He was right. There was no mistaking the surly visage of the ex-farmhand. The man with him was unknown to the boys, but he was no more prepossessing than his companion. Broad of build, unshaven of face, he was not the sort of fellow one would care to meet alone on a dark night.
"Handsome-looking pair," Joe commented.
The car swung out into the road and the two men stepped out into the ditch, turning their faces away. Frank stepped on the accelerator, and the roadster shot ahead.
"This seems to be Gus Montrose's beat," he said, when they had driven beyond hearing distance.
"Wonder what takes him out along here every night."
"Perhaps he was the chap who got into the roadster."
But Frank shook his head.
"That fellow went away in the direction Montrose is coming from," he pointed out. "And, besides, he was alone."
"That's true, too."
Wondering what brought Montrose and his villainous-looking companion out the Shore Road on foot at that hour, the Hardy boys drove back into Bayport.