The Secret Panel by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online

advice, the boys told Mrs. Hardy their plans and drove to police headquarters. Chief Collig was just coming down the front steps as they pulled up.
    â€œHave you solved the Mead mystery?” he asked, walking over to their car.
    â€œWish we had,” Frank responded. “That is why we’re here. We’d like to go there again.”
    The chief frowned. “I can’t spare any of my men right now, Frank, and I’d rather you wouldn’t do it alone.”
    â€œWe’ll be all right, Frank assured him. ”You know we don’t take any unnecessary chances.”
    â€œWell, tell you what. Go ahead, but call me when you’re finished. If I don’t hear from you within a couple of hours, I’ll send a squad car.”
    â€œFine. And thanks a lot, Chief.”
    Frank started the car, and soon the boys pulled into the Mead driveway. Frank concealed the car far behind the house.
    â€œJust in case,” he said.
    â€œSuppose we take different doors to work on,” Joe suggested. “If you find a way in, yell!”
    Frank gave the okay sign, and Joe hurried to the ornate door which faced the water. He surveyed the uniquely carved design critically. There was a keyhole hidden somewhere in the carving. But where?
    Closely inspecting the door, Joe started at the right of the panel, pushing at each ridge of the symmetrical design. His search yielded nothing. He tried the left side, without success.
    For half an hour he pushed and pulled, growing more puzzled each minute. Finally he tried combinations pressing with both hands on sections of the raised design. Suddenly his efforts were rewarded. Two pieces of molding moved. A keyhole!
    â€œFrank!” he called elatedly. “I’ve found one!”
    The tall, dark-haired boy came running. “Great!” he said. “Here, try the key!”
    Joe did. A look of disappointment spread over his face. It did not fit.
    â€œWell,” he decided, “I suppose it belongs to another door. Come on!”
    They walked to the massive front door which Frank had worked on, and once more went over the intricate design. The upper and lower halves were outlined with a wide border, each containing an inset. At first glance the top inset seemed to depict a huge turtle.
    Frank, standing at a little distance, suddenly had an idea. “Say, Joe, that turtle’s legs look almost like the strange Y symbol!”
    Joe stepped back a few yards. “You’re right! The two front feet and the right hind one do form a Y, sort of. Wonder if there’s an answer here.”
    Frank pressed his palm against the arched back of the turtle. Suddenly the reptile’s right hind foot moved to the side, revealing a large keyhole.
    â€œLook!” he said excitedly, taking the key from Joe and inserting it. “Success!”
    Holding his breath, Frank turned the key. There was a clicking sound and the door swung inward on hidden, noiseless hinges.
    â€œHere goes!” Frank whispered as he pocketed the key and stepped over the threshold.

CHAPTER VII
    The Mysterious Mansion
    Â 
    Â 
    Â 
    Â 
    WITH a similar thrill of discovery, Joe followed Frank into the dark Mead mansion.
    When their eyes became accustomed to the dimness of the shuttered house, the boys gazed around. They were in a large, carpeted entrance hall. The walls were solidly paneled in carved wood, and the Hardys’ flashlights revealed that the inside of the front door had the identical turtle design as the outside.
    Slowly they went from room to room, peering through the open doorways. Library, living room, dining room—all were tastefully decorated. But the house smelled musty and the furniture was draped with dust sheets, producing a gloomy effect.
    â€œThis place hasn’t been lived in for a long time,” Joe said. “If Mead—or whoever that man on the road was—stayed here, it must have been in the garage!”
    â€œWho was that