“Sure, I found it. A grey cap—with bloodstains on it.” “That’s the one. But why did you hide it when I went into the kitchen?” “Well, to tell the truth, them bloodstains made me nervous. I didn’t know but what there might be some trouble come of it, so I thought I’d better keep that cap out of sight.” “Where did you find it?” Joe demanded. “About a mile from here.” “On the shore road?” “Yes. It was lying right in the middle of the road.” “When was this?” “A couple of days ago—just after we moved in here.” “Let’s see the cap,” suggested Chet Morton. “We want to make sure of this.” Redhead moved reluctantly toward the kitchen. The woman sniffed. “I don’t see why you’re makin’ all this fuss about an old cap,” she said. “Comin’ around at this hour of the day disturbin’ honest folk.” “We’re sorry to disturb you, ma’am,” said Joe. “But this is a serious matter.” Redhead emerged from the house holding the cap in one hand. He tossed it over to the boys. They examined it eagerly. Frank turned back the inside flap and there he found what he was looking for—the initials F.H. imprinted in indelible ink on the leather band. “It’s dad’s cap, all right.” “I don’t like the look of those bloodstains,” said Joe, in a low voice. “He must have been badly hurt.” To tell the truth, the inside of the cap gave evidence that the wearer had been severely injured, for the bloodstains were of large extent. The boys examined them gravely. “Are you sure you found this on the road?” Frank asked doubtfully. “You don’t think I’d lie about it, do you?” “We can’t very well contradict you. I don’t mind telling you that we’re going to turn this over to the police. This man has disappeared, and by the appearance of this cap he has met with foul play. If you know anything about it you’d better speak up now.” “He doesn’t know anything about it,” shrilled the woman angrily. “Go away and don’t bother us. Didn’t he tell you he found the cap on the road? Why should he know anythin’ more about it than that?” “We’re going to take the cap with us.” “Take it,” snapped Redhead. “I don’t want it.” The boys turned away. Nothing further was to be gained by questioning the trio in the yard, and at any rate the lads had gained possession of the cap. “We’d better go,” said Frank in a low voice. They went back toward the lane. As they entered it they cast a last glance back at the yard. The woman and the two men were standing just where they had left them. The woman was motionless, her hands on her hips. Redhead was standing with his arms folded and the swarthy man was leaning on the axe. All three were gazing intently and silently after the departing boys. CHAPTER XIII A PLAN OF ATTACK Back in Bayport the boys discussed their visit to the house on the cliff from all angles. None was satisfied with the explanation the red-headed man had given about the presence of the bloodstained cap in the house.