“I’m going out there to interview him,” said Fenton Hardy. “I’ll wait a few days until he is feeling better. Of course the matter is one for the United States authorities, and as I haven’t been assigned to the case I can’t do very much. But perhaps I’ll get some information I can use at some other time.” “Joe and I will go out to-morrow and see how he is getting along.” “Do so. But don’t ask any questions. Don’t let him think you are suspicious of him. Otherwise he’ll be liable to sneak away as soon as he can, and we’ll lose him altogether. He is under an obligation to you now because you saved his life, so it will seem quite natural for you to come back to see him. If you think he is recovering quickly, let me know and I’ll go out right away and talk to him. If you think he will be there for several days yet, we’ll just let him stay until he feels better.” “Perhaps he is a detective himself,” Frank suggested. “That had occurred to me,” admitted Mr. Hardy. “If that’s the case, I’ll keep out of the affair. It’s just probable that he is a Secret Service man who discovered Snackley’s hang-out and was shot for his pains. That would explain why he wouldn’t tell you anything about himself. But there’s always the possibility that he is one of Snackley’s enemies; and in that case I may be able to persuade him to talk.” Fenton Hardy asked the boys more questions about their adventure, but beyond a few trivial details they were unable to throw any further light on the mystery. However, it was decided that they should go back to the Kane farmhouse on the following day, which was Sunday, and report on the condition of the mysterious Mr. Jones. With that they left their father, spending the rest of the afternoon in eager discussion and speculation concerning the strange events of the day. It had been an eventful holiday for them, and although they went over the incidents time and again they were unable to arrive at any solution of the puzzling affair in Barmet Bay. As for the happenings at the house on the cliff, they were inclined to accept their father’s theory that some practical joker had been to blame. Next morning, after church, they took the motorcycles out of the garage and prepared to ride out to the Kane farmhouse, there to make inquiry as to the condition of the man they had rescued on the previous day. “Remember!” warned their father. “Don’t ask him too many questions or he’ll get suspicious. Just find out how long he is likely to remain at the farm. If his injuries aren’t very serious he’ll be leaving in a day or so and we want to check up on him.” The boys promised to follow the detective’s instructions. Unlike the day previous, this Sunday was clear and bright, and the rain of the afternoon before had laid the dust so that they enjoyed their journey out along the shore road. “It would be a bad joke on us if Mr. Jones left before we got there,” remarked Joe.