What Happened at Midnight by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

radio.”
    Joe paused and Mrs. Hardy asked if he were too tired to go on. “No, I’m okay, Mother. I also learned that one of the top men is named Chris. From what was said, I’d guess he’s that big fair-haired man who’s been watching us.”
    Frank was excited by this news. Now they had something definite to go on! If Joe were right, they could concentrate on finding Chris and turning him over to the police.
    Joe spoke up. “There are four or five in the gang working with Chris, and others offshore. Chris delivers smuggled diamonds. His pals in the cave—one tall and dark, one red-haired, and one short—mentioned that he had diamonds in his brief case. Chris thought we had seen them when the case burst open. Gross saw a chance to kidnap one of us to keep us from talking.”
    â€œA stupid move,” Frank commented. “Even if we had seen the diamonds, we wouldn’t have known they’d been smuggled. What about Mr. Wright’s secret radio? Did they talk about that?”
    â€œI’m not sure,” Joe answered. “Gross mentioned a secret gadget, but since they smuggle electronic equipment, it could be anything. Do we still have the transistor?” he asked.
    â€œYes. But it’s my guess someone connected with the smugglers figured out we have the radio and thought it might be in our trunk. Do you know the names of any of the others in the gang?”
    Joe shook his head. “I’m sure there’s a big boss, but they never mentioned him. One man who came to the cave had a nasal voice. He sounded like one of those burglars at Mr. Wright’s house.”
    â€œAnd he’s afraid of someone named Shorty,” Frank added. “This is a real clue.” After a moment he said thoughtfully, “So we’re up against a gang of smugglers.”
    â€œI think,” Aunt Gertrude said firmly, “that you boys should leave well enough alone. Joe is back safe and sound, and we ought to be satisfied. If you try tracking down those smugglers, you’ll only end up in trouble. Leave it to the police.”
    The conversation was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. Frank answered the call.
    â€œAre you one of the Hardy boys?” a strange voice asked.
    â€œYes. Who is this?”
    â€œThe inventor of the secret radio.”
    â€œWhat’s your name?” Frank asked.
    â€œYou know I don’t want to mention it on the phone. All I want to find out is whether you still have it,” the man replied.
    Frank was suspicious at once. He beckoned his mother and wrote on the telephone pad, Go next door and try to have this call traced. Then call the police and give them Joe’s clues to the kidnappers.
    Aloud Frank was saying, “Why are you so interested, sir?”
    â€œ ‘Cause I’m the inventor and I want the radio back.” The stranger spoke sharply.
    A long parley followed. Finally, when Frank was sure his mother had had time to call the police, he said, “Sorry not to help you, sir, but you’ll have to get your information from my father. He isn’t here right this minute.”
    â€œYour father!” the man shrieked. “Why, you impudent young pup! I’ll be right over and you’ll give me that radio or I‘ll—I’ll—”
    The caller hung up.

CHAPTER IX
    Smuggler’s Trail
    THE evening passed with no further word from the mysterious caller who had phoned from a public booth but had disappeared before the police could track him down. Frank and Joe discussed the situation.
    â€œMaybe he was scared off,” Joe suggested. “And what about the secret radio? Someone may look in that trunk again.”
    â€œRight,” Frank agreed. “I’ll bring it in here. But each time we leave the house let’s take the invention along.”
    Before the family went to bed, Mrs. Hardy turned on the burglar alarm, which was connected to every door and