The Hardy boys were astonished by this information. Their father, tapping a pencil quickly on the desk, leaned forward in his chair.
“You may have stumbled on some information of great value,” he said to them quietly. “I need hardly tell you that it is best to keep it to yourself. If Ganny Snackley is operating in this vicinity it will be a great feather in our cap to catch him.”
“It’s an unusual name,” remarked Frank. “I’ll bet that’s the Snackley our man meant, all right.”
“And the farmer said there was smuggling going on in the Bay,” Joe pointed out.
“Of course, there always has been more or less smuggling carried on in Barmet Bay. But it’s been on a small scale. Ganny Snackley and his gang are international smugglers. The last I heard of him he was operating up on the New England coast. But probably things grew too hot for him and he moved down here. He seems to have dropped completely out of sight for the past six months or so.”
“Perhaps this man Jones, at the farmhouse, will talk later on.”
“I’m going out there to interview him,” said Fenton Hardy. “I’ll wait a few days until he is feeling better. Of course the matter is one for the United States authorities, and as I haven’t been assigned to the case I can’t do very much. But perhaps I’ll get some information I can use at some other time.”
“Joe and I will go out to-morrow and see how he is getting along.”
“Do so. But don’t ask any questions. Don’t let him think you are suspicious of him. Otherwise he’ll be liable to sneak away as soon as he can, and we’ll lose him altogether. He is under an obligation to you now because you saved his life, so it will seem quite natural for you to come back to see him. If you think he is recovering quickly, let me know and I’ll go out right away and talk to him. If you think he will be there for several days yet, we’ll just let him stay until he feels better.”
“Perhaps he is a detective himself,” Frank suggested.