The Secret Warning by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online Page A

went on.”
    Miss Hardy eyed her nephews severely. “I tried at once to contact you two or Fenton on the radio, but got no answer.”
    â€œWe were holed up in a lighthouse with a spook after us,” Joe explained.
    â€œHumph.” His aunt gave him a suspicious glare through her spectacles. “Be that as it may, I was here alone—helpless. I might have been murdered in my sleep!”
    The boys managed to mollify her by complimenting her on her courage and presence of mind.
    â€œDid you call the police, Aunty?” Frank asked.
    â€œNaturally. But they found no footprints, no clues of any kind.”
    Suddenly she again looked annoyed. “Which reminds me. The curator called from the new Howard Museum.”
    â€œMr. Scath?” said Frank, immediately interested. “What did he want?”
    â€œWouldn’t tell me. Just asked to speak to Fenton or one of you.” Miss Hardy sniffed. “I suppose he thought not being in the detective business I wasn’t bright enough to take a message.”
    â€œI doubt that, Aunt Gertrude.” Grinning, Frank went to the phone and called the Howard Museum. In a few moments he reached Mr. Scath.
    â€œGlad you called, Frank,” the curator said. “Something rather odd has come up. Since your father serves as our security adviser, I thought I’d better pass the word along.”
    â€œWhat’s it about, sir?”
    Mr. Scath explained that he had received a telephone call just before lunch. “The man wouldn’t give his name, but he warned me that someone might contact the museum soon and try to sell me a fake Egyptian art object.”
    Frank’s eyebrows shot up. “Did he say who this phony was, or what the object would be?”
    â€œNo hint at all. In fact, he hung up before I could ask any questions.”
    â€œThanks for letting us know, Mr. Scath,” said Frank. “Dad’s out of town right now, but that tip could be very important. If any such art faker does show up, I’d appreciate it if you’d let us know right away.”
    â€œI’ll certainly do that.”
    After completing the call, Frank told his brother the news.
    â€œWow! A fake Egyptian art object!” Joe exclaimed. “It could be an imitation of the Pharaoh’s head Dad’s looking for.”
    â€œJust what I was thinking,” Frank said.
    The Hardy boys decided to sleep downstairs, in case the unknown prowler might make another attempt to break into the house. But the night passed without incident.
    The next morning the two boys decided to go to the beach for a swim.
    â€œLet’s stop off at Chet’s and see if he wants to come,” Joe suggested.
    Under a blaze of dazzling sunshine they started off in their convertible. Presently they turned up a dirt lane that led to the Morton farmhouse, just outside of Bayport. Two girls were seated on the front porch.
    Iola, Chet’s pixie-faced, dark-haired sister, was Joe’s favorite date. She hopped up from the porch swing to greet the visitors. “Hi, you two ghost hunters!”
    Her friend, Callie Shaw, a pretty brown-eyed blond girl, chimed in, “What’s the latest on the Whalebone spook?”
    â€œLast we heard, he needed a shave,” said Frank, climbing out of the car and smiling at Callie, whom he liked very much.
    â€œWhere’s Strongheart?” Joe asked.
    At that moment Chet burst out through the screen door, munching on a large Danish pastry.
    â€œSomebody call me? Oh, hi, fellows!”
    â€œWhat’s that—breakfast or lunch?” Frank asked with a grin.
    Iola laughed. “With Chet, there’s no hard and fast distinction.”
    â€œAw, cut it out,” the chubby youth said good-naturedly. “I’m just finishing breakfast.” He added to the Hardys, “Slept late, that’s all. Who wouldn’t after that rugged expedition you guys roped me into!”
    â€œOkay,