“Safe so far,” whispered the detective to his sons.
They moved out of the shed, after closing the trapdoor, and stood in the shadows.
“We can’t go by way of the lane,” whispered Frank.
“There’s a prisoner in the cellar of that house,” said Fenton Hardy. “I hate to go without setting him free.”
“A prisoner?”
“I heard them talking about him.”
“Why can’t we go to town for help?”
“Once they find us gone they’ll clear out.”
“But three of us can’t do much against this gang. They’ll just capture us all again.”
The detective considered this for a moment. At last he sighed.