“Well, as long as we’re sure you’ll investigate, we won’t say anything to the newspapers,” said Frank, and Chief Collig breathed a sigh of relief.
“That’s fine. That’s fine,” he said. “Smuff and me, we’ll go up there first thing to-morrow morning and if we find out anything we’ll let you know.”
But although Chief Collig and Detective Smuff duly departed from Bayport the next morning in an exceptionally noisy and decrepit flivver, with Smuff perched nervously at the wheel, they returned before noon with the news that they had been able to discover nothing further regarding Fenton Hardy. They had, they said, called at the house, but the people there had given a reasonable explanation as to the finding of the cap.
“Real nice people, they were too,” added Chief Collig. “The man said he found the cap on the road, and why should he tell a lie about it? So Smuff and me, we came away.”
“Yes,” agreed Smuff profoundly, “we came away.”
“In a hurry,” suggested Joe sarcastically.
Collig and Smuff looked uncomfortable. To tell the truth they had been so impressed by the fearful stories they had heard of the house on the cliff that they had stayed no longer than was necessary. They had merely asked a few perfunctory questions of Redhead, had received his explanation of the finding of the cap, and had then hastened from the farm as quickly as was consistent with dignity.
“We’ve done our duty,” declared Chief Collig. “No man can do more.”
And with that the boys had to be content.
But they were not satisfied.