Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

The boys' father smiled knowingly. "I agree. It's hard to understand why some people fall for such scams. But, sometimes, in their quest for power and glory, some people easily become hoodwinked by those who promise it through mystical or occult means."

"Hoodwinked is right," Frank declared. "If the Mysterians promise psychic power and control over others ... why, that's just pure bunk. Any sensible person knows that."

"The problem is, my boys, men who seek that kind of power are not necessarily sensible."

"I'll say," Joe agreed. "I think you'd have to be a real goon to fall under the spell of a cult like that. Where have you been looking for them, Dad?"

"They are headquartered in New York , and that's why I've been spending so much time there lately. They are elusive, though. I have not been able to find their Inner Sanctum, as they call it, their headquarters and 'temple'. But I do know it's located somewhere between Greenwich Village and the Financial District."

"Yipes! That's a pretty big area," Frank responded. "Don't you wonder why Grand Master Question Mark may have been up this way on Cabin Island today?"

"I sure do, boys, and I mean to find out. Bobby's father may be involved with the Mysterians in some way and planned to meet them on Cabin Island this afternoon."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, rubbing his chin with his fingers. Then, "Their main focus is to get property from their victims. I'm inclined to believe they may be trying to acquire Cabin Island ."

Joe's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Maybe the Mysterians set the fire! Mr. Jefferson told us he'd never sell the island because his deceased wife and son used to love spending time there. But with the cabin destroyed, he might be inclined to change his mind."

"I wonder if he's been approached by them to sell the island?" Frank mused. "We should stop by and ask him."

"Great idea," Fenton Hardy praised. "Why don't you boys visit him tomorrow?"

Frank and Joe nodded eagerly, and Joe added, "We'll go in the morning. But I sure hope Bobby's dad isn't one of the Mysterians. That'd make him a crook!"

"We'll have to wait and see," their father advised. "The cute little tyke may hold the key to this entire case, if only he can remember his past!"

Dinner that evening was earlier than usual and comparable to a holiday feast. The extra fuss was all meant for little Bobby, but Frank and Joe enjoyed it immensely, too, for their appetites were hardier than usual due to their exciting adventures on the bay in the cold frosty air.

Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude had made roasted chicken with all the trimmings, including vegetables and creamy mashed potatoes. For dessert there was a sumptuous chocolate cake with fudge-like frosting that Aunt Gertrude had baked especially for Bobby. The boy was all smiles and in high spirits, and he ate with a voracious appetite.

"I never ate such good food!" he exclaimed happily, much to the pleasure of Mrs. Hardy and Aunt Gertrude.

They did not ply the boy with questions about his past during the meal, nor after it while they sat around the radio console in the living room listening to a mystery show. They knew the boy needed time to recover from the shock. The Christmas tree was still up, its colorful lights twinkling, and outside the front terrace doors next to it could be seen the falling snow. Frank and Joe kept exchanging amused glances as they watched how motherly their mother and Aunt Gertrude were being to their little friend. They'd probably want to keep him for good if his father couldn't be found.

Doctor Andersen came over later and gave Bobby a complete examination. He announced that the boy was in tip-top condition but in a state of shock, as they had already suspected. It was the doctor's belief that after a day or two of quiet and rest the boy should recover his memory completely.

"Children are very resilient in traumatic experiences of this nature," he declared. "Unlike us older folks, they recover quickly."

Later, Frank called Callie on the telephone to bring her up to date with the latest developments. Next he called Chet so that he and Iola would know what had happened on the island, and the activity that had followed. Then, finally, he called Biff.

"Wow! It's another mystery for you and Joe to solve," the Hooper boy exclaimed. "I wonder who that strange wizard-looking man could be?"

Frank had not told any of his chums about the strange cult called the Mysterians because of the confidential nature of their father's work.

"I wonder, too," Frank responded. "It sure is queer, isn't it? But you can bet Joe and I will get to the bottom of it!"

Aunt Gertrude had prepared the guest bedroom for Bobby and the boy soon showed signs of tiring by wide long yawns. Frank and Joe took him upstairs and tucked him in.

"We'll leave this bedside lamp on for you, Bobby," Joe told him, playfully tossling the boy's curly blond hair. "And we'll be right across the hall in our bedroom."

"And we'll leave the doors open," Frank added. "If you need anything, just call us. We'll be over in a jiffy."

The boy yawned again and sighed happily. "I like it here. This is the best house in the world to live in!"

The boys looked at each other and grinned. "We sure think so!"

Later, in their room, after they had gotten into bed, the boys couldn't help discussing the case in further detail.

"Wouldn't it be something if that strange man on the island really was the leader of the cult Dad is investigating?" Joe asked.

"That's got to be the story!" Frank affirmed with conviction. "The jeweled pin proves it. What we have to find out is what connection the Mysterians have to Cabin Island ."

"Who'd ever think, " Joe said musingly, "that Cabin Island had so many secrets? First there was the long lost stamp collection, and now this mystery about the fire and the sinister cult."

"Which we are definitely going to solve," Frank said, with a yawn. "But not tonight. Tomorrow will be soon enough. I'm beat!"

"Me, too," Joe uttered, curling up snugly under his blankets. "We sure had an exciting, eventful, and tiring day!"

It was sometime later when Frank awoke, having heard a noise which sounded to him like the breaking of glass. He opened his eyes and strained his ears to hear more, but all he could hear was the moaning of the wind and sleet-like snow beating against the bedroom window. Soon enough, he got tired of such strained listening and decided the noise had just been from the wind and snow. He turned over on his side and snuggled comfortably in the warm bed, shutting his eyes once again.

But a few minutes later a loud piercing scream from downstairs caused him to shoot up out of the bed like a rocket. He pulled on his robe as he rushed to the door and banged into Joe, who was doing the same exact thing.

"Oops! What the heck was that?" Joe burst out.

Another scream pierced the air at that precise moment!

"It's Aunt Gertrude!" Frank exclaimed. "We'd better investigate!"

The boys rushed headlong down the stairs in the dark, almost tripping over each other several times before reaching the downstairs hall. Joe flicked on the light in the dining room and they ran in, swiveling their necks around in all directions for some indication of what had happened to Aunt Gertrude. Joe ran into the library to check that room. Frank hurried into the living room and let out an astonished gasp.

"Oh no! Joe! Come in here!"

A moment later Joe sprang into the living room and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Yikes!" he yelped, as Joe switched on a table lamp.

Aunt Gertrude, wearing a robe over her nightgown and a mass of curlers in her hair, and holding a long-handled rag mop, was sprawled out on the floor with the Christmas tree laying ontop of her.

"Well, don't just stand there gaping at me, you dolts!" the woman demanded. "Get this tree off of me! My goodness, I'm going to have pine needles and tinsel all over me for days!"

When they didn't move because of their surprise at what they were seeing, she glared at them and cried, "Snap to it, boys! What are you, in a trance or something?"

The boys jumped into action and Joe apologized. "Sorry, Aunty. It was just such a shock to see you like this..."

"Shock, my foot!" she broke in. "Hurry it up!"

The boys pulled up the tree and then set it to rights by the French doors. While Joe tightened its stand so it wouldn't fall back down, Frank helped Aunt Gertrude to her feet. There were pine needles, tinsel, and tiny pieces of broken glass ornaments all around her on the carpeting.

"Well, I never!" she fumed, brushing herself off. "I never did like the idea of bringing trees into the house, I must say, and then decorating them with all those fussy things, lights and glass balls and such! Then you only have to take it all down a couple weeks later, and it just turns out to be nothing but a big mess anyway. Humphh! As if a woman doesn't have enough work to do in a house without coming up with such a frivolous excuse to give her more!"

Frank and Joe stared at each other and rolled their eyes. No one could carry on quite the way Aunt Gertrude did!

"What happened, Aunty?" Frank asked, leading her away from the broken glass on the floor.

"What happened?" she repeated, with a cackle. "Some detective you are. Somebody broke into the house! You'd think that with three detectives in the house, at least one of you would've heard and come downstairs. But no, you fellows leave it up to me, an old lady, to come down and deal with the culprit!"

"Sorry, Aunty, but I didn't hear anything," Joe said, getting up to his feet.

Frank frowned. "I did hear a noise like breaking glass, sort of."

"Sort of?" the woman exploded, plopping down onto the couch, still holding her rag mop. "What kind of detective sort of hears something? Oh, I know you found the tower treasure, solved that mystery at the house on the cliff, went out west hunting for hidden gold, and even found the stolen cars during the shore road mystery, but it takes me ... me...to chase away a burglar!"

The boys could only look at each other and grin. She really had them on this one!

"That's because you're a light sleeper, Aunty," Frank said. "And a lot braver than Joe and me, too!"

The woman sniffed. "You bet your life I am!"

Joe had noticed that one of the French doors leading outside was slightly ajar. The pane of glass by the knob was shattered and small shards of glass were on the floor below. He pointed it out to his brother.

Frank nodded. "Obviously the way the intruder broke in. That must have been the breaking glass I heard. I thought it was just the wind. Boy, I should've gotten up to check it out."

Joe snickered. "Why bother? We have Aunt Gertrude here to protect us."

"Don't be snide, young man," she snapped. "I heard the glass break, too, and came right down with my mop. And, ugh, this horrible-looking person was standing right next to the tree, just waiting. He must've heard me coming down the stairs. Then he lunged out to grab me and I screamed and whacked him with the mop. He fell against the tree and it came crashing down on me. That's when I screamed again, and he turned and ran out the door. Scared him away, I did," she added, proudly.

"What did the man look like?" Joe asked.

"It was too dark to see him well, but he was all dressed up like Houdini himself or one of those nutty swamis. Had on a big cloak and furry hat, like that fellow Callie and the boy saw on Cabin Island ."

"Wow," Joe uttered, looking at Frank. "It might have been Question Mark himself!"

Frank nodded. "Right. Looking for little Bobby or maybe his jeweled stick-pin!"

"What! Do you know who this fellow is?" Aunt Gertrude demanded.

Fenton Hardy and the boys had not told Aunt Gertrude about the stick-pin or the mysterious cult and its leader. Frank was just about to answer when Mrs. Hardy came down the stairs, wrapped in a colorful robe.

"What happened?" she asked. "I heard voices and came down to check. Oh my, look at the mess on the floor!"

The two boys and Aunt Gertrude told her what had happened.

"Heavens! This certainly warrants an investigation. We'd better call the police. Where is your father?"

Joe frowned. "Wasn't he upstairs with you?"

Mrs. Hardy shook her head. "No, he didn't come up to bed. I checked on Bobby. He's okay. But Fenton isn't upstairs."

"Maybe he fell asleep in the library," Aunt Gertrude suggested. "He sometimes does when he's up late working on a case."

"I'll check," Joe said, moving off in that direction.

Mrs. Hardy stooped down to pick up some of the debris from the carpet while Frank called the police department from the hall phone and asked them to send out a patrol car. Not a minute later Joe came running out of the library with a piece of note paper in his hand.

"Dad's gone!" he told the others, excitedly. He quickly explained to his mother and Aunt Gertrude about the strange cult his father was investigating and how it might tie in with the mystery surrounding Cabin Island .

"Dad left this note. It says he's gone to New York in search of the Mysterians, and he took the stick-pin we found at the island to use as bait to capture Question Mark himself!"

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.