Free The House on the Cliff by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

known we’re hunting for Dad, he might have acted very differently.”
    In the late afternoon Tony took the Napoli back to the suspected shore spot. Keeping well out from the breaking waves, he cruised along the cliff. The boys kept a sharp eye on the location of the tunnel. As the boat passed it they were just able to distinguish the narrow opening in the rocks.
    â€œI won’t be able to go in there after a while,” Tony remarked. “The tide’s coming in. At high tide I’ll bet that tunnel is filled with water.”
    Suddenly Tony swung his craft so hard to the right that the other boys lost their balance.
    â€œSorry, fellows,” he said. “Saw a log—oh!”
    He shut off his engine in a flash and leaned over the gunwale. His companions picked themselves up and asked what had happened.
    â€œPropeller started to foul up with some wire on that log.” Tony began to peel off his clothes. “Get me some pliers, will you?”
    Frank opened a locker and found a pair. Taking them, Tony dived overboard. A minute later he reappeared and climbed in. “I’m lucky,” he said. “Just plain lucky. Two seconds more and all that wire would have been wound around the prop and the log would have knocked it off.”
    â€œGood night!” Chet exclaimed. “It would have been a long swim home.”
    Joe slapped Tony on the back. “Good work, boy. I’d hate to see the Napoli out of commission.”
    Chet and Frank hauled the log aboard, so it would not damage any other craft. “This is a fence post with barbed wire!” Chet said. “Wowee! It’s good you spotted that log, Tony.”
    Tony dressed, then started the engine. He cruised around for more than an hour, but the boys saw no sign of life about the base of the cliff. They could see the Pollitt house, but to their amazement no lights appeared in it as twilight came.
    â€œHow much longer do you think we should stay out here?” Chet asked. “I’m getting hungry.”
    â€œI have a few pretzels and a candy bar, but that’s not much for four of us,” Joe remarked.
    â€œAha!” crowed Tony. “I have a surprise for you! I stowed away a little food before we took off.” With that he pulled a paper bag from the locker and passed each boy a large sandwich, a piece of chocolate cake, and a bottle of lemon soda.
    â€œYou deserve a medal,” Chet remarked as he bit into a layer of ham and cheese.
    â€œYou sure do!” Frank agreed. “I think we should stay right here for a while and watch. It’s my guess the smugglers will be on the job tonight. Don’t forget that the Marco Polo is docking tomorrow morning.”
    â€œI get it,” said Chet. “If she lays offshore or steams in slowly, it’ll give Ali Singh a chance to drop the stolen drugs overboard to Snattman.”
    â€œCorrect,” said Frank.
    Tony looked intently at the Hardys. “Is it your idea to keep Snattman from meeting Ali Singh? But what about your father? I thought we came out here to get a line on how to rescue him.”
    The brothers exchanged glances, then Joe said, “Of course that’s our main purpose, but we hope that we can do both.”
    Twilight deepened into darkness and lights could be seen here and there through the haze. The cliff was only a black smudge and the house above was still unlighted.
    Suddenly the boys heard a muffled sound. Tony slowed the Napoli and they listened intently.
    â€œAnother motorboat,” Tony whispered.
    The sound seemed to come from near the cliff. Straining their eyes in that direction, the four were at last able to distinguish a faint moving light.
    â€œCan you head over that way, Tony?” Frank asked in a low voice. “And could you take a chance on turning off our lights?”
    â€œSure. Here goes. The wind’s blowing from the land, so our engine won’t be heard from the