“Good night!” Chet exclaimed. “Perhaps mine are gone too.” He ran out of the shed over to the road and hastily examined the tool box on his machine. Then he straightened up with an audible sigh of relief.
“Thank goodness, they’re here! Guess whoever took the others figured he had enough.”
“I’m going back!” declared Frank.
“If you do, you’ll have to excuse me,” Chet said. “You’re welcome to use my tools to fix up your machine, but I won’t go back with you.”
“Me neither,” chimed in Jerry and Biff simultaneously.
Frank and Joe were silent. They wanted to go back to the Polucca place and investigate the matter further, but they did not want to break up the party, so they decided it would be better policy to remain with their companions.
“All right,” Frank said. “Lend me a pair of pliers and I’ll have this trouble fixed up in no time.”
He went over to Chet’s motorcycle and got the desired tools. Then he began to tinker with his machine. It was only a minor defect, and a few minutes’ work sufficed to repair the damage. In the meantime it was apparent that the rain was letting up, and by the time the Hardy boys took their motorcycles out of the shed and regained the road, it had died away to a mere drizzle.
“This has been some holiday!” Chet muttered, as he mounted his machine again. “I’m going home. Jerry, you and Biff had better come up to our place for dinner. How about you and Joe, Frank?”
“Thanks just the same, but we couldn’t. We promised to be back home this afternoon.”