"We had something more important on our minds," replied Frank. "We need your help."
"What's the mattah?" asked Tony Prito. Tony was the son of a prosperous Italian building contractor, but he had not yet been in America long enough to talk the language without an accent, and his attempts were frequently the cause of much amusement to his companions. He was quick and good-natured, however, and laughed as much at his own errors as any one else did.
"Chief Collig and Detective Smuff are butting into one of dad's cases," said Frank. "We can't tell you much more about it than that. But the whole thing is that they mustn't catch the seven o'clock train."
"What do you want us to do?" asked Biff Hooper. "Blow up the bridge?"
"We might lock Collig and Smuff in one of their own cells," suggested Phil Cohen.
"And get locked in ourselves," added Jerry Gilroy. "Be sensible. Are you serious about this, Frank?"
"Absolutely. If those two catch that train dad's case will be ruined. And I don't mind telling you it has something to do with Perry Robinson."
Chet Morton whistled.
"Ah, ha! I see now. The Tower affair. In that case, we'll see to it that the seven o'clock train leaves here without our worthy chief and his equally worthy—although dumb—detective." He hated Smuff, for the sleuth had once or twice tried to arrest the boys for bathing in a forbidden section of the bay.
"There is only one question left," said Phil solemnly.