The House on the Cliff Read Online Free PDF

appear to claim the property, take his punishment, and then lead a normal, law-abiding life out at his uncle’s place.”
    â€œWell, I sincerely hope so,” Mr. Hardy replied. “The trouble is, so often when a young man joins a group of hoodlums or racketeers, he’s blackmailed for the rest of his life, even though he tries to go straight.” The detective smiled. “The best way to avoid such a situation is never to get into it!”
    At this moment the phone rang and Frank went to answer it. “It’s for you, Dad!” he called, coming back to the table.’
    Mr. Hardy spent nearly fifteen minutes in conversation with the caller. In the meantime, the boys and Mrs. Hardy finished their supper. Then, while Mr. Hardy ate his dessert, he told his family a little about the information he had just received on the phone.
    â€œMore drugs have disappeared,” he said tersely. “I’m positive now that Snattman is behind all this.”
    â€œWere the drugs stolen around here?” Frank asked.
    â€œWe don’t know,” his father answered. “A pharmaceutical house in the Midwest was expecting a shipment of rare drugs from India. When the package arrived, only half the order was there. It was evident that someone had cleverly opened the package, removed part of the shipment, and replaced the wrapping so neatly that neither the customs officials nor the post office was aware that the package had been tampered with.”
    â€œHow were the drugs sent to this country?” Joe queried.
    â€œThey came by ship.”
    â€œTo which port?”
    â€œNew York. But the ship did stop at Bayport.”
    â€œHow long ago was this?”
    â€œNearly two months ago. It seems that the pharmaceutical house wasn’t ready to use the drugs until now, so hadn’t opened the package.”
    â€œThen,” said Joe, “the drugs could have been removed right on the premises, and have had nothing to do with smugglers.”
    â€œYou’re right,” Mr. Hardy agreed. “Each time drugs are reported missing, there’s a new angle to the case. Although I’m convinced Snattman is back of it, how to prove this is really a stickler.”
    Mr. Hardy went on to say that the tip he had received about Snattman being in the Bayport area had been a very reliable one. He smiled. “I’ll tell you all a little secret. I have a very good friend down on the waterfront. He picks up many kinds of information for me. His name is Pretzel Pete.”
    â€œPretzel Pete!” Frank and Joe cried out. “What a name!”
    â€œThat’s his nickname along the waterfront,” Mr. Hardy told them. He laughed. “During the past few years I’ve munched on so many of the pretzels he sells, I think I’m his best customer.”
    By this time the boys’ father had finished his dessert, and he suggested they leave at once for the Kane farmhouse. He brought his black sedan from the garage and the boys hopped in. It did not take long to cover the six miles to the place where Jones was spending the night.
    â€œWhy, the house is dark,” Frank remarked, puzzled.
    â€œMaybe everyone’s asleep,” Joe suggested.
    â€œThis early?” Frank protested.
    Mr. Hardy continued on down the lane. There was no sign of anyone around the place. Frank remarked that perhaps the farmer and his wife had gone out for the evening. “But I’m surprised that they would leave Jones alone in his condition,” he added.
    â€œI’m quite sure they wouldn’t,” his father averred. “If they’re asleep, I’m afraid we’ll have to wake them.”
    He pulled up in front of the kitchen entrance. Frank was out of the car in an instant, the others followed. He rapped on the door. There was no answer.
    â€œLet’s try the front door,” Joe suggested. “Maybe that has a knocker on it.”
    The boys walked around