"How'll we get into the mill?" asked Joe.
"We'll have to wait until we get there before we lay our plans. I've sort of forgotten the layout of the place. But if we work it right I think we should be able to get inside. I'd like to get into that mysterious stone room that Lester mentioned, and see what sort of machinery they have in there. I'll bet it's an engraving plant and a printing press instead of a patent breakfast food machine."
"What if we're caught—"
"That's a chance we're taking. We've got to risk it. What if we find that the place is really the headquarters of this counterfeit gang? Look at it that way."
So for the rest of the evening the boys were conspicuously studious. They were occupied with their books until twilight fell, after which Frank yawned and murmured that he would like a breath of fresh air.
"Think I'll go out for a little spin on the motorcycle," he said casually.
"I'll go with you," observed Joe promptly.
Fenton Hardy looked up.
"Yes, you've been in the house all evening. Go ahead."
"Don't be long," advised Mrs. Hardy.
"We won't be any longer than we can help," said Frank mysteriously.
With that, the Hardy boys left the house
