He pointed to a tumble-down shed near by. Frank realized that it might take some time to discover the trouble, so he trundled the motorcycle over to the refuge his brother had indicated. In the meantime, Chet Morton had looked back, to find that the others were not following him, and had decided to return. The roar of his machine could be heard through the rain as he rode back toward them. In the shelter of the shed, Frank first of all took off his coat and cap, which were dripping wet, and hung them up on a projecting board. Then, as Joe and Jerry stood by, glad of the chance to get in out of the rain, he rolled up his sleeves and prepared to find the source of the trouble. They could hear Chet calling for them, as he drove along the road in the rain. “Thinks we’re lost,” laughed Joe. He went over to the front of the shed and hailed their companion. “Come on up here!” he shouted. “Had a breakdown.” Grumbling audibly, Chet dismounted and came over toward the shed. In the meantime, Frank had opened the tool box of his motorcycle. The others were startled by a sudden exclamation. Frank was staring at the tool box, with a bewildered expression on his face. “My tools!” he exclaimed. “They’re gone!” The other boys crowded around. The tool box was empty. “Did you have them when you left Bayport?” asked Joe. “Of course I did. I never go anywhere without them. Who on earth could have taken them?” “You can have mine,” offered Joe, going over to his own motorcycle. He snapped open the tool box on his machine and then gave a shout of astonishment. “Mine are gone too!” CHAPTER IV THE CHASE IN THE BAY The boys stared at one another in bewilderment. “I know my tool box was full when I left home,” said Frank. “And so was mine,” came from Joe. “I was using the pliers just before we started out.” “Where could they have gone?” “They must have been stolen while the motorcycles were in the shed at the Polucca place,” Chet suggested. “It’s the only time they could have been taken,” declared Frank. “It was the only time they were left unguarded.” Joe was frankly puzzled. “But we didn’t see any one around the place,” said Jerry. “No—but there was some one there. We heard those shrieks and the laugh. Some one stole those tools while we were in the house.” “It’s some kind of a practical joke, that’s what I’m beginning to think,” declared Frank. “Let’s go back and get those tools.” “Not on your life,” objected Jerry decisively. “This is a little too much. First of all we hear those shrieks, and then the house almost comes down around our ears, and now we find that the tools have been stolen by somebody we didn’t see. We’re safer away from there.” Biff Hooper nodded agreement. “That’s what I think. There’s something queer about that house. We’ll get into trouble if we go butting in any more.” “But we want our tools!”