picions had been verified. They waited tensely as the conversation went on.
"Why?" asked Red.
"He didn't get it."
"Why didn't he get it?"
The newcomer paused and smiled.
"The reason he didn't get it," he said, slowly and triumphantly, "is because we've got him."
"Got him?"
"We've got Fenton Hardy!"
"How?"
"Where?"
"How do you know?"
Questions were fired at the newcomer from all parts of the cave. He was enjoying the sensation he had caused. As for the hidden listeners, they experienced only a sickening amazement.
"The gang got him in Chicago last night. I just got word this afternoon. He went out there to catch Baldy; but the boys got wind of it and they laid a trap for him. He stepped right into it."
"Good!" exclaimed the red-headed man, rubbing his hands. "What could be sweeter? We've got Hardy and we've got his sons—"
"By the way, how are they acting?" asked the newcomer.
"Oh, still kicking up a fuss—the young
