The Melted Coins by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

yawning. “Well, you’d better get back to sleep, Doctor. We’ll take care of things.”
    Rideau padded up the stairs and the Hardys turned off the light.
    â€œWow!” Joe said. “Guess I might as well stand watch now. I’m wide awake again.”
    Frank laid down and closed his eyes, but only for a few moments. From the floor above came a bloodcurdling cry!

CHAPTER XII
    Trustworthy Men
    FOR the second time that night the Hardys were jolted into action.
    â€œIt sounds as if someone’s being murdered!” exclaimed Joe as he and Frank took the steps two at a time. When they opened the kitchen door, they heard Mrs. Rideau moaning, “Oh, my poor babies!”
    Frank and Joe burst into the living room to see the elderly couple in their bathrobes, kneeling beside the two dogs. Tay and Boots lay on their sides, tongues lolling, and their chests heaving with short rasping breaths.
    â€œWhat happened?” Frank asked. “What’s the matter with the dogs?”
    Mrs. Rideau said that after her husband had gone to the basement, Tay and Boots had become restless. “I thought perhaps somebody might be prowling around outside,” she said, “so I let them out for a few minutes. When they came back, they acted strangely.”
    â€œDo you suppose they ate anything while they were out?” asked Joe.
    The Rideaus doubted this. “They’ve been trained not to take anything unless we give it to them,” the doctor explained.
    â€œWell, they’re sick, that’s for sure,” Frank said. “Have you called the vet?”
    â€œNot yet,” replied Dr. Rideau. “There’s the number on a list beside the phone.”
    While the doctor comforted his wife, Frank quickly called the veterinarian.
    â€œI’m sorry to bother you this late at night,” he said, “but the Rideaus’ two dogs are in bad trouble.” Frank listened, then he went on, “Yes, we’ll bring them over right away.”
    Dr. Rideau dressed hurriedly and backed the car to the front of the house. Frank and Joe, straining under the weight of the immense beasts, carried the limp forms to the waiting automobile.
    â€œJoe,” Frank said, “you stay with Mrs. Rideau. I’ll go along. I don’t want to leave this place unguarded.”
    By the time they reached the veterinarian’s office, his lights were on. Seeing the car, he hastened outside and helped Frank with the animals, who were now rasping at an even greater rate.
    â€œPoison,” the vet muttered. He put Tay on the table and quickly injected an antidote, and a heart stimulant. Then he did the same for Boots.
    â€œI’ll be frank with you,” he said to Dr. Rideau. “I don’t know if we can save them. But I certainly will give it a good try.”
    Then he asked questions about the dogs’ activities. “You’re sure they ate no poisoned food?”
    â€œI’m certain of that.”
    The vet examined every inch of Tay’s body. Near the dog’s rump his finger touched something sharp. He looked at it closely and pulled out a tiny needle.
    â€œHere’s your answer,” he said. “He’s been shot by a poison dart!”
    Dr. Rideau shook his fist. “Those murdering Indians!” he muttered. “They were prowling around and shot my dogs!”
    â€œWe can’t be sure they did it,” Frank said quietly.
    The vet also recovered a miniature missile from Boot’s back. Both dogs seemed to be breathing easier now as the medication took effect.
    With Frank’s help, the vet placed the animals in spotless compartments in a room adjoining his office. Then he went to the phone and reported the incident to the police.
    By the time Dr. Rideau and Frank returned to the house, a police car was in front and two officers with powerful flashlights were searching the property. Frank and Joe joined them, but after twenty minutes