"There's a thought!" exclaimed Joe. "We had two mighty strange things happen to us on the same day. Perhaps they have something to do with each other."
"It might be only a coincidence. But when you come to think of it, that house on the cliff would be a mighty handy hang-out for smugglers if they could keep strangers away. And what better way than by starting a story that the place is haunted?"
"Gosh, I never thought of that! I wonder what dad thinks of it."
"Perhaps he's at home now. We'll mention it to him."
But when they returned home for lunch they found that Fenton Hardy had not come back. Neither was he at home when school closed for the day; and when the Hardy boys went to bed that night there had not been the slightest word from their father nor any indication of where he had gone. In spite of the fact that they were accustomed to these sudden absences, the lads felt vaguely uneasy.
"I don't know why," said Frank next morning, "but I have a sort of feeling that everything isn't all right."
"I've been feeling that way myself. Of course, dad has often gone away from home like this without telling where he was going, and he has always turned up all right. But this time—"
