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The Chief Gets a Bomb · The Tower Treasure

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  Chapter fifteen of The Tower Treasure by Franklin W. Dixon. This LibriVox recording
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  is in the public domain. Chapter fifteen, The Chief gets a bomb.
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  What's up now, asked Joe, when the Hardy Boys had left the house.
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  Chief colleg and Detective Smuff must miss that train. But how I don't
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  know just yet, but they've got to miss it. If they reach the
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  hospital to night, they'll interview Jackie first. One of two things will happen.
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  They'll either get a confession and take all the credit for clearing up the
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  case, or they'll go about it so clumsily that Jackalie will say nothing and
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  spoil everything for Dad. The Hardy Boys walked along the street in silence.
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  They realized that the situation was urgent. But although they racked their brains trying
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  to think of some way in which to prevent Chief Collog and Detective Smuff from
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  catching the train, it seemed hopeless. Let's round up the gang, suggested
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  Joe. Perhaps they can think of something. The gang consisted of the boys
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  who had been with Frank and Joe the day they held the picnic in the
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  woods. There was, of course, Chet Morton. Besides him were Alan
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  Hooper, otherwise known as Biff because of his passion for boxing. Jerry Gilroy,
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  Phil Cohen, and Tony Pritto all students at the Bayport High School.
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  They were usually to be found on the school campus after hours playing ball,
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  and there the Hardy boys soon located them. The game was just breaking up,
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  Piker's grinned chet Morton when he saw the Hardy boys approaching. You wouldn't
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  play boy when we asked you to, and now you come around when the
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  game's all over. We had something more important on our minds, replied Frank.
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  We need your help. What's the matter? Asked Tony Pritto. Tony
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  was the son of a prosperous Italian building contractor, but he had not yet
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  been in America long enough to talk the language without an accent, and his
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  attempts were frequently the cause of much amuse to his companions. He was quick
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  and good natured, however, and laughed as much at his own errors as
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  anyone else did. Chief Colleague and Detective smuff Are butting into one of Dad's
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  cases, said Frank, we can't tell you much more about it than that,
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  but the whole thing is that they mustn't catch the seven o'clock train.
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  What do you want us to do, asked Biff Hooper. Blow up the
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  bridge. We might lock college and smuff in one of their own cells,
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  suggested Phil Cohen, and get locked in ourselves, added Jerry Gilroy, be
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  sensible. Are you serious about this? Frank? Absolutely? If those two
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  catch the train, Dad's case will be ruined. And I don't mind telling
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  you it has something to do with Perry Robinson. Chet Morton whistled, aha,
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  I see now the tower affair. In that case, we'll see too
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  that the seven o'clock train leaves here without our worthy Chief and his equally worthy,
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  although dumb detective he hated smuff for the sleuth had once or twice tried
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  to arrest the boys for bathing in a forbidden section of the bay. There
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  is only one question left, said Phil solemnly. And what is that?
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  How to keep them from getting on the train. Get your brains to work,
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  fellows, if you have any, ordered Jerry Gilroy. Let's figure out
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  a plan. A dozen plans were suggested, each wilder than the one before.
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  Biff Hooper was in favor of kidnapping the Chief and his detective, binding
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  them hand and foot and setting them adrift in the bay in an open boat.
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  Phil Cohen suggested putting the chief's watch an hour ahead. That plan,
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  as Frank observed, would have been a good one, but for the little
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  difficulty of laying hands on the watch. Chat Morton thought it would be a
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  good idea to start a fight in front of the police station just as colleg
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  and Smuff were about to leave for the train. The possibility that they might
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  all land in jail as a result made this suggestion unpopular. If we were
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  in Italy, we could get the black Hand to help, said Tony Pritto
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  the black Hand, declared Chet. That's a good idea. We got no
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  black hand society in Bayport, objected Tony. Let's get one up. Send
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  the chief a black hand letter warning him not to take that train, and
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  if he ever found who wrote it, we'd all be up to our necks
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  in trouble, pointed out Joe. I'd like to put a bomb under his
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  old police station. Fine idea, applauded Tony. Where we get the bomb,
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  leave it to me, announced Chet Morton. Mysteriously, I'll get a
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  bomb. I'll guarantee to keep the chief in town. Not a real bomb,
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  asked Frank, why not, said Chet, listen to me. Chet
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  proceeded to lay forth his plan in a stealthy whisper. It was received with
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  chuckles and murmurs of admiration. His companions clapped him on the back, and
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  when he had finished, the boys hastened down the street toward the Hearty home.
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  In the rear of the house where a garage in an old barn.
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  And the barn was a gymnasium that the hardy boys had fitted out for themselves.
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  And here was the usual collection of old toys, footballs, broken baseball
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  bats and such paraphernalia to be found wherever boys store their cherished possessions. Frank
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  groped about among the rubbish in one corner until at last he rose with an
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  exclamation of triumph, holding aloft a shining object. It's here, he said.
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  Let's get busy, there's no time to lose. An old box was
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  quickly produced and in it the shining object was placed. The box was then
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  carefully wrapped up, and in a few minutes the boys left the barn tony,
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  carrying the package under one arm. Not far from the Bayport Police station
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  was a fruit stand over which presided an Italian by the name of Rocco.
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  He was a simple, genial soul who believed almost everything he heard, and
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  like most of his countrymen, he was of an excitable nature. Toward Rocco's
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  fruit stand, the boys made their way. Rocco was sorting over his oranges
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  when they approached. Tony with the box under his arm hung in the background,
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  while Chet stepped boldly forward. How much your orange is, Roco?
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  He asked. Rocco, with much explanatory waving of his arms, recited the
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  prices of the various grades of oranges. Too much. There's a fellow at
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  another fruit stand on the next street sells him a nickel a dozen cheaper.
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  He no can do, shrieked Rocco. My price is de low. Then,
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  angered by this reflection on the prices of his wares, he burst into
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  a lengthy explanation of the struggles confronting a poor Italian trying to get along in
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  a new country. He grabbed a Chet by the coat collar, dragged him
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  to a corner of the fruit stall, bade him inspect the fruit, gabbled
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  off prices, and generally worked himself into a state of high indignation. In
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  the meantime, Tony Prido made good use of his time to shove the mysterious
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  package under the front of the stall. Then he joined the other boys who
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  had screened his movements by gathering around Rocco. They'll have the black Hand after
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  you if you keep on charging such high prices. That's all I can say,
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  declared Chet as the boys moved away. Poof what do I care for
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  the black Hand? No frighten me, said Roco bravely, But he gulped
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  when he said it, and there was no doubt that the shot had gone
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  home. It was now after six o'clock, and the boys decided that in
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  the interests of their plan, they would have to brook the parental wrath by
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  being late for supper. Frank had assumed that Chief Colleague and Detective Smuff would
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  be leaving to catch the train at about ten minutes to seven, So shortly
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  after six thirty, Phil Cohen, who had remained in the background during the
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  interview with Roco, walked smartly up to the fruit stand again. The others
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  were viewing the scene from around the corner of a nearby building. Banana,
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  said Phil bravely, tossing a nickel on the counter. When he had received
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  the fruit, he began to eat it at the same time chatting with Rocco.
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  What you think, snickered the Italian. Some boys come here a while
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  and save the black of hand. Tink, I charged it too much for
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  de fruit. Well you do charge too much, Roco, everybody says,
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  So I sell it the good fruit at the good price. Phil turned aside
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  and at the same time accidentally knocked an apple to the ground. He bent
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  to pick it up, Roco, eyeing him narrowly in case he tried to
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  slip it into his pocket, but Phil did not get up at once.
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  Instead, he said, Oi, what's this? What you find? What's
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  this? Roco? Phil rose from in front of the stand with the package
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  in his hands. I found this under the counter, Roco stared, his
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  mouth opened in dismay for sounding clearly. From inside of the package came a
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  steady t TikTok A bomb. He shrieked. Put him down. Thereupon,
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  he scrambled wildly over the array of fruit at the back of the stand,
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  knocked over a tray of oranges, and went sprawling over the opposite counter,
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  roaring police at the top of his lungs. Phil with a fine imitation of
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  fright, put the package on top of the counter and fled. Rocco,
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  in his white apron, was dancing about in the middle of the street yelling
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  bombs police the black a hand. Then, suddenly, fearing that the supposed
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  bomb might explode at any moment, he whirled rapidly about and raced down the
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  street away from the stand in the general direction of the police station. He
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  reached the doorway just as Chief College and Detective Smuff were leaving for the train.
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  Panting with fear and excitement, Roco implored them to save him from the
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  black handers who had put a bomb under his fruit stand. The bomb she
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  go tiak talk, he wailed. She blow at the stand into the little
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  piece a bomb, exclaimed Chief Collage. Surely not in Bayport. I always
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  thought there was black handers around here, said Smuff. She'd blow up the
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  fruit stand. Come quick. Chief Colling and Detective Smuff followed Rocco to the
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  corner. Then they peeped around until they could see the deserted fruit stand with
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  the package on the counter. You say it goes tik tok, just like
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  the clock. Must be a bomb, all right, said Smuff. They
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  run by clockwork might go off any minute, observed the Chief. I hate
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  to go near it, Smuff, you go and pour a pail of water
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  over it. Me. Yes, you you're not afraid, are you?
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  No, I'm not afraid, muttered Smuff, mopping his brow. But I
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  got to think of my wife and family, Coward, said the Chief.
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  I'd do it myself, only it wouldn't be right. Seein, I'm your
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  superior officer, bad for discipline. The worthy officer stared at the package on
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  the fruit stand counter, while Roco danced with impatience. Neither colleg nor Smuff
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  dared approach closer, but they realized something must be done. Where's Rightley,
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  asked the Chief. At last, out on his beat around the corner,
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  get him. Smuff departed hastily, glad of the chance to get away from
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  the vicinity of the bomb. He was some time in locating Conriley, and
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  when at last that minion of the law was escorted back to the Chief,
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  seven o'clock had come and gone. So had the train. End of Chapter fifteen.