had brought with him and handed them to his chum. “I knew these would come in handy,” he said. “Dig in.”
    â€œHold it!” Frank warned. “No solid food until the doctor says it’s all right.”
    â€œThen how about the milk in this Thermos?”
    â€œOkay.”
    Joe drank the milk slowly and gratefully while Jerry satisfied Chet’s curiosity about their experience in the cave rescue.
    Chet whistled. “That was a close squeak.”
    When the Hardys reached home, their mother was overwhelmed with relief at seeing Joe safe.
    Aunt Gertrude hugged her nephew and said, “Well, this time you deserve sympathy. At least you didn’t do something harum-scarum and propel yourself right into a mess of trouble.”
    Dr. Bates, the family physician, was summoned to examine the young detectives. “No internal damage,” he declared. “Just exhaustion. Joe’ll be fit in just a day or two. Frank has a deep bruise which will be sore for a while.”
    Joe was given a steaming bowl of hot soup, then put to bed. He immediately fell asleep.
    Frank related the story of the rescue and