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“Best of all, Dad will be proud of us.”

The old water tower reared forlornly alongside the tracks. At close quarters it seemed even more decrepit than from a distance. When the boys glanced at the ladder with its many rungs missing, they wondered if they would be able to ascend to the top on it.

“If Jackley climbed this ladder we can too,” said Frank as he stopped, panting, at the bottom. “Let’s go!”

He began to scramble up the rotted wood rungs. He had ascended only four of them when there came an alarming crack!

“Careful!” Joe cried out from below.

Frank clung to the rung above just as the one beneath him snapped under his weight. He drew himself up and cautiously put his foot on the next rung. This one was firmer and held his weight.

“Hey!” Joe called up. “Don’t break all the rungs! I want to come up too!”

Frank continued to climb the ladder as his brother began the ascent. When they came to any place where a rung had broken off, the boys were obliged to haul themselves up by main force. But finally Frank reached the top and waited until Joe was just beneath him.

“There’s a trap door up here leading down into the tank,” Frank called.

“Well, for Pete’s sake, be careful,” Joe warned. “We don’t want any more accidents with trap doors.”

The boys climbed onto the roof of the tower, which swayed under their weight. Both fully realized their peril.

“We can’t give up now!” said Frank, and scrambled over the surface of the roof until he reached the trap door. Joe followed. They unlatched and raised the door, then peered down into the recesses of the abandoned water tank. It was about seven feet in depth and twelve in diameter.

Frank lowered himself through the opening, but clung to the rim until he was sure, from feeling around with his feet, that the floor would not break through. “It’s okay,” he told Joe, who followed his brother inside.

Eagerly the boys peered about the dim interior. The place seemed to be partly filled with rubbish. There was a quantity of old lumber, miscellaneous bits of steel rails, battered tin pails, and crowbars, all piled in helter-skelter fashion. At first glance there was no sign of the Applegates’ stolen possessions.

“The jewels and bonds must be here somewhere,” Joe declared. “But if Jackley did put the stuff here, he wouldn’t have left it right out in the open. It’s probably hidden under some of this junk.”

Frank pulled out a flashlight and swung it around. In its glow Joe began to hunt frantically, casting aside the old pails and pieces of lumber. One entire half of the tower was searched without result. Frank turned the flashlight to the far side and noted that a number of boards had been piled up in a rather orderly crisscrossed manner. “Joe,” said Frank, “I’d say these boards hadn’t been thrown here accidentally. It sure looks as if somebody had placed them deliberately to hide something underneath.” “You’re right.”

Like a terrier after a bone, Joe dived toward the pile. Hastily he pulled away the boards.

Revealed in the neat little hiding place lay a bag. It was an ordinary gunny sack, but as Joe dragged it out he felt sure that the search for the Applegate property had come to an end. “This must be it!” he exulted. “The Tower treasure!” Frank smothered a whoop of joy.

Joe carried the sack into the light beneath the trap door.

“Hurry up! Open it!” Frank urged.

With trembling fingers Joe began to untie the cord around the sack. There were many knots, and as Joe worked at them, Frank fidgeted nervously.

“Let me try,” he said impatiently.

At last, with both Hardys working on the stubborn knots, the cord was untied and the bag gaped open. Joe plunged one hand into it and withdrew an old-fashioned bracelet of precious stones.

“Jewelry!”

“How about the securities?”

Again Joe groped into the sack. His fingers encountered a bulky packet. When he pulled it out, the boys exclaimed in unison:

“The bonds!”

The bundle of papers, held together by an elastic band, proved to be the securities. The first of the documents was a negotiable bond for one thousand dollars issued by the city of Bayport.

“Mr. Applegate’s property!” Frank cried out triumphantly. “Joe, do you realize what this means? We’ve solved the mystery!”

The brothers looked at each other almost unbelievingly, then each slapped the other on the back. “We did it! We did it!” Joe cried out jubilantly.

Frank grinned. “And without old Smuff,” he said.

“Now Mr. Robinson’s cleared for sure!” Joe exclaimed. “That’s the best part of solving this mystery.”

“You’re right!”

The boys rejoiced over their discovery for another full minute, then decided to hurry back to Bayport with the precious sack.

“You go down first, Frank,” said Joe. “I’ll toss the sack to you and then come myself.”

He picked up the bag and was about to hoist it to his shoulders when both boys heard a sound on the roof of the tower. They looked up to see an evil-looking, unshaven man peering down at them.

“Halt!” he ordered.

“Who are you?” Frank asked.

“They call me Hobo Johnny,” the man replied. “This here is my quarters and anything in it belongs to me. You got no right in my room. You can’t take anything away. And t’anks for finding the wad. I never thought to look around.”

Joe, taken aback a moment, now said, “You may sleep here, but this is railroad property. You don’t own what’s in this tower. Now go on down the ladder, so we can leave.”

“So you’re going to fight, eh?” Hobo Johnny said in an ugly tone. “I’ll see about that!”

Without warning the trap door was slammed shut and locked from the outside!

CHAPTER XX

The Escape

“LET us out of here!” Frank shouted at Hobo Johnny.

“You can’t get away with this!” Joe yelled.

The man on the water tower roof gave a loud guffaw. “You think I ain’t got no brains. Well, I got enough to know when I’m well off. I ain’t in no hurry to collect that treasure you found in the tower. A few days from now will be all right for me to sell it.”

“A few days from now?” Joe exclaimed, horrified. “By that time we’ll be suffocated or die of starvation.”

Frank put an arm around his impulsive brother’s shoulder. In a low tone he said, “We won’t do either, Joe. I don’t think it’s going to be too hard to get out of here. If not by the trap door, we’ll hack our way out through one side of the tank.”

Joe calmed down and both boys became silent. This seemed to worry Hobo Johnny, who called down, “What’re you guys up to?”

No answer.

“Okay. I’m leaving you now, but I’ll be back for that treasure. Don’t try any funny stuff or you’ll get hurt!”

The man on the roof waited a few moments for an answer. Receiving none, he shuffled across the tower to the ladder.

“I hope he doesn’t break all the rungs,” said Joe worriedly. “We won’t be able to get down.”

Again Frank patted his brother on the shoulder. “I noticed an iron pipe running from the top of this tower to the bottom,” he said. “If necessary, we can slide down the pipe.”

“How long do you think we should wait before trying to break out of here?” Joe asked.

Before replying, Frank pondered the situation. Not knowing anything about Hobo Johnny’s habits, he wondered how far away from the tower the man would go. If not far, the boys might find him waiting below and a tough person to handle. Finally, Frank decided that since the tramp had said he would return in an hour, he must be planning to go some distance away, perhaps to get a couple of his hobo friends to come back and help him.