Part 7 (1/2)

”What is it?” Joe asked quickly.

Creech held a little capsule between his fingers, It was about an inch long. At one end was a tiny stem.

”What the d.i.c.kens is that?” Chief Collig thun. dered.

”Sort of a little bomb,” the technician explained. ”It could hold a liquid or a gas.”

”What's the stem for?” Frank queried.

”That,” Creech answered, ”is a plunger. The end of the plunger was flush with one end of the cigarette.”

”Would it release the stuff inside the capsule?” Joe asked.

”Right,” came the reply. ”Pressure on the plunger trips a spring inside the tiny vial to free whatever is in it.”

”What was in the capsule?” Collig asked 68 ”That I can't tell,” Creech answered, ”but I think it might have been some sort of gas.”

Then he smiled at the boys and added, ”Is this gadget for a party prank?”

”No, sirree,” Frank replied. ”I think the chief knows what it is. If he wants to tell you, that's all right with me.”

Creech glanced at the chief, whose furrowed brow indicated he was battling with a tough problem. He looked at the Hardys.

”You boys have done Bayport a great service,” he said. Then he turned to Creech. ”This cigarette,” he said, ”is being used by criminals to knock out their victims.”

Immediately it dawned on the technician. ”I get it!” he exclaimed. ”The crook holds the cigarette near the intended victim and presses the plunger. Then the gas, or whatever it is, knocks the person out long enough to be robbed!”

”Exactly,” Frank said. ”When I pressed the plunger by accident, I saw spots before my eyes and keeled over.”

”This must be kept secret,” Collig said. ”Aside from telling Mr. Hardy and Sam Radley, you boys must keep this quiet.”

As the three agreed, Frank added, ”Wonder what kind of gas the crooks use? It had no lasting effect on me. I feel fine now.”

6S; Again Collig pressed a b.u.t.ton on his desk. ”Al's shop will be raided at once,” he told the boys, as the door opened and a sergeant entered. ”Want to come along?”

”You bet! And we'll have to hurry. Bearcat's probably tipped off Al by now,” Frank said.

The police, led by the chief and the three boys, speeded to the shop. Their sirens were muted, so as not to advertise their arrival to Al or any of his confederates.

Chief Collig's aide deftly steered the big black police sedan through the downtown traffic and headed for the water front. Then, with tires and breaks squealing, it pulled up in front of Al's. In a moment two other carloads of police joined them.

Frank and Joe were told to stay in the rear, in case there should be trouble. Chet lingered at the sidewalk, fascinated by the squad of bluecoats who issued from the police cars.

”n.o.body's here!” exclaimed Collig in the lead.

”Hey, smells like something's burning,” Frank cried out, joining him.

He ran to the back door and looked into the alley, just in time to see Al hotfooting it away. A smoldering package lay by the door.

”Stop!” Frank shouted at him.

As he called, two policemen appeared at the end of the alley, cutting off the man's escape. They 70 collared Al at once and brought him to Chief Collig.

Frank stamped out the fire in the package, most of which had been reduced to black char.

”Look here, chief!” Frank exclaimed, kicking what was left to one side and opening a a cigarette at arm's length. ”They're Arrows!”

”What does this mean?” Chief Collig growled, addressing the surly Al.

”I ain't done nuthin' ” came the reply. ”Just burned some stale cigarettes.”

Joe took one of them in his fingers. It had been burned halfway through. Nothing was left but half the capsule, which smoldered with a peculiar odor.

”The capsule burns!” he cried out. ”It's made of some sort of plastic!”

”That's probably why we haven't found any evidence before,” Collig said. ”The thieves burn up the cigarettes and leave no evidence.”

He ordered handcuffs slipped on Al. ”Come on!” he said. ”You've got a lot of explaining to do at headquarters.”

”I ain't explainin' a thing,” the man declared stubbornly.

While this was going on in the alley, other police officers had searched the store. They had found nothing but a meager stock of popular brands of tobacco. He had burned all the telltale evidence!

”We'll take this man in my car,” said Collig.

71 When the Hardys arrived at the station, they bade the chief good-bye, took Chet to a bus that stopped at his farm, and then hurried to the hospital.

Mr. Hardy, who was improving slowly, listened with admiration to his sons' account of the discovery of the Arrow cigarettes.

”There's one thing we must do soon,” he said.

”I think I know what you mean,” Frank put in to keep his father from overexerting himself.

”Rout out all the Arrow cigarettes in this area, and see if we can pick up any clues to what is used or where the cigarettes come from.”

”Right.” Mr. Hardy smiled. ”Without the loaded cigarettes, the crooks won't be able to commit such bold robberies.” Then he added, ”Meanwhile, suppose you boys get ready to go to Cousin Ruth's. You ought to make reservations on the train before the end of the week.”

Next morning, Frank and Joe got in touch with Sam Radley, and the three set out to locate more Arrow cigarettes. While the local police undertook to do the job in Bayport, Sam and the boys drove to near-by towns, which also had experienced an outbreak of holdups.

They stopped in all sorts of shops where cigarettes might be sold, asking the same question: ”Have you any Arrows? Al sent us to get some.”

Time after time the boys, working apart from 72 Sam, were met by vacant stares and, ”Don't know what you're talking about!”

But in Green Point, a village near Pleasantville, a tobacco shopman replied, ”Al sent you?”

”Yep,” Frank answered, his pulse quickening.