"What a fine chase we would have had if they had got out into the woods. Well, we have 'em trapped now."
Whispers followed. The boys listened. Once they heard some one say:
"The back stairs—"
Frank turned to his father.
"They're going to rush us by the back stairs!"
"I hadn't thought of that," said Mr. Hardy. "I wonder if there is any way of reaching the attic."
Frank took the flashlight from his pocket and switched it on. Just a few yards away he could distinguish a flight of stairs leading up to a trapdoor in the ceiling. At the same time he could hear a stealthy noise at the bottom of another flight of steps that led to the kitchen.
"Hurry!" he whispered, and the three moved silently down the hall until they reached the steps.
Joe went up first and Frank followed with the light, while Fenton Hardy stood at the bottom of the steps to cover their retreat with the revolver.
When Joe reached the trapdoor he pushed at it. At first it proved stubborn and would not open. There was an anxious moment while he strove to force it open but in spite of all his efforts it would not budge.
