CHAPTER XX

The Sniper

don't put me in jail!" Chet pleaded. He visualized himself spending the rest of his life behind bars. "Please, chief, if you put me in jail, I won't be able to get a picture of Dr. Bush." The words slipped out before the boy thought.

The magistrate raised his eyebrows and the policemen exchanged questioning glances.

"Who's he?" the chief asked.

"The one I got half a picture of in Bayport. He's a thief."

The chief leaned far over the bench. "If there are any pictures of criminals to be taken, you'd better leave it to the police. Furthermore, since you're a stranger in town, I take it you're one of General Smith's guests. I'm going to let you go.

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But only on one condition-that you don't buy any more atom crackers while you're in Centerville!"

"Yes, sir!" Chet sighed in relief.

"And now tell me," the chief said, "what's this about a Dr. Bush being a thief?"

Chet did not know what to say. He was sure he already had told more than the Hardys would have wanted him to. As the youth hesitated to reply, the officer electrified him by saying:

"Some woman called here only yesterday and warned us to pick up a Dr. Bush if he came around. She didn't leave her name."

Chet told the chief a similar request had come to the Hardys in Bayport. The boys had no proof the doctor was around Centerville but suspected he might be. The officer said the police had checked everyone named Bush in the area, and all had good reputations. The wanted Dr. Bush must come from another place.

"We're looking for him," the chief said. "You boys keep your eyes open too."

"We sure will," Chet promised as he left.

Chet had hardly reached the sidewalk when he came face to face with the Hardys who were out of breath from running.

"You all right, Chet?" Frank panted. "We heard a bombardment. What happened? Who started it?"

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"I did!"

"What?"

diet told about the atom crackers. "It nearly gcs. me in jail, but it was good it did. Listen, fel-lo'.vs, that woman your Aunt Gertrude doesn't like called the police here about Doc Bush!"

Frank and Joe finally got the story straight. There was no doubt now Dr. Bush was in the neighborhood. And who was the woman? The boys decided to discuss the matter at the house. Before going, Joe said:

"I want to get some of those atom crackers."

"Better not shoot 'em off in town before the Fourth," Chet warned. "The cops don't like it!" Then he added, "I got my pictures."

"Let's see them," Frank said as Chet pulled the packet from his pocket, and held them to view under a street light.

Of the eight snaps the boy had taken, only four were clear enough to print. One showed the old museum, another the ruins of the plantation, and the third a hawk which Chet had snapped in midair.

"What's this funny-looking thing?" Joe asked as he examined the fourth print.

"Gee, I don't know." Chet scratched his head.

"It's upside down," Frank remarked.

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"Now I see it!" Chet bubbled. "I must have iaken this when I backed into the wellhole. Look, there's the guy who was spying on me!" He pointed to a thick mass of foliage.

"You're right," Frank agreed. "There are a man's back and shoulders, and part of his legs."

"Another half-man," Chet moaned.

"Say!" Joe's eyes lit up. "I wonder if this i» the same man we got a picture of in Bayport?"

"We'll find out," Chet said, pulling the duplicate of the stolen print from his pocket.

"The legs seem to match," Joe observed. "Now we know he has long legs and high, square shoulders."

"If I'd only got his face!" Chet groaned.

"Don't worry," Frank said encouragingly. "We have two strikes on Bush now. Next time you'll get his face."

As Chet put all his pictures into the envelope, Joe went across the street to buy some atom crackers. He returned in a few minutes with a bagful.

"Let me see "em," Chet begged.

"No siree," Joe said, shoving the bag into his pocket.

Upon reaching the house, Chet related his experience in town to the general. The officer laughed heartily at the story of the atom crackers but frowned

162 The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

upon hearing that Bush definitely was around.

"Our enemies are closing in on us," he remarked. "We must be alert for an attack."

The words were hardly out of his mouth when Claude burst excitedly into the house. He had gone over to his own home after dinner. A caller there had mentioned that a farmer friend of his had two boarders, one of them named Dr. Bush.

"We'll go right out there," Frank said. "Come along, fellows!"

"Carry on all your maneuvering from the rear," General Smith ordered as they rushed out. He could not accompany the boys because he was waiting for a telephone call from Washington.

The boys' enthusiasm lasted exactly fifteen minutes-the length of time it took to reach the farmhouse and meet the boarders. Dr. Bush was found to be quite lame, and admitted he had taken the title of doctor while selling patent medicines at county fairs. A disgruntled customer had thrown the "doctor" off his barker's stand and injured him. The other boarder was a mild-mannered farm hand.

Disappointed that their trip had been fruitless, the boys drove toward Centerville. Frank was at the wheel. For some strange reason he decided to take the longer route which passed the old Beaure-gard Smith plantation. Soon they were approach-

The Sniper 163

ing the overgrown lane which led into the property.

"Now I can get a good night's sleep," diet yawned. "No more sleuthing until tomorrow."

"Don't be too sure," Frank said, slowing down. "I saw a light flash in there! Let's see what's going on."

As he pulled to the side of the road, Chet grunted and announced he would guard the car while the Hardys went to investigate.

"Sure, and fall asleep and be kidnaped." Joe said. "You'd better come along."

Chet reluctantly agreed and brought up the rear as the boys, unlighted flashlights in hand, walked silently and cautiously toward the spot where Frank had seen the light. The clear, star-studded sky made it easy for the boys to find their way. When they reached the front of the ruined mansion, Chet flopped down on a granite steppingstone. No light was visible, but there were muffled sounds.

"Somebody's digging!" Joe whispered. "Let's get 'em!"

"We'd better wait here awhile," Frank advised. "Nobody can see us, and we may be able to pick up some useful information."

The boys strained their ears. A thud sounded emptily in the distance. Then another.

Suddenly Chet. sneezed. The thuds stopped.

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"Quick! Move to another place!" Frank ordered. "They've spotted us!"

As he grabbed Chet by the arm and pulled him from his perch on the steppingstone, a flash winked in the distance and the eerie whine of a ricocheting bullet shattered the stillness.

"I'm shot!" Chet cried out.

Apprehension gripped the boys. Had their friend been badly wounded? Forgetting all other problems, they carried Chet to a safe distance and laid him on the ground. Frank, using his body to shield the beam of the flashlight, bent low to examine the wound. A splinter of stone protruded from the boy's leg.

"Thank goodness it's no worse," he said hoarsely. "A piece of the steppingstone hit you, Chet, not the bullet. I'm going to pull it out."

Chet gritted his teeth as Frank pressed the wound on both sides until the blood oozed out, then bandaged it with a clean handkerchief.

In the meantime, Joe had put his ear to the ground. Receding footsteps told him there were at least two enemies. Then dull thuds made it evident they had gone back to their work. When Chet had been taken care of, Joe said to Frank:

"Come on! Let's find that guy who shot him!"

"Right! Stay here till we get back, Chet."

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"But they're armed!" Chet argued. "You haven't got a chance against them!"

"We'll be careful," Frank promised, "but we must find out what they're doing."

With that, the brothers slipped into the darkness, taking a circuitous route toward the spot from which the rifle flash had come.