Free The Secret Warning by Franklin W. Dixon

but added, “There is a way, and we’re going to find out.”
    The young sleuths went back upstairs. In the kitchen they halted in astonishment. Tivoli was devouring a pan of stew. Aunt Gertrude occasionally would bathe the bruise on his head with a damp cloth. The dog stopped eating long enough to give the boys a brief look of content.
    â€œPoor thing,” Aunt Gertrude murmured. “Such a stouthearted protector deserves a good meal.”
    Tivoli happily continued gulping the stew.
    As the boys went back to the guest room to search for clues, Joe said with a chuckle, “Boy, what a change! Aunt Gertrude can’t do enough for him.”
    Frank smiled. “I guess she’s convinced his heart’s in the right place.”
    Neither the room nor the carved cane yielded any fingerprints, nor had the intruder left any trace of his identity. Presently the boys and Aunt Gertrude returned to their rooms. Frank and Joe noticed with amusement that their aunt had said nothing further about putting the Great Dane back in the cellar.
    Early the next morning while Miss Hardy was preparing breakfast the telephone rang. Fenton Hardy was calling from Philadelphia. “Sam and I didn’t get back to the hotel until one this morning,” he explained, “so I decided to wait till later to phone you fellows back. What’s up?”
    Joe hastily reported the midnight break-in and the delivery, earlier, of the mysterious crate.
    Mr. Hardy was perplexed. “I’ve no idea what’s in it,” he said. “You and Frank had better open it right away. Then call me back.”
    Eagerly the boys went down to the basement, where they got a claw hammer and pry bar to rip open the crate. To their amazement, one side of the box suddenly dropped like a trap door! Empty!
    The Hardys stared at each other, speechless; then at the crate. “Are you thinking what I am?” Joe asked.
    â€œThere must have been a man hiding in here!” Frank exclaimed, indicating the hinged side of the crate, which had an inner hook. “After he got out, he wedged the side in place.”
    â€œThen he was all set to rob the house!”
    â€œSure,” agreed Frank. “But when he heard you telling Aunt Gertrude the dog could stay down here, he decided to scram before Tivoli could detect him. So he ducked out the cellar window.”
    â€œYou’re right!” Joe said, snapping his fingers. “But first he disconnected the burglar alarm so he could get back in later.”
    With a puzzled look, Joe added, “This crate gag seems like an awfully elaborate dodge for a house-breaker.”
    â€œIt was an ingenious way to sneak past our alarm system,” Frank pointed out. “He learned about that when he tried to break in while we were away on Whalebone Island.”
    Frank promptly telephoned his father to report the boys’ discovery.
    â€œYou’re sure nothing was taken last night?” Mr. Hardy asked.
    â€œNot as far as we could find out, Dad,” Frank replied. “I think Tivoli jumped the fellow too fast. Then he heard us coming and had to scram.”
    â€œHmm. So we’re still in the dark about what he was after.”
    The detective was keenly interested when Frank went on to describe Mehmet Zufar’s visit. “I’d certainly like to know more about this alleged defamation of character he complains of,” Mr. Hardy mused. “It might open up some new angles on the Pharaoh’s head mystery.”
    â€œThen why not take the case for Zufar?” Frank proposed. “He’s eager to engage a top-flight detective.”
    â€œThat wouldn’t be ethical, son. I could hardly go to work for Zufar when he’s already under suspicion in the matter I’m investigating for Transmarine Underwriters. From what you say, he evidently doesn’t know about my assignment.”
    Joe, who was listening with one ear close to the phone, broke