Just as the Hardy boys and their father crossed the threshold the door on the opposite side of the room was flung open.
Frank had a confused glimpse of the dark man, Snackley, whom they had seen in the cove that afternoon, with half a dozen rough men crowding behind him. Then he saw Snackley whip a revolver from his pocket.
The chief of the smugglers was filled with astonishment, but he did not lose his presence of mind. The weapon was leveled at Frank before he had time to close the door.
Snackley did not speak. He pressed the trigger and the revolver roared, the echoes crowding on one another in that narrow space. The bullet chipped into the wood of the door.
Frank ducked. Joe, who was in the lead, flung himself to one side. Fenton Hardy stumbled out on to the landing at the top of the stairs.
“Come back!” roared Snackley, plunging across the room. “Come back or I’ll fire again!”
As the smuggler drew closer Frank crouched for a spring, and then leaped directly at Snackley. He struck out at the man’s wrist and the revolver flew out of the rascal’s grasp, skidding across the floor into a corner.
Then they grappled, and so sudden had been Frank’s attack that the smuggler was taken by surprise and he reeled up against the wall. But his companions rushed to his rescue. Frank was swiftly overpowered and dragged away, while other smugglers, with drawn revolvers, pursued Joe and Fenton Hardy out on to the landing. Being unarmed, they were forced to submit, otherwise they would have been shot without mercy.
The struggle was short. The menacing revolvers gave the smugglers the upper hand.
Within five minutes Fenton Hardy was bound to the cot again while the Hardy boys were seated, trussed up and unable to move, on two chairs near by. They were captives of the smugglers!