Franklin Dixon - The House on the Cliff

Now the place looked as though an earthquake had shaken it.

Pots and pans were scattered about the floor. The table was overturned. A chair lay upside down in a

corner. Shattered bits of cups and saucers were strewn on the floor.

"What happened?" Frank exclaimed in bewilderment.

"There's been a fight-or a struggle of some kind," said Mr. Hardy. "Let's see what the rest of the house

looks like."

The boys opened the door to the adjoining living room. Frank snapped on the wall switch.

There a horrifying sight met the Hardys' eyes.

The farmer and his wife, bound and gagged, were tied to chairs in the middle of the room!

Swiftly Frank, Joe, and their father rushed over to Mr. and Mrs. Kane. They had been tied with strong

ropes and so well gagged that the couple had been unable to utter a sound. In a minute the Hardys had

loosened the bonds and removed the gags.

"Thank goodness!" Mrs. Kane exclaimed with a sigh of relief, stretching her arms.

Her husband, spluttering with rage, rose from his chair and hurled the ropes to one side. "Those

scoundrels!" he cried out.

Frank hastily introduced his father, then asked, "What happened?"

For several moments Mr. and Mrs. Kane were too upset to tell their story. But finally the farmer

staggered over to the window and pointed down the shore road.

"They went that way!" he roared. "Follow them!"

"Who?"

"Those thugs who tied us up! They took Jones!"

CHAPTER VI

The Strange Message

"How long ago did those kidnapers leave?" Frank asked the Kanes quickly.

"About ten minutes," replied the farmer. "Maybe you can catch them if you hurry!"

"Come on, Dad!" Frank cried. "Let's go after them!"

Mr. Hardy needed no further urging. He and his sons ran out of the house and jumped into the car.

"That's rough stuff," Joe said to his father as they turned onto the shore road, "barging into house, tying up

the owners, and kidnaping a guy!"

"Yes," Mr. Hardy agreed. "It looks as though 'your friend Jones is mixed up in some kind of racket.

Those men must have been pretty desperate to risk breaking into an occupied house."

The boys' father was able to follow the tracks of the car from the tread marks in the dusty road. But soon

there were signs that another car had turned onto the shore road from a side lane and the trail became

confused.

The Hardys passed the lane that led into the Pollitt place and continued on until they came to a hilltop.

Here they could get a clear view of the road winding along the coast for several miles. There was no sign

of a car.

"We've lost them, I guess," said Frank in disappointment, as Mr. Hardy brought the sedan to a stop.

"They had too much of a head start," Joe remarked. "If only we'd gotten to the farm sooner. Well, we

may as well go back."

Mr. Hardy agreed, turned the car around, and once more the Hardys headed for the farm. On the way

they discussed the mysterious kidnaping, and speculated on the identity of those responsible.

"I'll bet those men in the other motorboat saw us rescue Jones, or else they heard somehow that he'd

been taken to the farmhouse," Joe surmised.

"If they are the kidnapers, I wonder what will happen to Jones now," Frank said gravely. "They tried to

kill him once."

"Maybe they'll just hold him prisoner," Mr. Hardy stated thoughtfully. "They were probably afraid he'd

tell all he knew, and couldn't afford to leave him at the farmhouse."

When they got back to the Kanes', they found the farmer and his wife somewhat recovered from their

harrowing experience. Mrs. Kane was busy straightening up the kitchen.

"We couldn't catch them," Frank reported sadly.

"Well, those hoodlums had a high-powered car and they weren't wastin' any time. I could see 'em from

the window as they went down the lane," the farmer remarked, frowning angrily at the recollection.

"Please tell us exactly what happened, Mr. Kane," Joe urged.

"Well, Mabel and I were here in the kitchen," the man began. "Mabel was washin' the supper dishes

when this fellow came to the door. He was a tall chap with a long, thin face."

"He asked us if we were looking after the man that was almost drowned earlier," the farmer's wife took

up the tale. "When we said we were, the fellow told us that Mr. Jones was his brother and he had come

to take him away."

"I got suspicious," Mr. Kane broke in. "He didn't look nothin' like Jones. I asked him where he lived."

"At that," Mrs. Kane said, "he walked in the house with another fellow right at his heels.

They grabbed my husband. Henry put up an awful good fight but he was outnumbered. When I tried to

help, a third man appeared from nowhere and held me back."

"They dragged us into the livin' room, tied us to those chairs, and put the gags in our mouths," the farmer

continued. "Then we heard 'em goin' into Jones's room. Pretty soon they carried him out to a car where a

fourth fellow was sittin' at the wheel."

"Did Jones put up a fight when they took him away?" Frank asked.

"He tried to. He hollered for help, but of course I couldn't do anythin' and he was too weak to struggle

much."

"This whole affair is very peculiar," Mr. Hardy observed. "Perhaps Jones is mixed up in the smuggling

going on around here. But who were those four men, I wonder?"

Mrs. Kane shook her head. "All I know is, we're sure glad you and your sons came out tonight. There's

no telling how long we'd have been tied up before somebody found us!"

"We're glad, too, that we got here," Frank replied.

"You folks say your name's Hardy?" said the farmer. "Any relation to Fenton Hardy?"

"Right here." The detective smiled.

"Pleasure to know you!" exclaimed Kane heartily, putting out his hand. "If anyone can get to the bottom

of this business, you can."

"I'll certainly try," the boys' father promised.

The Hardys bade the farmer and his wife good-by. They promised to call again at the Kane farm as soon

as they had any further information, and Mr. Kane, in turn, said he would notify them if he found any

trace of Jones or his kidnapers.

When they returned home the boys followed their father into his study.

"What do you make of all this, Dad?" Joe asked.

Mr. Hardy sat down at his desk. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair a few moments without

speaking.

"I have only one theory," he said at last. "The kidnapers probably are Snattman's friends. That means you

boys may have uncovered the fact that there is a whole gang of smugglers around here."

The brothers were pleased with their progress. "What do we do next, Dad?" Joe asked eagerly.

"I want to evaluate this case from every angle," their father replied. "I'll think about it and talk to you

later." With this the boys had to be content for the rest of the week end.

When the brothers came downstairs Monday morning, Mrs. Hardy was putting their breakfast on the

table.

In answer to the boys' inquiries, she replied, "Your father went out early this morning in his car. He didn't

say when he would return. But your dad didn't take a bag with him, so he'll probably be back today."

Mrs. Hardy was accustomed to her husband's comings and goings at odd hours in connection with his

profession and she had learned not to ask questions.

Frank and Joe were disappointed. They had looked forward to resuming a discussion of the case with

their father.

"I guess we're left on our own again to try finding out something about those smugglers," Frank

remarked, and Joe agreed.

Later, when they reached Bayport High School, the brothers saw Iola Morton standing on the front