The Secret of the Lost Tunnel (Hardy Boys, Book 29)
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Difficult assignments are nothing new to the Hardy boys and this one that takes them to the Deep South is particularly challenging. Their mission: to vindicate a long-dead Confederate general, disgraced during the Civil War because he was accused of stealing hidden gold belonging to a bank. Skillfully avoiding booby traps and flying bullets, the boys persevere in their perilous quest. The arduous search is full of surprises that will thrill all fans of the Hardy boys.
the circulation. “Gosh, are we glad to see you!” “What happened?” General Smith asked, as soon as he was assured that the Hardys had not been injured. “While Joe and I were waiting for Chet to get a picture of the deer,” Frank said, “three men jumped us. We were gagged and blindfolded. They must have followed us from Centerville.” “Who were they?” Chet asked. “Couldn’t tell,” Joe replied. “They wore masks. But listen to this. One of them was called Junior!” “Probably very young,” General
growled the man. “Professor!” Randolph suddenly appeared from behind a glass display case. “Back again, eh?” “We’re going to finish the tour you interrupted yesterday,” Frank stated firmly. “I repeat,” the professor intoned, his voice rising in a crescendo, “this place now belongs to me!” “There’s no deed recorded in your name at the courthouse!” Frank said evenly. The man winced, then he said with a curl to his lips, “They haven’t had time to file one yet. I bought the place only
wet footprints on one side of the car. “Oh no!” An awful thought flashed through his mind. Frank put his hand on the car door handle. Wet! The boy’s fears were confirmed when he flung the door open. Inside the house, Joe and the general waited for Frank to return with the gun clue. They heard his racing steps, then saw him dash into the room empty-handed. “Where’s the rifle?” Joe said. “It’s gone!” “Impossible!” “I tell you, Joe, the rifle’s disappeared!” CHAPTER X The Missing Rifle
stream and overhanging trees was a welcome relief to the perspiring boys. They feverishly began to examine each rock and crack in the old structure. “Guess they built this thing to last a million years,” Chet called out as he climbed higher on the pile of stones. Frank was too busy to reply. His hands felt the rough surface of one stone after another. His knife probed every moss-covered crack between the ancient building blocks. Occasionally a piece of the abutment would fall into the stream
thought ever since I came here, Fenton, that your sons were acting rather peculiarly!” Grinning like a couple of boys, Mr. Hardy and General Smith recalled the happy days they had spent together one summer in an officers’ training camp. Frank turned to the general finally. “General Smith, have you any idea who Dr. Bush and the woman caller might be?” “Not the faintest,” General Smith answered, a worried frown creasing his forehead. “My guess is,” Mr. Hardy spoke up, “that Bush is no doctor