CHAPTER I

Hey Rube!

Joe Hardy studied the photograph in his hand and frowned, then burst out laughing.

"What a weirdo!" exclaimed the blond seventeen-year-old boy. "Take a look at him, Frank!"

He gave the snapshot to his dark-haired brother, who was eighteen. Both boys, sons of Fenton Hardy, the famous private detective, had hurried into the living room at the call of their Aunt Gertrude. She had just opened an envelope which contained the snapshot and a letter.

Frank gazed at the man in the picture. His head was topped with a shock of light-colored hair, and his cheeks and chin were hidden beneath a full, flowing beard.

"Sure is a freak," Frank commented.

"That's not the way to talk about a relative, especially when he's coming to visit," Aunt Gertrude said sternly, trying to hide a smile.

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2 Mystery of the Whale Tattoo

She was a tall, sharp-featured woman who wore metal-rimmed spectacles. Her prim visage was deceptive, though, for beneath her forbidding appearance she was really one of the kindest persons one could ever hope to meet.

"A relative?" Joe burst out. "You're kidding!"

"I am not! That's Elmer Hardy, a second cousin to your father and me," their aunt corrected. "Too bad Fenton's not at home," she added.

Mr. Hardy was on a tricky undercover assignment in New York City, where as a young man he had achieved an enviable record on the police force. That was before he had come to Bayport to start his own detective agency. Now Frank and Joe were following in their father's footsteps as astute young sleuths.

The news about Elmer Hardy's proposed visit stirred their curiosity.

"How come we've never heard of him?" Joe asked.

"Well, you see nobody in the family has set eyes on him for thirty years," Aunt Gertrude explained, "ever since the day he ran away to sea. Elmer always was a bit of a wild one."

Frank shook his head. "Thirty years is a long time to go without hearing from someone."

"Oh, we've exchanged a few letters over the years. Right from the start he's had a standing

"A relative?" Joe burst out. "You're kidding!"

4 Mystery of the Whale Tattoo

invitation to come and visit us, and that's just what he's going to do."

"Great!" Joe said. "I'll bet he can tell some terrific sea tales."

Aunt Gertrude consulted Elmer Hardy's letter. "He'll be arriving in about two weeks, perhaps sooner if he can manage it."

"May I keep the picture a while, so I can show it to Chet?" Joe asked.

"Yes," Aunt Gertrude said. "But mind now, you boys get all that laughing out of your system before Elmer arrives." She waggled a finger at them to emphasize her point.

"Yes, ma'am 1" Frank and Joe grinned.

The telephone rang. Frank picked it up. "Hello?" His eyes widened. "Just a second, Dad." He put his hand over the mouthpiece. "Joe, Dad's run into some problems. Get on the extension in his study."

Frank waited while his brother raced up the stairs to the second floor. It was highly unusual for Mr. Hardy to contact his family while working undercover and both boys were on the alert.

Joe picked up the extension. "Okay, Dad, go ahead."

"I'll try to make this brief," Mr. Hardy told his sons. "I want you to find someone for me, if it's at all possible. I'll give you the background so listen carefully."

"All right. Shoot!" Joe said.

Hey Rube! 5

Fenton Hardy explained that his quest was for a life-sized statue known as the "Ivory Idol," carved in the shape of a six-armed deity during the Ming dynasty. Ten years ago a gang of merchant sailors had stolen the Ivory Idol from the internationally famous Dudley-Harris collection in Hong Kong.

"There were reliable reports," Mr. Hardy said, "that the statue arrived in the United States a few months after its theft, but the police failed to turn up the slightest trace of it."

Frank and Joe jotted down the pertinent bits of information in pocket-sized notebooks, as their father went on, "One month ago R. R. Dunn, the famous New York art collector, received a note saying he could purchase the Ivory Idol for his private collection."

"Wowl So it turned up!" Joe exclaimed.

"Not quite yet. The price is fifty thousand dollars, and the thieves are asking a ten-thousand-dollar advance to cover their 'expenses.' "

"Who sent the note?" Frank asked.

"It's signed Blackright, nothing more," Mr. Hardy answered.

The detective went on to say that R. R. Dunn, as an honest collector, had notified Mr. Dudley-Harris immediately. The latter called the police and also engaged the services of Mr. Hardy.

"Any clues so far?" Joe inquired impatiently.

"Yes. An informer contacted the police last night and said that he knew something about

6 Mystery of the Whale Tattoo

Blackright. But the price he asked for his information was too high. Furthermore, he wanted a huge reward if Blackright was apprehended."

"Quite a wheeler-dealer!" said Frank.

There was a slight pause, then Mr. Hardy continued earnestly. "Now here's the crux of the matter. That phone call was traced to Bayport."

"What?" Joe exclaimed.

"Yes. To be precise, from a phone booth in the north quadrant of the fairgrounds. I want you boys to stake out the place."

"That's going to be a little rough," Frank said. "Solo's Super Carnival came to town yesterday and set up at the fairgrounds. They're opening tonight. No telling how many people have used that particular phone."

"Oh? I see," Mr. Hardy said. "Perhaps the man we want is connected with the carnival."

Frank and Joe tingled with excitement. They had often helped their father on important cases and had gained some renown with their clever solutions.

The Tower Treasure was their first successful case, and not long ago they had solved the mystery of The Secret Agent on Flight 101.

"Dad, we'll go to the fairgrounds right away," Joe said.

"But wait. I have a word of advice," Mr. Hardy said seriously. "This may be a dangerous gang with a lot at stake. Take no unnecessary chances."

Hey Rube! 7

"We'll watch ourselves," Frank assured his father and they hung up.

Joe came downstairs to join his brother in studying their notes. They were still discussing the mystery half an hour later, when the doorbell rang. Frank rose, but Mrs. Hardy passed the living-room entrance on the way to the front door and motioned for him to sit down.

The boys heard the voice of a man and the name Solo and were out of their chairs in an instant and on the way into the foyer. Solo was a tall man with ruddy cheeks and good-humored eyes.

After Mrs. Hardy introduced her sons, Sid Solo said, "I sure am sorry Mr. Hardy's out of town. We've been plagued with pickpockets in the last six towns we've played. Bad for business, keeps the customers away. I thought if I hired Mr. Hardy-well, what with his reputation and all- those pickpockets would skedaddle pretty quick."

Frank winked at Joe, then said, "Mr. Solo, perhaps my brother and I can help you."

The carnival man beamed. "Why, I'd consider that a personal favor. I've heard of some of your exploits and I'll lay two-to-one odds that those cheap crooks won't be any happier with Fenton Hardy's sons on the job than they would be with your dad."

Solo hired the boys on the spot, told them he opened daily at three in the afternoon, and then left.

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As soon as they had finished supper, Frank and Joe hurried out to their convertible and were on their way to Solo's Super Carnival. Frank was at the wheel.

"It's perfect," he said as they sped down the highway. "We can kill two birds with one stone-get rid of Mr. Solo's pickpockets and search for our mystery informer at the same time."

At the fairgrounds they parked in one of the spacious lots, with scores of other cars. As they walked toward the carnival, the voices of pitchmen could be heard shouting above the noise of a merry-go-round calliope. Delighted shrieks from riders on the roller coaster added to the buoyant feeling of the carnival. Frank and Joe strode briskly to one of the side gates, where there were not many patrons.

The ticket taker was a large, burly youth only a few years older than the Hardys.

Frank smiled. "We're the Hardys. Mr. Solo is expecting us."

Joe took a step toward the entrance, but the sullen-faced attendant blocked the way. "You're the Hardys! So what? You gotta buy a ticket!"

Frank explained their mission as sleuths, but the fellow kept shaking his head. "Get lost!"

Frank grew impatient. "I'll leave my brother here," he said. "But I'm going to find Mr. Solo,

Hey Rube! 9

bring him back, and get things straightened out." He started past the booth.

The big ticket taker grabbed Frank roughly around the neck and threw him to the ground. Then he poised for a kick.

"Watch it, Frank!" Joe yelled and tackled the bully, bringing him to the ground with a thud.

With a curse, the ticket taker lunged to his feet and rained hammerlike blows upon Joe. At the same time, he threw back his head and bellowed, "Hey Rube!"

The traditional carnival trouble call sounded over the fairgrounds.

"Hey Rube!" he shouted again.