“I’ll say it was,” Smuff agreed. “And Chief Collig is sure goin’ to hear about this.”
“Oh, please don’t tell him about us,” Joe spoke up, half closing his eyes so Smuff could not see the twinkle in them.
“I didn’t mean that. Oscar Smuff is no squealer. I mean Collig is goin’ to hear what I did.” The detective chuckled. “One more notch in my gun, as the cowboys say.”
Suddenly Smuff sobered and looked at his wrist watch. “Oh, no!” he cried out. “Ten minutes to six! I can’t make my plane!”
“That’s a shame,” Frank said consolingly. “But cheer up, Smuff, there’s a seven-o’clock plane for Albany. I wish you luck in your interview.”
Smuff stormed out of the fruit store and disappeared with his car. The Hardys and their friends burst into roars of laughter which did not stop until a woman customer came into the shop. All the boys but Frank and Joe left.
Rocco returned at six-thirty, pleased that so much fruit had been sold during his absence. “You better salesman than Rocco.” He grinned widely.
The Hardys went home, well-satisfied with their day’s work. The six-o’clock plane had left without Smuff. Their father could make his trip to the hospital without the annoying detective’s interference.
Fenton Hardy did not return home until the next afternoon. When the boys came from school they found him in high spirits.
“Solved the mystery?” Joe asked eagerly.