Part 3 (1/2)

”Now to question Baldy,” Frank said. He stabbed the buzzer beside the door repeatedly until a light shone inside. The manager, sleepy-eyed and holding up his trousers with one hand, opened the door. He was not in a good mood.

”What do you mean waking me up at this hour?” he asked crossly. ”If you're going to check out, wait till morning, for Pete's sake.”

”Somebody else checked us out,” Frank said. ”We'd like to ask you some questions.”

Alarmed by the boys' determination, the manager let them in. There the Hardys learned that the instigator of the room switch was a member of a local fraternity at Kenworthy College.

”I thought these college kids were just going to have some fun with you,” the man said.

”The police might give it a different label,” Frank replied grimly. ”Now what's this fellow's name and where does he live?”

After the man had jotted down the information, Frank and Joe drove directly to the Delta Sigma fraternity house. Dawn lay like a pink halo on the eastern horizon, but the Hardys' thoughts were anything but heavenly as they rapped on the fraternity-house door. No one answered. Joe rang the bell while Frank continued banging.

Finally a young fellow in pajamas opened up and yawned in Frank's face. ”Whatever it is, we don't want any,” he said, then started to close the door.

Frank reached for his shoulder and whirled him about. ”This isn't any joke,” he said. ”We're looking for Jack Hale.”

”Oh, the president,” the youth said, stifling another yawn. ”I can't wake him up-he's special.”

”I'll say he is,” Joe declared.

”But you fellows don't understand.” The college boy regarded the Hardys earnestly with his pale-blue eyes. ”We don't wake the fraternity president until eight o'clock. He doesn't have his first cla.s.s until nine.”

”He's going to have a lesson right now,” Frank said sternly. ”Get him up!”

The youth shrugged, and padded off in bare feet to the second floor. Listening below, the boys heard shouts and angry words, preceding the appearance of a thick-set youth several years older than the Hardys. In red-and-white striped pajamas he thumped down the stairs. When he saw Frank and Joe, he stopped with a startled expression.

”Isn't it kind of early-” Jack Hale started to say.

”Not for a punch in the jaw,” Joe declared hotly, and stepped forward with fists c.o.c.ked.

”Wait a minute, Joe,” Frank said. ”Let's get some questions answered before you start swinging.” He walked over to Hale, who backed away nervously. ”I'll put it on the line,” Frank said. ”What's the idea of leaving us on the railroad track? And why did you switch our motel room?”

”Wait a minute, fellows! Hold it!” Hale said. ”We thought you'd guess it was just a little pretesting job.

Anyway, why are you working up such a head of steam-”

”Yes, why?” the blue-eyed youth put in.

Hale continued, ”You two were never in any real danger. We had a lookout posted to keep an eye on you in case you needed help. Say, you are going to be Delta Sigma pledges, aren't you?”

”Of course not,” said Joe, his biceps still flexed.

”So you were hazing us?” asked Frank. ”Who told you to do that?”

Jack Hale looked embarra.s.sed. He cast a fleeting glance up the stairs and seemed relieved when several other Delta Sigma boys moved quietly down behind him.

”I can't tell you who it is,” Hale said.

The blue-eyed youth nodded vigorously. ”We're honor bound not to reveal his ident.i.ty.”

”We thought you were going to be Delta Sigma pledges,” Jack said. ”Honest we did.”

”Well, then you ought to let prospective pledges in on it, too,” Frank said. He turned away. ”Come on, Joe. Let's get out of here. We have work to do.”

Looking somewhat the worse for wear after their strenuous night, the Hardys nonetheless planned another bit of sleuthing before returning to their cottage for sleep.

”Let's examine Todd's room before Quill gets up,” Frank suggested.

Joe readily agreed. ”At six A.M. Quill's probably still asleep.” Joe reached into his pocket. ”I have the key to Todd's apartment.”

The Hardys encountered a few milk-delivery trucks and one newspaper boy as they made their way to Sh.e.l.ly Row. Joe inserted the key quietly and turned it in the lock. The boys entered. Frank pressed his ear against the apartment wall. Silence.

”He's still in the arms of Morpheus,” Frank whispered.

”Okay,” Joe said. ”Let's look around.”

Enough daylight filtered through the two front windows to allow the boys to examine the apartment carefully. While Joe concentrated on objects of furniture, Frank looked through notes and textbooks lying about. But the boys could find no evidence of where Morgan Todd might have gone.

”I guess the police search was pretty thorough, after all,” Joe commented. ”What are you looking at, Frank?”

His brother held one of the mimeographed examination sheets in his hand and was scrutinizing it. Joe watched Frank as he scanned sentence after sentence on the white paper. Then a strange expression came over his face. Joe had seen it before when Frank was on the trail of a clue.

”You found something?” Joe asked excitedly.

”I'll say I have!” Frank declared, sucking in his breath. ”Wow! Look at this!”

CHAPTER V.

Counterattack JOE glanced over his brother's shoulder. ”All I see is an exam paper-the fill-in type.”

”Yes,” Frank replied. ”But there's a clue right under your nose.”

”I don't get it, Frank. You must have super vision.”

”Look. Read this first question, Joe.”

” 'Russia's present political system was founded by--.'”

”I don't care about the answer,” Frank said. ”Now read the second question.”

'”Only--men from California have been named to the Supreme Court.'”

Joe frowned. ”It's still a riddle to me.”

Enjoying the game he was playing, Frank asked, ”How many questions are there?”