CHAPTER IX

THE OLD MAN WITH THE DIMES

groaning, Frank opened his eyes. He sat tip and rubbed his aching head. Then, suddenly remembering what had happened, he clapped his hands to his pockets. The money his mother had given him was gone!

"That's bad," he thought. "But Chet's coins are here," the boy sighed, when he discovered them a moment later. '' Glad the thief missed them."

Groggily, the lad pulled himself to his feet. He examined the tire marks in the dusty road. The masked man had turned his car around and driven back toward the highway.

Frank got into his own automobile and followed. At the concrete the telltale marks were mixed with others, and there was no indication of the direction which the hold-up man had taken.

Without the club money, Frank realized there would be no use in going on to Mawling. Sick at heart over the loss, he returned to Bayport. When Aunt Gertrude saw him coming in the front door, she uttered a cry of amazement.

"Here already! You must have driven a hundred miles an hour. Young man, you'll be arrested for speeding one of these days------"

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64 The Melted Coins

"I know why hie came back," smiled Mrs. Hardy. Then she noticed her son's white face and stricken look. "Why, what's the matter, dear?" she asked anxiously. "You look rick."

"I am sick. I lost the money. Hold-up man forced me off the road and stole every bill.-'

The dejected boy trudged to the telephone and called Bayport Police Headquarters. Dully, he reported the loss.

"That's too bad, Frank," said the desk sergeant. "I'll send out a call on the police radio. Too bad you weren't able to get the fellow's license number. How much money did you lose?"

"Quite a bit-about five hundred dollars, I think. How much was it, Mother?" Prank asked.

'' Not so much as that,'' she said sympathetically. '' In fact, I thought that was why you had returned. After you left, I noticed I had made a mistake and hadn't given you the whole amount. You had only a hundred and fifty with you. The rest is here."

"Well, that's a break, anyway," said Frank, feeling better. "A hundred and fifty in small bills," he told the desk sergeant.

"We'll do the best we can to get it back," promised the officer. "Tell us what you know about the fellow."

The boy told of the strange tattoo mark on the thief's chest-a crude design of a Spanish woman's head.

The Old Man With the Dimes 65

"That's a good clue," the sergeant praised. "Well, we'll do our best."

As Frank turned to his mother and aunt, the latter said:

"I shouldn't be surprised if the thief were the man who robbed this house yesterday. Maybe the same one who was hanging around here in the morning."

"No, this fellow was much bigger and heavier," declared Frank. He glanced at the clock. "Gee, I must have been out cold a long time. It's too late to go to the bank now."

He was glad to get to bed early, and he fell asleep at once. After a good rest he felt quite himself again.

Soon after breakfast the nest morning Joe came in. He had no news to report from the Morton farm, but he whistled when he heard of his brother's mishap.

"You'd better go to the bank with me this morning," Frank grinned. "Guess I need a bodyguard.''

"I'm ready. Gee, I'm glad the fellow didn't take Chet's coins. They can't be replaced. ''

This time, on the drive to Mawling, Frank took no short cuts. He stayed on the main highway the entire distance.

"That was the most expensive short cut I ever took," he told Joe. "Most likely the kold-up wouldn't have happened at all if I'd kept to this road."

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"You're right, it was expensive. One hundred and fifty dollars is a lot of money. Mother can't afford to lose that much. I suppose she'll have to pay It ba k to the club."

'' Since Mother is the treasurer, she probably is insured, but I'm not. I'm the one who's paying it back, because I was responsible," said Frank. "When we get to Mawling, I'll write a check on my own bank account. It's a good thing I have the money."

The brothers had earned substantial sums in the past as rewards for the cases they had succeeded in solving. They had been able to buy motorcycles for themselves, a car, and even their prized motorboat, The Sleuth, which had figured in several mysteries. The rest had gone into the bank. Frank was glad he had the money available now to make up his mother's loss, and was determined to shoulder the responsibility himself.

The boys drove into Mawling, and pulled up in front of the Trust Company. Going inside, they found there was just one customer at the window ahead of them-an old man.

"Wouldn't think there was so much money in all those dimes," he was chuckling, as the cashier handed him several twenty-dollar bills.

"It takes a good while to count such a lot," said the cashier. Before him, in neat paper-rolled stacks, were several hundred dimes. "I don't blame you for wanting to get rid of them."

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"Folding money is easier to carry," cackled the old man. He thrust the bills into a wallet and turned away.

There was something oddly familiar about his voice. When the Hardy boys looked at his face intently, they were sure they recognized him.

He was the man who had tried to buy the counterfeit coins from Aunt Gertrude! But he was not wearing dark glasses. Was he also the person who had visited the coin collectors?

The old fellow was too absorbed in his money to pay the boys any attention. He thrust the wallet into his pocket and shuffled toward the door.

When he had gone outside, Frank stepped up to the window. The teller was busy putting away the stacks of dimes.

''That was a job, I must say," he remarked. "I've been counting ten-cent pieces here for the past quarter-hour. That man seemed to have a ton of them.''

"Where did he get so many dimes?"

"Said he had been in charge of a children's entertainment somewhere," the clerk said. "I suppose the admission price was ten cents."

"Do you know the old man's name?" asked Joe eagerly.

The teller shook his head. "Never saw him before,'' he replied carelessly. '' Now what cao I do for you chaps 1''

Frank deposited the money Mrs. Hardy had

68 The Melted Coins

given him. He also wrote out a check from his own account in a Bayport bank for the amount that had been stolen from him, and deposited that as well.

"It seems strange," Joe said, when the boys had left the bank and were driving toward home, "that every time we come ac,rc~-s that old man, he is in some way connected with coins. I wish we had trailed him."

"If we ever see him again, let's do it."

Aunt Gertrude was much relieved when the boys reached home and reported that the money had been safely banked. She said she had not drawn an easy breath since the boys had left the house.

Late that afternoon they set out on foot for the Morton farm. Chet, to their astonishment, was actually working.

"Thought I might as well do a little more digging to fill in the time," he explained defensively. "Who knows but that another coin may turn up?" He set aside his spade and sat down on the grass. "What's new?"

"Plenty," said Frank.

He told Chet of the hold-up and of their suspicions about the strange old man.

"I knew I should have gone along with you, Joe, instead of staying here all day!" declared the fat boy. "You fellows have all the excitement! Say, did that hold-up man get my coins?"

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"No, thank goodness," replied Frank, and handed over the Pine Tree Shilling and the Hog Coin.

He explained what Wu Sing had told him. Then the conversation turned back to the strange old man.

'' Maybe that Batchy person was the one who was digging here," suggested Chet.

"Too old," said Joe. "He couldn't have run away as fast as that fellow did the other night."

"Then maybe it was the hold-up man who was here," offered Chet.

"Could be," said Frank. "Only if he were interested in old coins, why didn't he take yours when he had the chance?"

"Maybe he didn't find them," said Chet in defense of his own deductions.

The boys went on with their digging. In a little while Chet declared he was so hungry he could not lift a shovel, so the three boys went up to the house. Supper was not ready, but Chet found part of a pie in the ice box, and by eating it, managed to survive until Mrs. Morton had the meal on the table. Again lola wanted to know what the mystery was behind the boys' unusual interest in the ditch-digging job.

"All in good time, young lady. All in good time,'' Chet informed his sister in a lordly manner. "Just be patient and everything will be revealed to you."

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"There certainly must be something behind it," smiled Mrs. Morton. "I'm sure it isn't fondness for work on your part.''

"I'm misjudged and unappreciated," sighed her son. "I work like a dog, digging from morning until night, and this is all the thanks I get."

That evening the boys went back to the field. They made their camp a little more comfortable, and then sat chatting under the trees.

Chet even tried a little more digging. There was a moment of great excitement when his spade struck a hard object, and he shrieked that he had unearthed a chest. It turned out, however, to be nothing more than a large, discarded can of rather recent make. It was empty.

"That's treasure-hunting for you," sighed the stout youth philosophically. "Just one disappointment after another."

Dusk had fallen. The boys were talking over who should stand guard first, when Joe suddenly grabbed Frank's arm and pointed in the direction of the lane.

'' Someone coming,'' he whispered.

Then Frank saw a light-a wavering, bobbing light. It flickered out, then shone again, and moved steadily across the field. Beyond it they could see the vague shape of a shadowy figure.

'' Great Scott!'' squeaked Chet. " He's heading this way!"