CHAPTER IV
The Hold-Up
Chief Ezra Collig, of the Bayport police force, was a burly, red-faced individual, much given to telling long-winded stories.
Usually, Collig was to be found reclining in a swivel chair in his office, with his feet on the desk, reading the comic papers or polishing up his numerous badges, but this day something had happened to shake him out of his customary calm.
When the boys went into his office they found the chief painfully writing in a huge notebook and confronted by three excited figures. One of these was Ike Harrity, the old ticket seller at the city steamboat office. The others were Detective Smuff, of the police force, and Policeman Con Riley, both trying their best to look important and composed.
Ike Harrity was frankly frightened. It was plain that something very much out of the ordinary had happened. Harrity was a timid and inoffensive old chap who had perched on a high stool behind the wicket at the steamboat office day in and day out for as many years as any one in Bayport could remember.
"I was just countin' up the mornin's receipts," he was saying, in a frightened and high-pitched voice, "when in comes this fellow and he sticks a revolver in front of my nose—"
"Just a minute," interrupted the chief grandly, as the boys entered. He dipped his pen in the inkwell and poised it in the air, as he peered at the lads over his spectacles.
"What are you boys doing here? Can't you see we're busy?"
"I came to report a theft," said Chet Morton. "My roadster has been stolen."
"Why, it was a roadster this fellow drove up to my office in!" cried Ike Harrity. "A yellow roadster."
"Ha!" said Detective Smuff. "A clue!" He immediately fished a notebook out of his pocket and began rummaging around for a pencil.
"Never mind, Detective Smuff," observed the chief heavily, "I'll take any notes that are needed."
Detective Smuff, duly squelched, put back his notebook in confusion.
"What fellow?" Frank asked. "Who drove up to your office in a yellow roadster?"
"The hold-up man," declared Harrity. "I was held up this morning. A fellow tried to steal the steamboat money on me."
"Now just a minute. Just a minute!" demanded the chief. "Let me say a word here. The situation is this. A man drove up to the steamboat office a little while ago and tried to hold up Mr. Harrity. But a passenger happened to come into the office just then and the fellow got frightened and ran away. Is that right?"
"That's right," said Harrity.
"I'll make a note of it," said the chief, suiting the action to the word. When he had scribbled industriously for some time he raised the pen again and pointed it at Chet.
"Now you," he observed, "say that somebody stole a yellow roadster on you this morning."
"Yes, sir! From our farm. He was seen driving into Bayport just a little while ago."
The chief made a note of it.
"And you," he said, pointing the pen at Ike Harrity, "say the hold-up man drove up to the office in a yellow roadster?"
"That's right, chief. That's right. A yellow roadster, it was. And now that I come to think of it, I've seen Chet Morton's car before and it was the spittin' image of it."
"Then," declared the chief, putting down his pen with the air of one making a momentous discovery, "it looks to me very much as if the hold-up man and the fellow that stole the car is one and the same man."
Detective Smuff wagged his head solemnly in admiration of this feat of deduction. "I believe you're right, chief," he declared.
"Of course he's right," said Frank. "It couldn't be any one else. The point is this—where did the hold-up man go? Did he leave in the car? Did any one follow him?"
"He left in the car all right," said Harrity. "But nobody followed him. I telephoned for the police."
"Did you notice the color of this man's hair?" asked Frank suddenly.
"What's that got to do with it?" asked Detective Smuff.
"Never mind. It may have a great deal to do with it. Did you notice the color of his hair?" repeated Frank, turning to Harrity.
"It was short," said Harrity firmly. "Short and dark."
Frank and Joe looked blankly at one another.
"Are you sure?" asked Joe.
"I'm positive," declared Harrity. "I was face to face with him. He was a dark-haired man, and his hair was cut awful short. I noticed that."
"You're sure he wasn't red-headed?"
"I'm sure of it."
"What's all this about?" asked Chief Collig suspiciously. "What has the color of his hair to do with it?"
"Well," admitted Frank, "we were pretty sure that the man who stole Chet's car had long, red hair."
"Hum!" muttered the chief doubtfully. "Then if that was the case, the man who stole the car and the man who tried to hold up the office isn't one and the same fellow after all."
"I don't know what to make of it," confessed Frank.
Just then a short, nervous little man was ushered into the office. He introduced himself as the passenger who had gone into the steamboat office at the time of the attempted hold-up, and he presented himself in answer to a call from the chief.
In reply to questions, the newcomer, who gave the prosaic name of Henry J. Brown and said he was from New York, told of entering the office and seeing a man run away from the wicket with a revolver in his hand.
"What color was his hair? Did you notice?" asked Frank eagerly.
"I can't say I did," answered the little man. "It all happened so quickly I didn't realize that it was a hold-up until the man was out the door. Then I saw him jump into the roadster and drive away. But—wait a minute. I did notice the color of his hair. Just as the car was disappearing down the street. You couldn't help notice. He was red-headed. He had long red hair."
Detective Smuff looked blankly at the chief and the chief looked blankly at everybody else, particularly at Henry J. Brown of New York.
"I knew it!" declared Joe exultantly. "It's the same man!"
"It can't be the same man!" said the chief wearily. "You boys don't know what you're talking about. Mr. Harrity says he had short, dark hair. Now how could he have short, dark hair and long, red hair at the same time? I ask you that! How could he?"
Chief Collig propounded this query with the expression of one who has triumphantly settled all difficulties.
"He had short, dark hair!" said Harrity doggedly.
"And I'm sure he had long, red hair!" shouted Henry J. Brown, very indignantly. "Do you think I'm blind? Do you think I'd tell a lie about it?"
"He had dark hair."
"It was red."
"It was dark."
"It wasn't."
"It was!"
"Stop it!" commanded Chief Collig. "I don't think either of you know what kind hair he had. Probably he was bald-headed. But I'll send word out to keep a watch for the yellow roadster. I'll notify the police in other towns too. I guess that's all that can be done now."
And with that, the Hardy boys and Chet Morton had to be content.
When they left the office it was with little hope that the thief or the car would be found. Their misgivings were justified. When they returned to see Chief Collig that night they learned that no word had been received concerning the yellow roadster from any of the outlying towns or villages and that despite a diligent search conducted by Detective Smuff and other members of the Bayport force, the roadster had not been located in the city.