His confidence was contagious. Callie brightened up immediately. "In that case," she said, gaily, "the mystery is as good as solved. The three best detectives in the world are working on it. Good-bye, Frank." With that she ran lightly into the house. CHAPTER XIV RED JACKLEY It was another week before Fenton Hardy returned to Bayport. Contrary to the expectations of the boys, he did not arrive from New York. Instead, he came home early one morning, having reached the city by a train from the west. He had sent no advance notice of his arrival, and the first his sons knew of it was when a servant told them that their father had reached the house in the early hours of the morning, plainly careworn and travel-stained. He had gone immediately to bed, leaving orders that he was on no account to be disturbed. This was at breakfast, and although the boys were wild with impatience to learn the outcome of their father's trip, they were obliged to curb their curiosity. Mr. Hardy was still sleeping when they left for school that morning and, to their surprise, he was asleep when they came back home for lunch. "He must be mighty tired!" remarked Joe. "I wonder where on earth he came from?" "Probably been up all night. When dad gets hard at work on a case he forgets all about sleep. I'll bet he found something." "Hope so. But I wish he'd wake up and tell us. I hate to go back to school without knowing." But Mr. Hardy had not awakened by the time the boys set out for school again, although they lingered until they were in danger of being late. All afternoon they were tormented by curiosity. Where had their father been? What had he discovered? As soon as school was out they fled down the steps, broke away from a group of boys anxious to get up a baseball game, and shattered all records in their race for home. Fenton Hardy was in the library, and as they rushed panting into the room he grinned broadly at his sons, for he was quite well aware that they were impatient to hear an account of his trip. He looked refreshed after his long sleep and it was evident that his trip had not been entirely without success, for his manner was cheerful. The Hardy boys knew their father well, and they knew that when a case was difficult of solution the great detective became moody and worried. "What luck, dad?" asked Frank, perching on the arm of an easy chair. Mr. Hardy raised his eyebrows, pretending not to understand. "About what?" he inquired. "About the case. The Tower Mansion case. The red wig. Did you find out who owned it? Did you catch the thief?" "Whoa! Whoa! Not all at once. A question at a time please. Now, do I understand that you want to know if I found out anything about the Tower Mansion affair?" "Don't keep us waiting, dad," pleaded Joe. "You know that's what we're asking you about." "Well," answered Mr. Hardy, "yes--and no!"