The House on the Cliff Read Online Free PDF Page A

replied, “but he might be.”
    Frank snapped his fingers. “Yes, and he could be one of the smugglers.”
    â€œBut who threw that hand grenade at him?” Joe asked. “Not one of his own gang, surely. And those guys in the other speedboat—they couldn’t have been Coast Guard men, even in disguise. They wouldn’t use grenades.”
    â€œJoe’s right on the second point,” Mr. Hardy agreed. “But Jones may still be a smuggler.”
    â€œYou mean he might have done something to make his boss mad and the boss sent out a couple of men to get him?” Joe asked.
    The detective nodded. “If this theory is right, and we can persuade Jones to talk before he either rejoins the gang or starts trying to take revenge, then we might get him to turn state’s evidence.”
    The boys were excited. Both jumped from their chairs and Joe cried out eagerly, “Let’s go talk to him right away! By morning he’ll be gone!”

CHAPTER V
    Pretzel Pete
    â€œJUST a minute!” Mrs. Hardy said to her sons. “How about supper?”
    â€œWe can eat when we come back from our interview with Jones,” Joe answered. “Mother, he may decide to leave the farmhouse any time.”
    Despairingly Mrs. Hardy returned to her husband. “What do you think, Fenton?”
    The detective gave his wife an understanding smile, then turned to Frank and Joe. “Didn’t you say Jones was in pretty bad shape?”
    â€œYes, Dad,” Frank replied.
    â€œThen I doubt very much that he’ll try to leave the Kanes’ home before the time he set—tomorrow morning. I’m sure that it’ll be safe for us to eat Mother’s good supper and still see our man in time.”
    Joe subsided, and to make his mother feel better, said with a smile, “Guess I let this mystery go to my brain for a minute. As a matter of fact, I have an empty space inside of me big enough to eat two suppers!”
    Mrs. Hardy tweaked an ear of her energetic son, just as she had frequently done ever since he was a small boy. He smiled at her affectionately, then asked what he could do to help with supper.
    â€œWell, suppose you fill the water glasses and get milk for you and Frank,” Mrs. Hardy said, as she and Joe went downstairs together.
    At the table, as often happened at meals in the Hardy home, the conversation revolved around the mystery. Frank asked his father if he had made any progress on his part in the case concerning the smugglers.
    â€œVery little,” the detective replied. “Snattman is a slippery individual. He covers his tracks well. I did find this out, though. The law firm which is handling old Mr. Pollitt’s affairs has had no luck in locating the nephew to whom the property was left.”
    â€œMr. Kane said he’d heard Mr. Pollitt call his nephew a no-good,” Frank put in.
    â€œThat’s just the point,” Mr. Hardy said. “The lawyers learned from the police that he’s a hoodlum and is wanted for burglary.”
    Frank whistled. “That puts the nephew in a bad spot, doesn’t it? If he shows up to claim the property, he’ll be nabbed as a criminal.”
    â€œExactly,” Mr. Hardy answered.
    â€œWhat will become of the property?” Joe queried.
    His father said he thought the executors might let the house remain vacant or they might possibly rent it. “They could do this on a month-to-month basis. This would give added income to the estate.”
    â€œWhich wouldn’t do the nephew much good if he were in jail,” Mrs. Hardy put in.
    â€œThat would depend on how long his sentence was,” her husband said. “He may not be a dangerous criminal. He may just have fallen into bad company and unwittingly become an accessory in some holdup or burglary.”
    â€œIn that case,” Frank remarked, “he may realize that he wouldn’t have to stay in prison long. He may