Free Night of the Werewolf by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

recognized Hank Eagle’s voice.
    â€œHi, Hank,” he said cordially. “Where are you calling from?”
    â€œNew York City. I flew back at lunchtime in Mr. Tabor’s helicopter. He told me where you’re staying.”
    The Mohawk explained that, during the afternoon, he had rejoined his regular high-steel construction crew working on the Manhattan skyscraper which Chelsea Builders were erecting.
    â€œAnd I spotted something I think you ought to see,” Hank went on. “It may be important to that case your father’s investigating. Could you come to New York right away?”
    â€œYou mean tonight?”
    â€œYes. Something may happen here that you’ll want to keep an eye on.”
    Joe checked with Frank, and they decided to follow Hank’s suggestion. He gave them precise instructions on where to meet him. Then the boys called Bayport to inform their father, only to learn that he was gone for the evening. However, their mother told them that they had received an anonymous phone message about three o‘clock.”
    â€œIt was a man,” she reported. “He said he was the person with dark glasses whom you saw at Eagle’s Nest this morning.”
    â€œWhat did he want?” Frank asked excitedly.
    â€œHe wants to meet you. Call 555-3621 and ask for Mr. Nest. The area code is 212.”
    â€œThanks for the info, Mom,” Frank said and hung up.
    â€œIt’s a New York number,” Joe pointed out. “That fits in nicely with our trip tonight.”
    â€œRight,” Frank agreed, and dialed the number. An answering service responded, but the operator was unable to arrange a meeting. “Mr. Nest,” she said, “calls in every so often to see if there’s any word from the Hardy boys. In fact, I heard from him just about twenty minutes ago, so I don’t know how soon he’ll call again.”
    â€œOkay,” Frank said. “If he checks in, tell him we’ll be in New York tonight. I’ll contact you again around ten o‘clock.”
    After a hasty meal, the Hardys started the long drive to New York, leaving a somewhat nervous Chet to keep watch on the Tabors’ house after dark. Dusk had fallen as they sped southward on the New York State Thruway, and it was well past nine when they arrived in Manhattan. They parked in a midtown lot, as Hank Eagle had suggested, and walked a block or so to the meeting place.
    The Mohawk was waiting for them in a doorway across the street from the skyscraper which was under construction by Chelsea Builders. He quickly told the boys the reason for his call.
    â€œJust before I quit working,” Hank said, “I noticed a lunch box stashed against a girder.”
    â€œYou mean somewhere high up on the building skeleton?” Joe asked.
    â€œRight. The twenty-first floor to be exact. Often, when the men are working, they don’t bother coming down to the street for lunch. Anyhow, I figured one of the construction crew must’ve forgotten it when he left. So I opened it thinking there might be something in it to clue me in to whom it belonged.” Hank shook his head as if still slightly incredulous. “Boy, you’ll never guess what I found inside!”
    â€œSomething suspicious?” Frank suggested.
    â€œYou better believe it! There was a drawing like a building floor plan, with an X mark and some numbers. At first I thought it might have something to do with the skyscraper we’re working on, but then, as I looked at it closely, I realized that it was a layout of our company offices on Seventh Avenue!”
    â€œWhat about the X mark?” Joe questioned.
    â€œThat’s what made me call you. It indicated the location of the company safe! Those numbers were probably the combination. What’s more, there was also a key in the lunch box, perhaps to the outside door of the office suite!”
    Joe whistled. “Wow! That sounds like a