"Probably. While you were away this morning I called up one of the government authorities in the city, and he told me that they believe smugglers are operating in Barmet Bay on a big scale."
"Did you tell him about Snackley?"
Mr. Hardy smiled. "Not yet. That information, I thought I would keep to myself for the time being. But I wonder if Snackley can be here. It begins to look like it. He is the kind who wouldn't stop at anything from kidnapping to murder."
"Do the authorities suspect him of being around here?"
"I imagine so. The man I was talking to mentioned the fact that the smugglers they are after are in the drug line. And Snackley is king of the dope smugglers on the Atlantic coast."
"Gee! I wish we could land him."
"Of course," said Fenton Hardy, "no one has asked us to work on this case, and I don't believe in working for nothing—"
"You mean you won't help?" asked Joe, in disappointment.
Fenton Hardy's eyes twinkled as he went on.
"I don't believe in working for nothing," he repeated. "But if we ever caught this man Snackley it would be worth our while."
