Part 1 (1/2)
THE FLICKERING TORCH MYSTERY.
By FRANKLIN W. DIXON.
CHAPTER I.
The Scientist's Request.
When Frank Hardy answered the doorbell that morning, he had no idea that its shrill ringing was a summons to excitement, adventure and peril. The man who stood on the broad veranda of the Hardy home looked mild-mannered enough-a small, elderly person with a clipped white mustache and silver-rimmed spectacles.
'' Is this where Fenton Hardy lives 1'' 1''
”Yes,” said Frank pleasantly. ”My father is busy just now. Does he expect you ?''
”Well, no,” admitted the caller. He added cautiously, ”It's Fenton Hardy, the private detective, I want to see. This is his house?”
”This is the right place. Come in anyway, Mr.-----”
”Grable. My name is Asa Grable,” said the man meekly as he stepped into the hall. ”I know I haven't an appointment and I hesitate 2 to intrude-but perhaps your father can spare me a minute. It's very important.''
Frank showed the caller into the living room, excused himself, and went into the library.
There he found his father packing papers into a brief case. Fenton Hardy, tall and middle-aged but still youthful in appearance, glanced up in surprise when he heard the name of the man in the other room.
”Asa Grable, the scientist?”
”He didn't say. But he seems mighty eager to see you, Dad.''
Fenton Hardy looked at his watch.
”Your mother and I are leaving on a trip,” he said. ”I counted on getting away by ten o'clock. But I'll try to spare a few minutes. Show him in, Son.”
Strange visitors at strange hours were no novelty in the Hardy household. Fenton Hardy, who had earned a brilliant reputation in his younger days as an outstanding detective on the New York police force, now was known the length and breadth of the country as one of the best private detectives in the United States. He was a busy man, for his services were in constant demand. He had established a practice of his own in the city of Bayport, on the coast, where he lived with his wife and his two sons, Frank and Joe.
As the caller went to the library, Frank returned to the kitchen, where he and Joe had been helping their Aunt Gertrude do some bakThe Scientist's Bequest 3 ing. Their only help consisted of sampling batches of cookies as they came from the oven.
”Not one more! Not one!” their relative was saying.
Aunt Gertrude was a maiden lady of uncertain years and unpredictable temper. She had an income and a disposition all her own, and she spent her life visiting relatives far and wide. Her present visit at her brother Fenton's home had just begun.
Aunt Gertrude never would have admitted it, but Frank and Joe were her favorite nephews; she secretly adored them and publicly scolded and corrected them on all possible occasions. As for the Hardy boys, they had long since learned that Aunt Gertrude's peppery manner concealed a great depth of affection.
”These cookies are delicious,” delicious,” said Frank. said Frank.
”Well, then, you may have one more,” grumbled Aunt Gertrude, gratified. She nibbled at a cookie herself, as Frank and Joe reached for the pan. ”I have have baked worse,” she said. baked worse,” she said.
”Impossible, Aunty,” declared Frank.
”What's that?” She glared at the boy over her spectacles. ”It's impossible to bake worse cookies?”
”Oh, no, Aunt Gertrude,” gulped Frank, floundering. ”I mean-I never tasted worse cookies-I mean you you couldn't bake worse ones------” couldn't bake worse ones------”
”What?”
”I mean they're the best I ever tasted.”
4 Aunt Gertrude gave him a stern look, full of suspicion.
”Then why don't you say what you mean? Who was that at the door?”
Aunt Gertrude had a disconcerting way of always jumping from one train of thought to another.
”It was a Mr. Grable. Asa Grable. I think he's a scientist.”
”Asa Grable, the bug man?”
”I don't know. Dad seemed to recognize his name.''
”It's the bug man, I'll be bound,” declared Aunt Gertrude.
”You mean he catches bugs?” asked Joe. ”What kind of bugs?”
”How should I know? All I know about Asa Grable is that he has something to do with bugs.” Aunt Gertrude turned sharply on Frank. ”He didn't bring any with him, did he?” she demanded.
”I didn't see any,” laughed Frank.
Aunt Gertrude sighed with relief. ”I hate the nasty things. Scientist or no scientist, I '11 chase him out of the house if he brings any of his bugs here.''
The boys heard their father calling them from the library. They found Asa Grable and Fenton Hardy engaged in an earnest discussion.
”-I know they're a little young, but I think you'll find they can handle it for you, Mr. Grable, ''
their father was saying. '' It won't be the 5 first time my sons have taken over one of my cases. And solved it, too!''
'' I was hoping you would be able to undertake the case yourself,” said Grable in a disappointed voice. ” It's very important to me.''
Fenton Hardy turned to his boys.
”I'd like you to meet Mr. Asa Grable, the well-known entomologist. He has come to me with a problem. As you know, I'm already working on a very important case, and I have to leave Bayport right away. I've told Mr. Grable about the success you two have had in solving mysteries, and I'm trying to persuade him to let you take over this one for me.”
The caller blinked doubtfully. He could not be blamed for hesitating to entrust his problem to a couple of boys.
This att.i.tude was nothing new to Frank and Joe Hardy. Though they had inherited a good deal of their father's deductive ability and had solved many mysteries, it was difficult to convince strangers that these two lads, still of high school age, were thoroughly competent in detective work.
”I daresay the boys are very clever,” said Asa Grable, ”but this is important to me, and after all-----”
”They're not amateurs,” intervened Fenton Hardy. ”I give you my word that they've had more training and experience than I had at their age. If the case is still unsolved when I come back from my trip, I'll take over.”