Free The Bombay Boomerang by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

possible.”
    â€œSure thing, Mr. Hardy.” Jack strode into the administration building. Only ten minutes after his return the captain arrived.
    Fenton Hardy briefed his colleague on the current status of the mercury case. The captain whistled.
    â€œWe had no idea the affair was that big! Murder, eh? We’ll have to look into that!”
    â€œI’d like to see two steps taken right away,” Mr. Hardy replied in grave tones. “To begin with, the hotel should be placed under surveillance at once. At least three or four plainclothesmen, considering the size of this gang. We don’t know who the leader is yet, but one of his henchmen might lead us to him.”
    â€œRight.” Captain Stein scribbled a few lines in his notebook. “And then?”
    â€œIf you could spread the word to the news media that Penton Hardy of Bayport has disappeared under mysterions circumstances it would help. Add that no clues have turned up, and that the case appears to be running into a dead end.”
    â€œI get you,” the captain declared, snapping his notebook shut. “When those guys read the story in the Baltimore papers, they’ll be more sure than ever that they’re safe. You’ll have a better chance to find out what they’re up to, since they won’t be looking for you!”
    â€œThat’s the idea, Captain. I’m glad you approve of it. Makes me feel more secure.”
    â€œSure thing, Mr. Hardy. We like to have you on our side, too.”
    â€œWell,” Mr. Hardy said, “I’m flying back to Bayport with Frank and Joe. We have some clues to follow up.”
    It was the middle of the night when Jack Wayne set the plane down at the Bayport airport.
    â€œBefore we go home, I want to make a call,” Mr. Hardy said. “It’s not the best hour to phone Admiral Rodgers, but I have to talk to him.”
    The admiral brushed aside an apology for waking him up. “My sleep is of no consequence when national security is concerned,” he said. “What have you to report?”
    Fenton Hardy said as much as he could over the phone and proposed a secret meeting in Pittsburgh the following evening. Admiral Rodgers agreed.
    Then the Hardys returned home to an affectionate welcome from Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude.
    The next morning Frank and Joe held a get-together with their friends. Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred at the Hardy house during their absence, the boys reported.
    â€œIf anything had happened,” Joe said, laughing, “I’m sure Aunt Gertrude would have informed us the moment we stepped in the door.”
    â€œWe’ve come up with another problem,” Frank said. “What do you know about that disk jockey Teddy Blaze?”
    â€œHe’s considered a groovy character,” Biff related. “Puts on platters with a real beat. The kids at school are wild about his program.”
    â€œOne thing bugs me about him,” Chet offered. “He’s forever chattering about his dog. Tells us his canine companion is named Balto, and then talks to him over the air. Weird kind of nonsense you can’t make out.”
    â€œChet, you may just have given us a vital clue,” Frank said. “Balto—it’s worth checking out. Come on, Joe! Let’s see what we can find out at the newspaper office!”
    They located the radio and TV critic in his cubicle writing a review of a Bayport jazz concert.
    â€œWhat do I know about Teddy Blaze?” he replied to their question. “Not much. He’s new around here. Comes from somewhere in the South. Maryland, I think. Anyway, the kids go for him in a big way. If you’re after personal information, you’d better go see Teddy himself. He’ll be at the studio now.”
    Frank and Joe thanked him and had no difficulty getting into the studio when they announced they were fans of Teddy Blaze. The disk jockey had left orders that his fans