The Mystery of Cabin Island by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

where’s Dad?”
    â€œOut of town. But he left a message. It’s in a sealed envelope on his desk.”
    Frank and Joe hastened to their father’s study, found the envelope addressed to them, and tore it open. Inside was a terse note telling his sons that fingerprints found by the police in Mr. Jefferson’s ransacked house were those of Hanleigh. They had been identified by the FBI in Washington, where the federal agency had a record of interstate frauds involving Hanleigh several years before. The local police were looking for him.
    â€œAha! A con man. We might have known,” mumbled Joe.
    The message went on to warn the boys again to be cautious and ended, “Just as in fishing through the ice, you have to be patient. I’m confident that you’ll land this big one.”
    Frank and Joe were more excited about the case than ever. With a quick “good-by” to their mother and Aunt Gertrude, they hastened into their car and drove directly to Mr. Jefferson’s place.
    â€œFrank and Joe!” the elderly gentleman exclaimed when he answered the doorbell. “Nice to see you! Let me take your jackets—my housekeeper is still away. Come right in. I hope you are enjoying your trip.”
    â€œWe’re having a fine vacation,” said Frank as they took seats. “We wanted to ask you about a few things.” Frank handed over the snapshot. “Have you ever seen this fellow?”
    Mr. Jefferson stared at it in perplexity. “What in the world!” he exclaimed. “I’ve never seen any such individual! Did you take this photograph on Cabin Island?”
    â€œYes, sir,” Joe replied, and explained about the camera with the telescopic lens. The Hardys also told how they had observed Hanleigh examining the fireplace, and of overhearing Ike and Tad’s conversation in the boathouse.
    â€œThe police informed me it was he who broke into my house,” Mr. Jefferson said indignantly. “The rascal! He should be punished.”
    The boys promised to do their utmost to apprehend him, and Frank told Mr. Jefferson of finding the carved iceboat.
    Their host’s voice trembled with excitement. “Johnny used to make iceboat models!” he exclaimed.
    â€œOh, oh!” Joe said s eepishly. “Frank, I forgot to bring the model. It’s still on the mantel.”
    â€œI must see it,” Mr. Jefferson said.
    â€œCan you come to the island with us?” Frank asked.
    â€œBy all means!”
    The three set off in the convertible for the boathouse. When he saw the Sea Gull, Mr. Jefferson looked apprehensive. “I’ve never been in one of these contraptions. I understand they move rather swiftly.”
    â€œWe’ll put a rope seat belt on you and we’ll be careful,” Joe assured him. He gave the elderly gentleman a spare helmet and goggles from the boathouse, then helped him aboard.
    After a few moments of uneasiness at the speed of the Sea Gull and the nearness of the ice which flew beneath them, Mr. Jefferson appeared to relax and enjoy his ride. By the time they swept up to Cabin Island he was almost enthusiastic. “I never made better time in a motorboat!” He laughed.
    When the three entered the cabin, Frank introduced Chet and Biff. Mr. Jefferson took a long, slow look around the room, then spotted the carved iceboat on the mantel. At once he hurried over to see it.
    â€œJohnny made this!” he said with certainty, lifting the boat and running his fingers over its polished surface. “I’m convinced he did this carving recently. It’s by far his finest.”
    â€œDid Johnny teach himself woodworking?” Chet asked in admiration.
    â€œYes,” Mr. Jefferson replied proudly. “The boy became intrigued with iceboats when he was very small. He used to spend hours watching them on the bay, and frequently went to the local boat shop to see how the iceboats were made. Johnny would