Free The Missing Chums by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

knapsack?”
    â€œSutton,” the officer answered.
    Frank nodded. “It looks like a plant, Chief.”
    â€œSure it is,” Joe declared. “Alf scared Sutton off when he attacked Frank. He probably planted the radio to get even.”
    â€œThat’s right! That’s just what I told them!” Alf boomed. “Thanks a lot for sticking by me, fellows. I’ll get Sutton!”
    â€œHold on there!” commanded Chief Collig. “You’ll be back here for assault if you try that. Since the Hardys back up your story, I’ll let you go. But if Sutton prosecutes, we’ll have to bring you in again.”
    â€œOkay.” Alf wrung the boys’ hands, thanked them, and left.
    Frank pointed to a radio on Collig’s desk and asked, “Is this the stolen property?”
    â€œThat’s it,” Lieutenant Daley spoke up.
    â€œTake a look,” the chief invited, and Frank picked up the compact, heavy little set.
    â€œJapanese make. Yokohama Super-X.”
    â€œLet’s see,” Joe requested. He gave a low whistle as his brother passed it to him. “What a little beauty! Brand new, too. Look at that nickel-and-ivory case!”
    â€œIt’s an expensive, rare set,” Lieutenant Daley commented. “Not many people can afford one.”
    â€œThat’s true,” Frank said. “Hank Sutton seems to be just a seedy-looking character who lives in Shantytown. But Joe and I have a hunch as to how he could afford a radio like this.”
    â€œYou mean he stole it?” Chief Collig asked.
    â€œWe think he belongs to a ring of thieves,” Frank told him. “If they fight among themselves, it would explain the trouble in Shantytown.”
    Lieutenant Daley looked doubtful. “If Sutton stole the radio, why would he plant it on Alf? That would only call the attention of the police to himself.”
    Frank grinned. “If you’d seen Sutton go after me, you’d know he acts first and thinks later.”
    â€œThen he’s probably regretting Lundborg’s arrest right now,” Lieutenant Daley returned.
    â€œThat’s not all he’ll regret,” Joe promised grimly, “if he’s had anything to do with Chet and Biff’s disappearance.”
    â€œThat reminds me,” the chief said. “The boys’ parents received postcards from Northport, too. We’re looking for the bald, loud-voiced man you told me about, but that isn’t much to go on.”
    â€œNo,” Frank admitted, “but we’re working on a new clue.” He told of the discovery of the Fizzle soda bottle and the purchase of a similar one by the bald-headed man in Northport. “That’s why we think he’s connected with stealing the Sleuth as well as Chet and Biff’s disappearance.”
    â€œThen,” Joe put in, “we learned that the dock manager up there owns the Black Cat and rented it the day of the bank robbery to the bald fellow and Ben Stark—the one we saw talking to Hank Sutton in Shantytown.”
    Chief Collig looked at the boys keenly. “I see what you’re driving at—that Sutton may be more than a petty thief—he and the other two might be involved in the robbery!”
    As Lieutenant Daley stared at the Hardys in amazement, Frank replied, “You’re right, Chief. But we have no solid evidence yet to back up our hunch. Joe and I will check stores in town tomorrow to see where the radio came from.”
    â€œGood. We’ll do some checking of our own too. Thanks, Frank and Joe, for coming down.”
    When the Hardys reached home, their house was dark. They let themselves in quietly, went to bed, and fell asleep at once.
    Some time later Joe was awakened by a noise. He sat up, listening. It came again-a soft knocking.
    â€œFrank!” he whispered, shaking his brother. “Someone’s at the front door.”
    Instantly Frank was awake. The boys