Free The Hidden Harbor Mystery by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

“Nobody knows this place except the family and the servants.”
    â€œJoe, you and I will follow that man!” Frank decided quickly. “Chet, stay out in the passage by this room. Just make sure the fellow doesn’t slip back and escape.”
    Cautiously Frank pulled back the door, and the three slipped into the dark passageway. Ahead, the footsteps sounded on the brick floor with a regular, hollow ring.
    â€œKnows his way,” Joe murmured as the brothers crept along in pursuit.
    Abruptly the sharp heel taps ceased. A moment later came a steady scraping sound.
    â€œHe’s climbing stairs,” whispered Frank.
    Hurrying forward, the young sleuths found that the passage branched into two corridors. One led to a narrow brick stairway.
    â€œMust go to the second story,” Frank deduced. “The other branch probably leads to the kitchen of the house.”
    Afraid to turn on their flashes lest they be detected, the boys mounted the steps. A narrow slit of light indicated a door slightly ajar above them. After listening carefully a moment, Frank pushed it lightly, and he and Joe stepped into an empty closet.
    At the front of the closet was another door, opened a crack. Warily, the brothers stepped into a lamplit room.
    As the young detectives looked curiously around them, a sudden sound on their right caused them to whirl sharply.
    The hall door to the room they had entered was just closing. The Hardys heard the metallic click of a key turning, and a lock bar sliding into place.
    Fearing trouble, Joe raced to the tunnel entrance. It was locked.

CHAPTER XI
    Acrobatic Detectives
    â€œLOCKED in!” exclaimed Joe, rattling the door handle. “What’s the idea?” He and Frank heard the booted footsteps retreating along the hall and down a stairway.
    The boys surveyed their little prison. A narrow bed and broad writing table were the extent of the furniture, except for well-stocked bookshelves that covered two walls from floor to ceiling.
    â€œThis must be Professor Rand’s study,” Frank whispered. He examined the volumes briefly. “They’re all on ancient Indian civilizations,” he noted. “And look! Here are some written by Professor Rand.”
    â€œVery interesting,” Joe said wryly. “Right now I’m more interested in getting out of here.”
    â€œLet’s try the window,” proposed Frank.
    He pulled open two narrow french doors. A gust of cold wind from the sea struck the boys as they stepped onto a railed balcony.
    â€œNo ground supports,” Joe noted, leaning out over the rail. “We’re too high to jump.”
    The brothers looked around from their perch, located on the front face of the mansion. The huge trees were out of reach, as was the roof above them.
    Suddenly, below them, the Hardys distinctly heard the sound of a door closing.
    â€œOver there!” Joe pointed toward a tall man’s figure. The man paused to jerk a flashlight from his pocket. In the same motion, something white fluttered to the ground. Then the man, carrying a spade, slipped around the corner of the house..
    â€œMust be Professor Rand!” Joe hissed excitedly. “I wish we could get hold of that paper he dropped.”
    Frank nodded. “Wonder if he locked us in.”
    Just then a swift gust of wind carried the white square upward. It wavered, and spiraled around directly toward the boys!
    The Hardys clutched and pawed the air. Maddeningly the paper swooped high, sideslipped, and landed on another little balcony two window widths from their own.
    â€œToo far to jump,” Frank judged. “See if we can bridge it. We must get that paper. I’ve a hunch it’s important!” he declared grimly.
    They stepped over the top rail together. As Frank wedged his toes under the bottom rail and grasped the lower sections of two of the sturdy spindles, Joe, facing outward, bent down and took hold of his brother’s