“What has that to do with it?” asked Fenton Hardy, smiling.
“Mr. Jefferson wasn’t in Bayport at the time. You remember, we got a big reward for clearing up that case and the owners of the stolen cars contributed to it. But as Mr. Jefferson was away, he wasn’t in on that. Perhaps he wants to add to it,” said Joe hopefully.
Fenton Hardy shook his head in amusement.
“I thought you did very well. Surely you aren’t looking for more money.”
“Oh, we’re not looking for more. Still, if Mr. Jefferson feels hurt because he couldn’t show his appreciation, why, we wouldn’t turn down any offer,” and Joe grinned.
“I don’t know Mr. Jefferson,” said Frank. “What’s he like, Dad?”
“He is an antique dealer,” returned Mr. Hardy. “He is quite well known in his own field. He travels in Europe a great deal, buying antiques. Of late years he has kept very much to himself. I believe he has made a great deal of money, and in his time he was one of the leading experts in antique furniture in the country.”
“Isn’t he still an expert?”
“Oh, yes. But he isn’t as prominent as he once was. Something happened to him a few years ago that made the old fellow very queer. I don’t remember exactly what it was; but since that time he has been something of a character.”
“Sounds interesting,” commented Joe. “Well, I guess we’d better go and see him to-morrow, hadn’t we, Frank?”