ankles.
âReady!â he called.
Frank loosened his foothold but held fast to the spindles as Joe gave a mighty swing, carrying both boys into the air. Joe, finding he could reach the next balcony, hooked his knees over its railing, let go his grip on Frank, and pulled himself up. But just as he stepped to safety, a fresh gust of wind whirled the white paper upward and away.
The paper sailed farther and farther. Finally it disappeared around the corner of the house.
Now, trying the french windows on his own balcony, Joe found them locked securely. The boys groaned and Frank said, âThis would have been a swell time to follow the fellow in the raincoat.â
âIâll bet he locked us in,â Joe reasoned. âHe left the secret door through the closet open and the light on in the study, to trap us.â
Frank had another theory. âMaybe it wasnât Rand whose steps we heard. Someone else couldâve set the trap. The professor mightâve been here the whole time and never realized what was going on.â
Suddenly, between rushes of wind, a faint whistling came to the boysâ ears from the grounds.
Who could that be? the Hardys wondered.
Again the whistling came. Then a white-shirted figure crept cautiously out in front of the house.
âChet!â called Frank with relief.
âHere I am,â came the reply. âGot tired of waiting in that old passage. What are you two doing up there, anyhow?â
âWeâre locked out,â Joe told him. âSee if you can get into the house and free us.â
The stout boy marched up to the front door, and tried it. âLocked,â he muttered. Almost automatically he stooped and looked under the mat. âYes. Here we areâa key.â
Inserting it in the lock, Chet opened the heavy door and vanished inside. In two minutes he freed Joe, then Frank. âThat was easy,â he said. âWhere do we go now?â
âBack outside,â Frank answered. âWe have a flying clue to bring down!â
After bolting the room door, the three raced downstairs, locked the front door, replaced the key, and ran around the house. By now the dusk had deepened.
âNo flashlights,â said Frank. âWeâll have a better chance to see the paper against a dark background.â
Frank turned his gaze upward. âThere it is!â he announced.
High in the wisteria covering the wide chimney, fluttered the white square of paper.
âOh-h,â moaned Chet. âThree of us standing on each otherâs shoulders couldnât reach that high.â
âNo, but if the top man had a stick, he might,â Frank pointed out.
While Chet and Frank kept watch on the unpredictable paper, Joe found a fallen branch.
âYouâre elected anchor man, Chet,â Joe said, returning. Frank hauled himself up to stand on the stout boyâs shoulders. Then Joe hoisted himself up onto his brotherâs. He clutched the wisteria vine for balance and began to fish upward with the stick.
âCanât ... reach it.â Joe grunted, extending to his utmost length.
âYouâre stepping on my ear,â warned Frank.
In desperation, Joe took aim and flung his branch upward. With a rustling of leaves, the paper came free. The human ladder collapsed, the Hardys breaking their fall by somersaulting. The trio dashed after the white square, which now sailed toward the back of the house.
Here the wind was not so strong. The paper lost altitude, and Joe, rushing up with a cry of triumph, made a neat two-handed catch.
While Chet held his flashlight, the Hardys examined their find. Two sheets of white paper were stapled together. The one on top appeared to be a carefully hand-drawn map.
âItâs the Rand property,â said Frank. âHereâs the house, with the pond and swamp behind. But whatâs this encircled area?â Squinting closer, he read the small printed words which
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley