At the far end of the street stood a small cottage that somehow contrived to look homelike in spite of the surroundings. The picket fence had been repaired and the yard had been cleaned up.
“This is where they live,” said Frank.
Callie smiled. “It’s the neatest place on the whole street.”
Paula and Tessie answered their knock. The twins’ faces lighted up with pleasure when they saw who the callers were.
“Frank and Callie!” they exclaimed. “Come in.”
The callers were greeted with kindly dignity by Mrs. Robinson. She looked pale and thin but had the same self-possession she had always shown at Tower Mansion.
“We can’t stay long,” Callie explained. “But Frank and I just thought we’d run out to see how you all are. And we brought something for you.”
The fruit, ham, and cake were presented. As the twins ohed and ahed over the food, Mrs. Robinson’s eyes filled with tears, “You are dear people,” she said. “Frank, tell your mother I can’t thank her enough.”
Frank grinned as Mrs. Robinson went on, “Callie, we shall enjoy this fruit very much. Many thanks.”
Paula said, “It’s a wonderful gift. Say, did you know Perry got a better job the second day he was at the supermarket?”
“No. That’s swell,” Frank replied. “It didn’t take the manager long to find out how smart Slim is, eh?”
The twins giggled, but Mrs. Robinson said dolefully, “I wish my husband could find a job. Since no one around here will employ him, he is thinking of going to another city to get work.”
“And leave you here?”
“I suppose so. We don’t know what to do.”
“It’s so unfair!” Paula flared up. “My father didn’t have a thing to do with that miserable robbery, and yet he has to suffer for it just the same!”
Mrs. Robinson said to Frank hesitantly, “Has Mr. Hardy discovered anything-yet?”
“I don’t know,” Frank admitted. “We haven’t heard from him. He’s been in New York following up some clues. But so far there’s been no word.”
“We hardly dare hope that he’ll be able to clear Mr. Robinson,” the woman said sorrowfully. “The whole case is so mysterious.”
“I’ve stopped thinking of it,” Tessie declared. “If the mystery is cleared up, okay. If it isn’t-we won’t starve, at any rate, and my father knows we believe in him.”
“Yes, I suppose it doesn’t do much good to keep talking about it,” agreed Mrs. Robinson. “We’ve gone over the whole matter so thoroughly that there is nothing more to say.”
So, by tacit consent, the subject was changed and for the rest of their stay Frank and Callie chatted of doings at school. Mrs. Robinson and the girls invited them to remain for supper, but Callie insisted that she must go. As they were leaving, Mrs. Robinson drew Frank to one side.
“Promise me one thing,” she said. “Let me know as soon as your father returns-that is, if he has any news.”
“I’ll do that, Mrs. Robinson,” Frank agreed. “I know what this suspense must be like for you and the twins.”
“It’s terrible. But as long as Fenton Hardy-and his sons-are working on the case, I’m sure it will be straightened out.”
Callie and Frank were unusually silent all the way home. They had been profoundly affected by the change that the Tower Mansion mystery had caused in the lives of the Robinsons. Callie lived but a few blocks from the Hardy home, and Frank accompanied her to the door.
“See you tomorrow,” he said.
“Yes, Frank. And I hope you’ll hear good news from your father.”
The boy quickened his steps and ran eagerly into the Hardy house. Joe met him.
“Any phone call?”
Joe shook his head. “Mother’s pretty worried that something has happened to Dad.”
CHAPTER XII
A Disturbing Absence
ANOTHER whole day went by. When still no word had come from Mr. Hardy, his wife phoned the New York hotel. She was told that the detective had checked out the day before.
Discouraged and nervous about the new mystery of their father’s disappearance, Frank and Joe found it almost impossible to concentrate on their studies.
Then, the following morning when Mrs. Hardy came to awaken them, she wore a broad smile. “Your father is home!” she said excitedly. “He’s all right but has had a bad time. He’s asleep now and will tell you everything after school.”
The boys were wild with impatience to learn the outcome of his trip, but they were obliged to curb their curiosity.
“Dad must be mighty tired,” Joe remarked, as Mrs. Hardy went downstairs to start breakfast. “I wonder where he came from.”
“Probably he was up all night. When he’s working on a case, he forgets about sleep. Do you think he found out anything?”
“Hope so, Frank. 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, although they lingered until they were in danger of being late. As soon as classes were over, they shattered all records in their race home.
Fenton Hardy was in the living room, and as they rushed in panting, he grinned broadly. 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.
“Hello, boys! Sorry I worried you and Mother.”
“What luck, Dad?” asked Frank.
“Good and bad. Here’s the story: I went to the house where Red Jackley was boarding. Although he seemed to be an exemplary parolee, I decided to watch him a while and try to make friends.”
“How could you do that?”
“By taking a room in the same house and pretending to be a fellow criminal.”
“Wow!” Joe cried. “And then?”
“Jackley himself spoiled everything. He got mixed up in a jewel robbery and cleared out of the city. Luckily, I heard him packing, and I trailed him. The police were watching for him and he couldn’t get out of town by plane or bus. He outwitted the police by jumping a freight on the railroad.”
“And you still followed?”
“I lost him two or three times, but fortunately I managed to pick up his trail again. He got out of the city and into upper New York State. Then his luck failed him. A railroad detective recognized Jackley and the chase was on. Up to that time I had been content with just keeping behind him. I had still hoped to pose as a fellow fugitive and win his confidence. But when the pursuit started in earnest, I had to join the officers.”
“And they caught Jackley?”
“Not without great difficulty. Jackley, by the way, was once a railroad man. Strangely enough, he worked not many miles from here. He managed to steal a railroad handcar and got away from us. But he didn’t last long, for the handcar jumped the tracks on a curve and Jackley was badly smashed up.”
“Killed?” Frank asked quickly.
“No. But he’s in a hospital right now and the doctors say he hasn’t much of a chance.”
“He’s under arrest?”
“Oh, yes. He’s being held for the jewel thefts and also for the theft from the actor’s dressing room. But he probably won’t live to answer either charge.”
“Didn’t you find out anything that would connect him with the Tower robbery?”
“Not a thing.”
The boys were disappointed, and their expressions showed it. If Red Jackley died without confessing, the secret of the Tower robbery would die with him. Mr. Robinson might never be cleared. He might be doomed to spend the rest of his life under a cloud, suspected of being a thief.
“Have you talked to Jackley?” Frank asked.
“I didn’t have a chance-he wasn’t conscious.”