Mrs. Hardy gave her consent to this plan and the boys thereupon set out to find their chums and tell them of the proposed trip. Although two or three of the boys backed out when they learned that the destination was to be the haunted house, the majority were willing enough, and by nightfall all was in readiness for the journey on the morrow. CHAPTER XI THE CAP ON THE PEG Next morning the searching party set out. Jerry Gilroy had not got over the scare he had received on the remarkable Saturday of the boys’ first visit to the house on the cliff and he did not show up. But Chet Morton and Biff Hooper appeared, with Phil Cohen and Tony Prito, two more of the Hardy boys’ chums at the Bayport high school. Chet had his motorcycle and the party left the Hardy home shortly after breakfast, each machine carrying two. Before they left, Frank explained the situation fully to the others. “We know that dad was last seen near the Polucca place and we have every reason to believe that he left here with the intention of searching the house. He hasn’t shown up since and no person has seen him, so there may have been foul play.” “If there is any trace of him around the Polucca place we’ll find it,” declared Chet. “It will take a mighty lively ghost to scare us away this time.” The three motorcycles went out of Bayport past the Tower Mansion, sped along the shore road. There was little talk among the boys. Each realized that this was not a pleasure outing but a serious mission and each recognized the importance of it. The Hardy boys had every confidence in their companions. Chet and Biff, they knew, would not be as easily frightened on this occasion, and as for Phil and Tony, they were noted at school for their fearless, at times even reckless, dispositions. They passed the Kane farmhouse, nestling among the trees, and at last came in sight of the gloomy cliff that rose from Barmet Bay and at the summit of which perched the rambling stone house where the miser, Felix Polucca, had met his death. “Lonely looking place, isn’t it?” remarked Phil, who was sharing Frank’s motorcycle. “It was an ideal place for a murder. When Felix Polucca lived there, I doubt if he had more than two or three visitors in a year.” “How did he get his food and supplies?” “He used to drive into the city about once a week in a rattly old buggy, with a horse that must have come out of the Ark. The poor animal looked as if it hadn’t had a square meal in a lifetime. Polucca must have been a little bit crazy. How he lived alone up there all the time, nobody could understand. He worked hard enough and he made the farm pay. No one could drive a better bargain when it came to selling his hay and grain.”