Free The Short-Wave Mystery by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

agreed.
    Frank had noticed a stuffed fox, mounted on a shelf, attached to one wall of the conference room. He gave Joe a nudge and pointed it out. While Mr. Warner called his secretary and asked her to send for the personnel manager, the two boys got up from the table to examine the animal.
    The fox was crouched in a dramatic, lifelike pose, fangs bared as if about to spring on its prey. Frank’s eyes suddenly widened. “Joe,” he whispered, “look at this double stitching!”
    â€œOh, oh!” Joe’s face reflected his brother’s excitement. “Just the way Mr. Roundtree described Batter’s work!”
    Was the fox another of Elias Batter’s mysterious stuffed specimens?

CHAPTER X
    Mysterious Cries
    â€œMR. Warner, where did this stuffed fox come from?” Frank asked.
    The company president looked up absently. From a friend of mine in New York who’s in the decorating business. Quite a striking specimen, isn’t it?”
    â€œYes, it is,” Frank said. “We thought it might be the work of a taxidermist we know of—a man named Elias Batter.”
    The Hardy boys waited expectantly to see if Batter’s name would evoke any response. Warner merely shook his head. “I never heard of him.”
    An hour later, after reviewing the files on various key people at the plant with Jason Warner and his personnel manager, the detective stood up to leave. “This may have been a false alarm,” he told them, “but it won’t hurt to make sure.”
    Mr. Hardy, who had come to Lektrex in a taxi, walked out with Frank and Joe to their convertible on the plant parking lot. On the way home Joe said, “It’ll take a while to run checks on all those people, won’t it?”
    His father nodded. “I’ll put Sam Radley and some of my other operatives on it right away. We’ll cross-check all names with the FBI, too.” He turned to Frank at the wheel. “I’m wondering why you asked Mr. Warner about the fox.”
    â€œIt just seemed like an odd coincidence if it was Batter’s work. But I guess we were wrong.”
    â€œThat reminds me, Dad,” Joe put in, “do you recall a robbery a few years ago at the Crescent Jewelry Store?” He related what Jimmy Gordon had said about the suspicion against his uncle.
    â€œHmm. It comes back to me vaguely,” Mr. Hardy replied. “A valuable diamond necklace was taken—a necklace with perfectly matched pear-shaped stones. The case was never solved.”
    Joe gave a low, excited whistle and Fenton Hardy narrowed his eyes shrewdly. “You think the necklace may have something to do with those animals that were stolen from the auction?”
    â€œIt’s a possibility, Dad,” Frank spoke up. “If the crooks thought Batter still had the stones, they might figure one of his stuffed animals would be a likely hiding place.”
    Joe added, “They might even know he had the stones—especially if they were on the robbery with him. What’s more, Batter told Jimmy that he had something secret hidden away, something that was ‘worth plenty,’ and he wanted Jimmy to have it if anything happened to him.”
    â€œHidden in the house?” Mr. Hardy asked.
    â€œI guess so, but Jimmy doesn’t know. His uncle apparently intended to tell him, but they never saw each other again before Batter died.”
    Reaching Elm Street, Frank garaged the car and they went into the house. Aunt Gertrude was testing a roast chicken in the oven.
    â€œHumph! About time you three were getting home!” she said severely. “I was beginning to think this bird might go to waste.”
    â€œNo danger.” Fenton Hardy grinned. “If the boys aren’t hungry, I’ll eat it all myself.”
    â€œWho said we aren’t hungry?” Joe retorted, sniffing the delicious aroma. “Mmm! Aunt Gertrude, you sure know how to cook