"And then things will start popping!" Frank murmured.
The boys heaved their shoulders against the trap door. In a moment there came the rumble of rolling logs.
The door went up easily.
Frank peered out. No one seemed to be around.
He stepped up into the shed and the others followed.
The three stood in silence. The night was dark. The wind, blowing through the trees, made a moaning
sound. Before the Hardys rose the gloomy mass of the house on the cliff. No lights could be seen.
From the direction of the lane came dull, thudding sounds. The boys and their father assumed the
smugglers' truck was being loaded with the goods which were to be disposed of by the man named
Burke.
Suddenly the Hardys heard voices from the corridor they had just left. Quickly Frank closed the trap
door and Joe piled up the logs. Then, silently, the Hardys stole out into the yard.
CHAPTER XVII
Hostages
LITHE as Indians the three Hardys hurried across the lawn and disappeared among the trees. They
headed for the road, a good distance away.
"I hope a bus comes along," Frank said to himself. "Then we can get to a phone and report-"
His thought was rudely interrupted as the boys and their father heard a sound that struck terror to their
hearts-the clatter of the logs tumbling off the trap door!
An instant later came a hoarse shout. "Chief! Red! The Hardys got away! Watch out for them!"
"He must be one of the men we heard coming up from the shore," Joe decided. "They must have found
Malloy trussed up!"
Instantly the place became alive with smugglers flashing their lights. Some of the men ran from the truck
toward the road, shouting. Others began to comb the woods. Another man emerged from the trap door.
He and his companion dashed to the ocean side of the house.
Two burly smugglers flung open the kitchen door and ran out. One shouted, "They ain't in the house!"
"And they're not down at the shore!" the other yelled. "I just talked to Klein on the phone down there."
"You guys better not let those Hardys get away!" Snattman's voice cut through the night. "It'll be the pen
for all of you!"
"Fenton Hardy's got a gun! He took Malloy's!" came a warning voice from the far side of the house. The
two men who had gone to the front now returned. "He never misses his mark!"
When the fracas had started, the detective had pulled his sons to the ground, told them to lie flat, face
down, and not to move. Now they could hear the pounding steps of the smugglers as they dashed among
the trees. The boys' hearts pounded wildly. It did not seem possible they could be missed!
Yet man after man ran within a few yards of the three prone figures and dashed on toward the road.
Presently Mr. Hardy raised his head and looked toward the Pollitt mansion.
"Boys," he said tensely, "we'll make a run for the kitchen door. The men won't expect us to go there."
The three arose. Swiftly and silently they crossed the dark lawn and slipped into the house. Apparently
no one had seen them.
"When Snattman doesn't find us outdoors," Joe whispered, "won't he look here to make sure?"
"Yes," Mr. Hardy replied. "But by that time I hope the Coast Guard and State Police will arrive."
"Joe and I found a hidden stairway to the attic," Frank spoke up. "Snattman won't think of looking in it.
Let's hide up there."
"You forget the ghost," Joe reminded his brother. "He knows we found that stairway."
"Nevertheless, Frank's suggestion is a good one," Mr. Hardy said. "Let's go to the attic. Were any
clothes hanging in the closet that might be used to conceal the door?"
"Yes, a man's bathrobe on a rod."
The Hardys did not dare use a light and had to make their way along by feeling walls, and the stair
banister, with Frank in the lead and Mr. Hardy between the boys. Reaching the second floor, Frank
looked out the rear window of the hall.
"The smugglers are coming back!" he remarked in a low voice. "The lights are heading this way!"
The Hardys doubled their speed, but it was still slow going, for they banged into chairs and a wardrobe
as Frank felt his way along the hall toward the bedroom where the hidden staircase was. Finally the trio
reached it. Just as Frank was about to open the door to the attic, a door on the first floor swung open
with a resounding bang. "Scatter and search every room!" Snattman's crisp voice rang out. "We're
trapped!" Joe groaned. "Maybe not," Frank said hopefully. "I have a hunch Klein was the ghost. It's
possible that he's the only one who knows about this stairway and he's down at the shore."
"We'll risk going up," Mr. Hardy decided. "But not a sound." He slid the bathrobe across the rod, so that
it would hide the door.
"The stairs creak," Joe informed him. Mr. Hardy told his sons to push down the treads slowly but firmly
with their hands and hold them there until they put one foot between them and then raised up to their full
weight.
"And lean forward, so you won't lose your balance," he warned.
Fearful that he could not accomplish this, Frank opened the door carefully and started up in the pitch
blackness. But the dread thought of capture made him use extreme caution and he reached the attic
without having made a sound.
After closing the door, Joe and his father quickly followed. The three moved noiselessly to a spot out of
sight of the stairway behind a large trunk.
They sat down and waited, not daring even to whisper. From downstairs they could hear running
footsteps, banging doors, and loud talk.
"Not here!"
"Not here!"
"Not here!"
The search seemed to come to an end, for the second-floor group had gathered right in the room where
the secret stairway was.
"This is it! The end! They're going to search up here!" Frank thought woefully.
His father reached over and grasped a hand of each of his sons in a reassuring grip. Someone yanked
open the closet door. The Hardys became tense. Would the robe over the entrance to the secret
stairway fool him?
"Empty!" the man announced and shut the door. The smugglers went downstairs.
There were fervent handshakes among the detective and his sons. Other than this they did not move a
muscle of their bodies, although they inwardly relaxed.
Now new worries assailed the Hardys. It was possible that Snattman and his gang, having been alerted,
would move out and disappear before the police or Coast Guard could get to the house on the cliff.
Frank's heart gave a jump. He suddenly realized that his father was hiding to protect his sons. Had he
been alone, the intrepid detective would have been downstairs battling to get the better of Snattman and
break up the smuggling ring.
"What a swell father he is!" Frank thought. Then another idea came to him. "Maybe being here isn't such
a bad plan after all. Dad might have been fatally shot if he'd been anywhere else on the property."
A moment later the Hardys again became aware of voices on the second floor. They recognized one as
Snattman's, the other as Klein's.
"Yeah, there's a secret stairway to the attic," Klein announced. "I found it when I was playin' ghost. And
them Hardy boys-they found it too. I'll bet my last take on those rare drugs we're gettin' tonight that the
dick and his sons are up in that attic!"
The Hardys' spirits sank. They were going to be captured again after all I
They heard the door at the foot of the stairway open. "Go up and look, Klein," ordered Snattman.