Mr. Hardy had already picked up the flat sack. He looked almost as disappointed as Mr. Apple-gate. “Flower catalogs!” he exclaimed. “They seem to be in various foreign languages.”
“Oh, Robinson was always sending for things from all over the world,” the Tower Mansion owner remarked. “I told him to destroy them. He paid too much attention to that stuff when he might have been doing something useful. I suppose he buried the catalogs, so I wouldn’t find them.”
After a long breath the elderly man went on, “Well, we’ve reached the end of the line. You Hardys haven’t proved a thing, but you’ve certainly torn up my house and grounds.”
The three sleuths had to admit this was true but told him they were still fired by two hopes: to clear Mr. Robinson of the charge against him, and to find the stolen property. As they put their spades back into the Hardy car, Mr. Applegate invited them into the house to wash and have a bite to eat.
“I guess you boys could do with a second breakfast,” he added, and the brothers thought, “Maybe at times Mr. Applegate isn’t such a bad sort.”
They accepted the invitation and enjoyed the meal of waffles and honey. Their father then drove them to Bayport High.
Frank and Joe had no sooner stepped from the car than they heard their names called. Turning, they saw Iola Morton and Callie Shaw coming toward them.
“Hi, boys!”
“Hi, girls!”
“Say, did you hear what happened early this morning?” Callie asked.