Brothers -- Juvenile fiction; Hardy Boys (Fictitious characters) -- Juvenile fiction; Mystery and detective stories
“I’m comin’ to that, see? Give me time. Give me time. As I was sayin’,
I’m pretty sure it was on a Monday, for it was wash day, and the wife
never washes except on Monday. I mean she never washes clothes except
on Monday. She herself, why, she washes _every_ day, of course.
Anyway, it was Monday.”
“That was the day dad disappeared,” prompted Frank.
“You don’t say! Well, I saw him that day.”
“Where?”
“I’m comin’ to that. As I was sayin’, it was Monday, and when I went
down to the garage the boss, he says to me, says he, ‘Sam, I want you
to run a truckload of furniture down the shore road.’ So I said, ‘Well,
boss, I guess that’s what I’m here for,’ so he told me that this here
load of furniture had to go to one of them farmhouses away down near
the Point. So we loaded the truck and I filled her up with gas and away
I went. It must have been about nine o’clock by then I guess.”
“And you went down the shore road?”
“Sure. And it was a nice mornin’ for drivin’ too. Anyway, I went out
past the Tower Mansion—you know, Hurd Applegate’s place, them people
you and your father got back the Tower treasure for—and I was drivin’
along without a care in the world and whistlin’ away, quite happy-like,
when I sees that I was comin’ near that haunted house up on the cliff.
You know the place—where old Polucca was murdered.”
“The Polucca place!”
“Yeah! Well, anyway, I was comin’ by there and I didn’t drive slow
either, for they say there’s ghosts in that place and I ain’t takin’ no
chance with nothin’ like that, so the truck was going along at quite a
clip, when what should I see but a man walkin’ along the road.”
“Dad!”
“Yeah, it was your father. Well, anyway, nobody ever said Sam Bates
wouldn’t give a guy a lift, so I slows down a bit and I says, ‘Hey!
D’you want a ride?’ just like that, see? Then this guy turned around
so I seen who it was. I didn’t know until then, see? So when I seen
who it was I said, ‘Good day, Mr. Hardy, would you like a lift?’ but
he thanked me and said he was just takin’ a little walk. So I drove on
past him and the last I seen of him he was walkin’ along beside the
road.”
“Did he go down the lane to the Polucca place?”
“I dunno whether he did or not. He hadn’t quite reached the lane when
I seen him last. But I didn’t meet him on my way back, so I don’t know
where he went. Matter of fact, I didn’t think nothin’ more of it until
this mornin’ when a bunch of the boys were sittin’ around the garage
talkin’ and one of them said that you two lads had been huntin’ all
over the city for your old man—I mean your father—and you couldn’t
find him. So I says to myself, ‘Sam, mebbe you can tell ’em somethin’
they don’t know.’ So I just thought I’d come up.”
“And we’re very grateful to you,” Frank assured him. “You’ve given us
some valuable information. We didn’t know whether our father had gone
out of the city or not. Now I think we’ll know where to look for him.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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