What Happened at Midnight Read Online Free PDF

away,” came the answer. “Incidentally, FBI men have been here and out to the Morton farm. I’ll contact them. There’s no news so far.”
    Frank replaced the mike. He and Chet worked feverishly to install the new fuel pump and soon had the engine running.
    â€œNo chance of our catching up with the sedan now,” Chet remarked as the boys once again got under way. “It has nearly a half hour’s head start.”
    â€œI’ll bet that the kidnappers won’t stop at Gresham, now that they’ve learned we’re after them.”
    Ten minutes later Frank stopped the car. He backed into a side road, pulled out again, then turned to retrace his route. “I want to go up that lane the kidnap car came out of and see what we can find.”
    Reaching it, Frank turned in. The ground was stony and full of holes. Progress was slow.
    Half a mile farther on, an old inn, apparently closed, came into view. It was a long, low white building with a wide veranda. The boys got out of the car and Frank knocked several times, hoping someone might be inside. There was no response.
    â€œNobody’s home,” Chet mumbled.
    Just then the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard. The door sprang open and a surly-faced man confronted them.
    â€œWhat is it?” he growled.
    â€œSorry to bother you, sir,” Frank said, “but have you seen a black four-door sedan within the past hour?”
    â€œYou’ve got nerve waking me up to ask such a stupid question!” the man snapped. “I don’t know anything about a sedan!”
    â€œHave you had any visitors recently?” Frank persisted. “There’s a wrecked car lying in a ditch close to the spot where your lane leads in from the road. Did anyone come here for help?”
    The man looked at the boys suspiciously. “Get out of here before I kick you off the porch!”
    â€œHave it your way!” Frank retorted. “I’m certain there were kidnappers in that sedan I asked you about. If you know anything, you’d better tell me, or be held as an accessory!”
    â€œKidnappers?” the man cried out. “Okay! So there were some guys walked in here late last night.”
    â€œHow many were there?” Frank demanded.
    â€œThree. One said they’d had an accident, and asked if they could stay at my place for a while. They paid me real good, so I let ‘em come in.”
    â€œPlease describe these men.”
    â€œOne was tall, one short,” the proprietor replied nervously. “The big guy said they’re brothers named Wagner. They were carrying the third guy—he was wrapped in a blanket ‘cause he got knocked out. I couldn’t see his face. The big guy made a telephone call to Gresham. A car picked ’em up about an hour and a half ago. I can’t tell you any more!”
    He stepped back inside the house and slammed the door in the boys’ faces.
    â€œSociable guy,” Chet commented as the boys drove off.
    â€œHe did give us one lead,” Frank said. “The wreck was theirs and the pickup car came from the direction of Gresham. Chet, I’m afraid Joe was hurt. We’re going to Gresham. I’ll call Collig and tell him what we just heard.” He tuned in Bayport headquarters and left the message.
    On reaching Gresham, Frank cruised up and down the side streets flanking the main boulevard, hoping to spot the sedan but had no luck. He then headed for the local police headquarters. “Dad introduced me to Police Chief Stanton when we were passing through this town several months ago,” he said.
    The boys entered the neat, red-brick building and Frank introduced himself and Chet to the desk sergeant on duty. They were ushered into the office of the chief.
    â€œFrank Hardy, how are you?” Stanton said, extending his hand in greeting. “Sit down.”
    â€œHas Chief Collig in Bayport been in touch with you?” Frank