A Figure in Hiding by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

position on the edge of the cliff. Another spray of light burst overhead revealing the road and the hillside with daytime brilliance. Three figures could be seen, far down the road past the foot of the drive, sprinting toward a parked car. They leaped in and sped away.
    Sam Radley came running toward the boys. The muscular, sandy-haired detective’s face was taut with worry. “You two all right?” he exclaimed.
    â€œShaken up but okay,” Frank said. “What about that masked guy and his pals? Can we go after them?”
    Sam shook his head “My car’s a quarter of a mile back—I didn’t dare park closer. By the time we could get to it, we wouldn’t stand a chance of catching them. Better call the police!”
    Joe hastily radioed an alarm. Then he hurried to join his brother and Sam who had gone to untie Zatta. The one-eyed peddler was unconscious but bore no visible marks of injury.
    â€œMaybe he fainted,” Frank said.
    â€œIt’s more than that,” Sam murmured. “Looks to me as if he’s been drugged.”
    The operative went off to get his car and brought it to the spot. They lifted Zatta into the back seat, then sped to the Bayport General Hospital.
    While the unconscious man was being examined, the three sat tensely in the waiting room.
    â€œWe really walked into a neat setup,” Frank said. “One of those two guys with the masked man was standing by Zatta with the lantern. The other must have been hiding up on the hill, waiting to sabotage our brakes.”
    â€œRight,” Joe agreed. “That screen of trees gave him perfect cover, once we went off to talk to his partner.”
    While they waited, the boys gave Sam Radley a complete account of the events leading up to the night’s excitement. Sam asked, “Do you have the glass eye with you?”
    â€œRight here.” Frank took the eye out of his pocket and handed it over.
    Radley examined it closely. “Hmm. And you have no idea why Lemuel—or whoever’s behind all this—is so eager to get it back?”
    Frank shook his head thoughtfully. “The thing’s fairly light. It could be hollow. I’ve been wondering if something’s hidden inside.”
    Radley held the glass eye close to his ear and shook it. “Nothing rattles. Of course that doesn’t prove much. It could be wadded in.”
    â€œTrouble is, there’s no way to unscrew the eye or pry it apart,” Joe remarked. “The only chance to find out would be to break the glass.”
    Conversation stopped as a white-coated intern came into the waiting room to report on Zatta’s condition. “He was definitely drugged,” the medic informed Sam and the Hardys. “There’s a puncture mark from a hypodermic needle on his right arm. Otherwise he’s in good shape, so I think we’ll let him sleep it off.”
    Radley agreed to stand guard in Zatta’s room. He told the boys he knew of another operative with whom he could take turns in shifts.
    Frank and Joe left the hospital and found a twenty-four-hour service station open a block away. Luckily it had a tow truck available. The boys rode with the mechanic to Shore Road and had him tow their convertible to his garage. The boys walked home.
    â€œThat’s funny,” Joe muttered as he tried to turn his key in the side door.
    â€œWhat’s funny?” Frank asked.
    â€œThe lock has been jimmied!” he exclaimed.
    The Hardys stared at each other in alarm.
    â€œWhoever did it may still be here!” Frank whispered.
    Joe gave his brother a startled look, then hastily pushed the door open and snapped on the light.
    The boys began a cautious search of the house, switching on the lights in each room as they went along. The first floor was empty. Tensely they mounted the stairs.
    When they came to Aunt Gertrude’s room, Frank gave a gasp. “She’s gone!”
    They dashed to their