A Figure in Hiding by Franklin W. Dixon

likely. I’ll check on him, though, with Ocean City police.”
    Frank and Joe had a postponed picnic supper with Iola and Callie and it was close to midnight when they reached home. The hall telephone was ringing. Frank answered it as Joe waited.
    â€œYou’re one of the Hardys?” a muffled voice asked.
    â€œYes—Frank Hardy. Who’s speaking, please?”
    â€œNever mind that. You know a peddler named Zatta? He’s a stoolie for your father.”
    Frank was instantly alert. He signaled Joe to listen in. “What about Zatta?”
    â€œI’m offering you Hardys a chance to save his life— if you promise not to call in the cops.”
    â€œWhat do you mean ‘save his life’?” Frank said.
    There was moment’s silence. Then another voice, which Frank recognized as the one-eyed peddler’s, came on the line.
    â€œThese guys are holding me prisoner!” Zatta croaked fearfully. “You’ve gotta help me! They’ll kill me if you don’t! Do what they ask you—please!”
    Zatta’s voice was choked off suddenly, as if he has been yanked away from the phone. The muffled voice returned. “Okay. You heard him. We’re offering you his life for that glass eye.”
    Frank tried to stall for time, but the voice cut him short. “Yes or no? Is it a deal?”
    â€œWhat are the terms?” Frank asked.
    The voice instructed the Hardys to drive to a certain spot atop Lookout Hill, leave their car, and walk down to a meeting spot on the open hillside. The transfer would then be arranged.
    Frank looked at his brother. Joe nodded. “Okay, we accept,” Frank said.
    â€œRemember—no double cross! You bring in the cops and Zatta’s a dead pigeon! Be there in fifteen minutes—after that, it’ll be too late.”
    Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude had awakened and asked what the message was. After a family conference it was decided that the boys would call Sam Radley, a trusted operative of their father’s. He agreed to approach the hillside cautiously from the opposite direction and be ready to cover them in case of trouble.
    Frank went upstairs for the glass eye, then the brothers hurried outside to their convertible and drove to Lookout Hill. They parked at the appointed spot near a narrow turnoff which led steeply downward to Shore Road, bordering Barmet Bay.
    Frank and Joe left the car and made their way cautiously through a screen of trees. A dark figure on the hillside waved his arms. Hearts thumping, the Hardys walked toward him.
    The figure had glowing eyes!

CHAPTER XII
    Doom Ride!
    Â 
    Â 
    Â 
    Â 
    As THE Hardys came close enough to make out the figure, they saw the reason for the glowing eyes. The man was wearing spectacles with bulging phosphorescent eyeballs. His head was shrouded in a stocking mask.
    â€œSomeone from the Goggler gang!” Joe hissed.
    In the midnight silence the boys’ footsteps crunched loudly in the grassy underbrush. Far below them, moonlight glinted on the waters of the bay.
    â€œOkay. Stop right there!” the man ordered.
    Frank and Joe obeyed. Both thought the masked man’s voice sounded faintly familiar. They wondered if he might be Spotty Lemuel, but neither could be sure.
    â€œDid you bring the glass eye?”
    â€œWe brought it,” Frank said, “but we’re not handing it over till we have Zatta.”
    The man turned and shone a flashlight down the hillside. He flicked the beam on and off twice.
    The Hardys watched tensely. They saw an answering glow from Shore Road.
    The masked man removed a pair of binoculars which were slung around his neck. He handed them to Frank and pointed toward the light. Frank raised the glasses to his eyes, then gasped.
    â€œWhat is it?” Joe whispered.
    â€œZatta! They have him tied up down there at the foot of the drive!”
    Frank passed the binoculars to Joe, who peered through them. The light on