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guess,” said Frank in disappointment, as Mr. Hardy brought the sedan to a stop.
    â€œThey had too much of a head start,” Joe remarked. “If only we’d gotten to the farm sooner. Well, we may as well go back.”
    Mr. Hardy agreed, turned the car around, and once more the Hardys headed for the farm. On the way they discussed the mysterious kidnaping, and speculated on the identity of those responsible.
    â€œI’ll bet those men in the other motorboat saw us rescue Jones, or else they heard somehow that he’d been taken to the farmhouse,” Joe surmised.
    â€œIf they are the kidnapers, I wonder what will happen to Jones now,” Frank said gravely. “They tried to kill him once.”
    â€œMaybe they’ll just hold him prisoner,” Mr. Hardy stated thoughtfully. “They were probably afraid he’d tell all he knew, and couldn’t afford to leave him at the farmhouse.”
    When they got back to the Kanes’, they found the farmer and his wife somewhat recovered from their harrowing experience. Mrs. Kane was busy straightening up the kitchen.
    â€œWe couldn’t catch them,” Frank reported sadly.
    â€œWell, those hoodlums had a high-powered car and they weren’t wastin’ any time. I could see ’em from the window as they went down the lane,” the farmer remarked, frowning angrily at the recollection.
    â€œPlease tell us exactly what happened, Mr. Kane,” Joe urged.
    â€œWell, Mabel and I were here in the kitchen,” the man began. “Mabel was washin’ the supper dishes when this fellow came to the door. He was a tall chap with a long, thin face.”
    â€œHe asked us if we were looking after the man that was almost drowned earlier,” the farmer’s wife took up the tale. “When we said we were, the fellow told us that Mr. Jones was his brother and he had come to take him away.”
    â€œI got suspicious,” Mr. Kane broke in. “He didn’t look nothin’ like Jones. I asked him where he lived.”
    â€œAt that,” Mrs. Kane said, “he walked in the house with another fellow right at his heels. They grabbed my husband. Henry put up an awful good fight but he was outnumbered. When I tried to help, a third man appeared from nowhere and held me back.”
    â€œThey dragged us into the livin’ room, tied us to those chairs, and put the gags in our mouths,” the farmer continued. “Then we heard ’em goin’ into Jones’s room. Pretty soon they carried him out to a car where a fourth fellow was sittin’ at the wheel.”
    â€œDid Jones put up a fight when they took him away?” Frank asked.
    â€œHe tried to. He hollered for help, but of course I couldn’t do anythin’ and he was too weak to struggle much.”
    â€œThis whole affair is very peculiar,” Mr. Hardy observed. “Perhaps Jones is mixed up in the smuggling going on around here. But who were those four men, I wonder?”
    Mrs. Kane shook her head. “All I know is, we’re sure glad you and your sons came out tonight. There’s no telling how long we’d have been tied up before somebody found us!”
    â€œWe’re glad, too, that we got here,” Frank replied.
    â€œYou folks say your name’s Hardy?” said the farmer. “Any relation to Fenton Hardy?”
    â€œRight here.” The detective smiled.
    â€œPleasure to know you!” exclaimed Kane heartily, putting out his hand. “If anyone can get to the bottom of this business, you can.”
    â€œI’ll certainly try,” the boys’ father promised.
    The Hardys bade the farmer and his wife good-by. They promised to call again at the Kane farm as soon as they had any further information, and Mr. Kane, in turn, said he would notify them if he found any trace of Jones or his kidnapers.
    When they returned home the boys followed their father into his study.
    â€œWhat