CHAPTER VIII

The Curious Symbol

joe hardy dived into the water. He went straight to the bottom. Then, hoping against hope, the worried boy looked around for his brother.

Where was Frank?

Swimming under water until he thought his lungs would burst, Joe finally had to come to the surface. He looked around. Still he did not see Frank. Sick at heart, he climbed into the Sleuth and again gazed about him.

Suddenly his pulses quickened. Weren't those two arms he saw at a distance, alternately cleaving the water? As the swimmer drew closer, Joe could see his head. Frank! Panting, the older boy grabbed at the side of the boat.

"Gee, I'm glad you're okay," said Joe. "You gave me an awful scare. I went down to look for you. Where've you been?"

"I-saw-a-whale!" Frank gasped.

"A whale? Never heard of them in Barmet Bay," Joe said, astounded. Then, after helping Frank

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aboard, he added with a grin, "Did he swallow you? You stayed away long enough!"

"Don't-blame-you-for thinking so," Frank replied.

He went on to say that he had noticed the whale, or perhaps a submarine, making great speed through the water some distance away.

"What were you doing so far from here?" Joe asked.

"The dory below us isn't Chet's," his brother told him. "So I swam around trying to find it. Guess I came up for air when you dived for me. I went farther than I realized. Sorry I worried you."

"Forget it. Did you see the Bloodhound?"

"No, but I'm sure it's somewhere near here."

Joe started the engine of the Sleuth. Frank gazed down through the water as they made way slowly. No sunken boat was visible.

"Guess we'll have to give it up," he sighed. "Well, no one can say we didn't try. I sure wish I hadn't lost Mr. Mead's key. If he should-hey, hold it, Joe!"

"See something?" Joe cut the motor.

Both boys leaned over the side of the Sleuth. Below them, on the bottom of Barmet Bay, lay a dory. It was impossible from the surface to identify it as Chet's, but hopefully Frank dived into the water. Half a minute later he reappeared, reporting that it was indeed the Bloodhound, but that he had not found the lost key.

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"I'll take a try," Joe offered.

He had no better luck. After talking the matter over, the brothers concluded that they would never find the key in this hit-and-miss manner, so they proceeded to map out a scheme for the search. It was decided that Frank would hunt around the fore part of the sunken dory, while Joe would take the aft section.

"Then we'll try midships and the engine," the older youth suggested.

The brothers took turns. Their first endeavors brought no results, and Frank's attempt at the middle part of the Bloodhound did not yield the key, either. The boys knew that if it had fallen into the sand there would be no chance of finding it. The area around the engine was their last hope. Joe shot down through the water and grasped the flywheel of the dory's motor. Feeling around quickly with his free hand, he came upon something wedged tightly between the engine and a crossbeam. Pulling it out, he swam quickly to the surface.

"You found it!" Frank yelled excitedly.

It was the missing key, indeed. Joe was all for going at once to the Mead house to try it, but his brother reminded him they had promised their father they would not enter the place without a police escort.

Joe was impatient, but agreed with Frank. He suggested they hurry back at once for their clothes, find their father and see if he would change his mind*

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Frank, however, continued to gaze down through the water.

"I think I'll dive in once more," he said. "I'm sure the fellow who took Chet's good money for that old tub down there isn't going to show up with the owner's papers. Maybe we can find some identification on the boat."

"Good idea," Joe admitted. "You swim along one side, and I'll take the other. Suppose I go first."

Joe found nothing, so Frank went over. A few seconds later he came to the surface, his eyes shining.

"A mark is carved on the gunwale," he said excitedly. "It looks exactly like that strange open-faced Y we saw on John Mead's ring!"

"Honest?" Joe yelled. He was over the side in a flash to look at the crudely carved mark himself. He came up, climbed into the Sleuth, and started the motor, saying they must do something about this clue at once.

"But what?" Frank asked. "From Chet's description I'm sure the man who sold him the boat isn't the same person we met on the road. Remember, Chet said he was a stocky man of thirty who didn't smile. That doesn't fit John Mead."

Joe had to admit this was true. But the boy longed for action of some kind, and sent the Sleuth skimming across the water at a fast clip. Reaching the boathouse, he scrambled into his clothes, urged Frank to hurry, and then drove home at once. He immediately went to the telephone and called Chet

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Morton to ask him if he had heard from the former owner of the Bloodhound. The stout boy ruefully admitted that he had not.

"I'm afraid I got gypped," Chet said sadly. "So you fellows will have to keep on looking for him."

"We?" Joe exploded. "What's the matter with you?"

"Well, what's the use of having friends if you can't call on 'em for help once in a while?" Chet asked.

"Okay," Joe laughed. "I just wanted to be sure you still needed us. We picked up a clue for you."

"You did?"

Joe told about the odd mark on the dory, and the fact it seemed to be the same as the Y on John Mead's ring. Chet was amazed, but could not figure any connection. He confirmed the fact the fellow who had sold him the old dory and John Mead could not be the same person.

"But maybe they both belong to the same secret society, and the funny Y is their insignia," Chet suggested.

"Maybe," agreed Joe soberly.

He had hardly hung up the telephone when it started to ring. It was a long-distance call from Mr. Hardy. The detective said he would not be hom<t that night; he was following a new lead on the museum robberies.

"How are you boys making out?" he asked.

Joe related the day's events, admitting that, up to the moment, the clues they had run down had

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brought no results. His father took a different view, however, saying the elimination of false clues was a battle half won.

"Don't be discouraged, son," he advised. "And ask Chief Collig for permission to go into the Mead house alone if he can't send a man with you. I venture to say if you keep trying you'll find a keyhole somewhere. And now put your mother on the wire."

The boys waited until Mrs. Hardy had finished speaking, then told her where they were going. She asked her sons to be home by dinnertime.

"We'll be back by then," the brothers promised.

They went off in their roadster, drawing up in front of Police Headquarters several minutes later. Chief Collig, just coming out, walked up to them and started speaking at once.

"No, there haven't been any new crimes reported," he said briskly. The Hardys thought they detected a note of sarcasm in his voice. "Not a thing. No more doctors kidnaped, no hardware thieves caught."

"Oh!" said both boys. Then Frank grinned and added, "We've come to ask you a favor."

Collig was supicious, but he relaxed when they told him of their desire to visit the Mead premises. The Chief said he could not spare any men to accompany them, but that it would be all right for the boys to go alone.

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"But how are you goin' to get in?" he asked. "Riley said there weren't any keyholes at the house. Queer place, I'd say."

Without mentioning that the key to the house had been lost and then recovered, Joe said they had found the answer to Collig's question at the bottom of Barmet Bay. The Chief looked at them hard. Then, muttering something about kids these days being awfully flip in their remarks, he went off.

"Now that we're on our own, let's hurry," Joe urged Frank, who was at the wheel.

Though the Mead mansion was not many miles from the center of Bayport, it seemed to the eager boys to be a long way off. They made the distance in good time, however, and pulled into the driveway. The grounds appeared to be deserted.

"Suppose we take different doors to work on," Joe Suggested. He happened to be carrying the key. "I'll go around to the bay side. You take the front door."

Joe hurried to the ornate door which faced the water, and surveyed its uniquely carved design critically. He felt sure that a keyhole was hidden somewhere in the carving. The Hardy boy began to inspect it closely.

He started at the right-hand side of the door, pushing at each ridge of the symmetrical design. His search yielded nothing. He tried the opposite side of the door, still without success.

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"Guess I'll start at the very top and work down," Joe concluded. "This door just has to have a keyhole."

For half an hour he pushed and pulled, growing more puzzled each minute. Finally he tried combinations with both hands on sections of the raised design. Suddenly his efforts were rewarded. Two pieces of molding shifted. One of them revealed a keyhole!

Excitedly Joe tried to insert the key. His face clouded; it did not fit. The disappointment he felt lasted only a moment, however. Certain now that the other doors had keyholes in them, he raced toward the front of the house and broke his news to Frank.

The older boy, who had found nothing yet, became hopeful. Feverishly he once more went over the intricate design of the front door. The upper and lower halves of this door were outlined with a wide border, each of them containing an inset. At first glance the upper inset looked like a huge turtle. Joe, standing at a little distance, suddenly had an idea.

"Say, Frank, that turtle's appendages are almost like the strange Y we've been seeing so often lately!" he cried out.

Frank stepped back a few yards. "You're right," he said excitedly. "The two front feet and the right hind one do form sort of a Y. Wonder if there's any significance to it."

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As Frank started his investigation again, he accidentally pressed the palm of his left hand against the arched back of the turtle. Suddenly the reptile's right hind foot moved to the side, revealing a large keyhole.

"Look!" Frank yelled. He took the key from Joe and inserted it into the keyhole. "It fits!" he cried a moment later.

Holding his breath, he turned the key. A clicking sound! Since there was no knob, Frank used the key to pull the heavy door toward him. It swung outward on hidden, noiseless hinges.

The two Hardy boys stepped over the threshold of the Mead mansion!