"If any one was hurt they've been taken away by now. Probably this wreck is a day or so old," said Frank. "Let's go. We can't do any good here." They left the wreckage and returned to the road again, resuming their journey. "I thought at first it might be our red-headed speed fiend," said Frank. "If it was, he was sure lucky to get out of it alive." The boys gave little further thought to the incident and before long they were in sight of the Mortons' house, a big, homelike, rambling old farmhouse with an apple orchard at the rear. When the boys drove down the lane they saw a figure awaiting them at the barnyard gate. "That's Chet," said Frank. "I'm glad we found him at home. I thought he might have gone out in the car." "It is strange," Joe agreed. "On a holiday like this he doesn't usually stay around the farm." As they approached, they saw Chet leave the gate and come down the lane to meet them. Chet was one of the most popular boys at the Bayport high school, one reason for his popularity being his unfailing good nature and his ability to see fun in almost everything. He was full of jokes and good humor and was rarely seen without a smile on his plump, freckled face. But to-day the Hardy boys saw that there was something wrong. Chet's face had an anxious expression, and as they brought their motorcycles to a stop they saw that their chum's usually cheery face was clouded. "What's the matter?" asked Frank, as their friend hastened up to them. "You're just in time," replied Chet hurriedly. "You didn't meet a fellow driving my roadster, did you?" The brothers looked at each other blankly. "_Your_ roadster? We'd recognize it anywhere. No, we didn't see it," said Joe. "What's happened?" "It's been stolen." "Stolen?" "An auto thief stole it from the garage not half an hour ago. He just went in as cool as you please and made away with the car. The hired man saw the roadster disappearing down the lane, but he supposed I was in it so he didn't think anything of it. Then he saw me out in the yard a little while later, so he got suspicious--and the roadster was gone." "Wasn't it locked?" "That's the strange part of it. The car was locked, although the garage door was open. I can't see how he got away with it." "A professional job," commented Frank. "These auto thieves always carry scores of keys with them. But we're losing time here. The only thing is to set out in pursuit and to notify the police. The hired man didn't see which way the fellow went, did he?" "No." "There is only the one road, and we didn't meet him, so he must have taken the turning to the right at the end of the lane." "We'll chase him," said Joe. "Climb onto my bike, Chet. We'll get the thief yet." "Wait a minute," cried Frank suddenly. "I have an idea! Joe, do you remember that car we saw wrecked in the bushes?" "Sure." "Perhaps the driver stole the first automobile he could lay his hands on after the wreck." "What wreck was that?" asked Chet.