The elder Hardy looked at it carefully. "It’s too small for a door key," he decided. He held out his hand, and Joe reluctantly placed the key in it. Frank turned the object over in his fingers, still regarding it closely. "It has a number on it…" he noted. "I think the best bet would be a locker of some sort." he said finally. "The sort they have at airports, or train stations, or bus terminals."

Joe’s face fell. "That’s a lot of places to choose from."

"Well, we can try finding out about it tomorrow. We can’t really do anything tonight." Frank pocketed the key and headed for the hallway. As they passed the police investigator, the boys smiled politely, but didn’t speak. We’ll turn this over to the police after we find out what it goes to. Frank rationalized to himself as they hurried to their room. We’re only concealing evidence for a little while….

"Let’s get to bed," Joe proposed now, speaking very clearly for the benefit of the police officers still patrolling the hall. "We have to be up early for that trip to the Parthenon." He used his key to open the room door, and the boys entered, closing it carefully behind them. Once secure, Joe and Frank faced each other with elated grins.

"A clue at last!" Joe exulted.

"It’s a pretty slim clue," Frank reminded him. "Still, it’s better than nothing. We can try checking it out after we go to the Parthenon."

*****

In the morning, the boys met Joe’s classmates and teacher in the hotel lobby, where Joe asked Mr. Freemont about Frank accompanying them to the Parthenon. The teacher willingly acceded to the request, and Frank arranged to follow the bus transporting the class to the museum. Although Joe would have liked to ride with his brother rather than on the bus, there were notes to be taken, for his class work. Reluctantly, he climbed aboard with the others, while Frank went to the van.

After an uneventful drive through the early-morning traffic, the Parthenon was reached, and the students spilled out of the bus into the parking lot. Frank pulled into a parking space nearby, got out, and strolled over to join Joe.

"All right, people! Settle down!" Mr. Freemont remonstrated his class, and eventually there was quiet, only occasionally interspersed with whispers, giggles and shuffling of feet. Freemont beckoned the students in close, and issued instructions as to behavior while they were on the tour, plus reminding the class members what to look for, as far as the notes went.

Finally they entered the building, where they were met by the director, a slight man less than medium height with gray hair, and a gray beard and moustache. Hazel eyes sparkled behind his wire-rimmed glasses, which seemed a bit too large for his face. He was attired in a neat, black, three-piece suit.

"Welcome to the Parthenon!" he said, smiling. "My name is Theodore Ratkin, Ted for short. I am very happy to have you here, and I hope you enjoy the tour today. There are some beautiful pieces of artwork in the collection which we’ll be displaying on Friday." The hazel eyes lighted up as he spoke of the collection, and the students smiled back, instinctively responding to his enthusiasm.

"I will conduct you personally on the tour of the building, in just a few minutes." Mr. Ratkin continued. "However, first I need to speak to two of your group privately for a few minutes." He glanced around the group. "Joe Hardy? And Frank Hardy?"

Somewhat embarrassed at being singled out in this fashion, the brothers stepped forward and identified themselves. Ratkin indicated that they should follow him, and led the way towards what was evidently his private office. As they did so, a voice was heard from the group of students left waiting in the rotunda; Rich Sutton’s voice: "See? I told you they were involved in another mystery!"

Once in the office, Ratkin gestured to the boys to sit down, and seated himself behind his desk. "Steve Parker contacted me," he began. "And I’ve no problem with acceding to his requests. Here are your security passes—" He took two plastic-coated rectangles from a desk drawer, and handed one to each of the brothers. "—and I’ll go over the security arrangements with you. Those passes will allow you to pretty much come and go as you need to…." He stopped, laughing. "I’m not giving you keys to the museum, though! So you will be constrained in that respect."

Frank and Joe laughed too, as they accepted the security passes.

"At any rate, as to the security arrangements…" Ted Ratkin went on once more. "We’ve got contingents of guards – both private guards hired by the museum, and police officers. They’ll be keeping a close eye on the money, and on the people who are here, naturally. Also, there will be an alarm system activated, and it won’t be deactivated until all the money has been distributed and the recipients have left the building. Everyone who is receiving money will be required to stay in the upper portion of the building until the distribution process is complete. Only then will the alarm system be deactivated and all the people allowed to leave."

Joe frowned upon hearing this. "I thought the public was going to be allowed in." he commented. "If they had tickets, they would be allowed to be here. If you have an alarm system turned on…."

"Oh, that’s true," Ratkin acknowledged. "But the money is being given away on the top floor of the building, and that’s the part where the alarm system will be active. The lower floors will be open to the public, of course, and the special art exhibit will be available to everyone. The money giveaway is a private ceremony, of course, and only those involved will be allowed in that area."

"The alarm system?" Frank inquired.

"We have installed a temporary alarm system for this floor. It’s usually used for business purposes, and so it isn’t connected to the system which guards the artwork." Ratkin explained.

"We’ll want to see the top floor," Frank noted. "And check out the alarm system, naturally. I’d like to know what type of system it is – does it have visual and audio alarms, as well as motion sensors? And can we have a list of the guards’ names?"

"What about the other employees of the museum?" Joe put in. "How many are there, and who are they, and will they be allowed on the top floor of the museum when the money distribution is going on?"

"I’ll get you a list of the employees and the guards," promised Ratkin. "Employees will not be allowed on the top floor while the distribution is occurring, but of course, the guards will."

"Mr. Ratkin, what did you think of Donald Tremaine?" Frank asked then, as Ratkin was assembling his employee list. "What sort of person was he – what impression did you get of him?"

"He was honest, and devoted to his job." Ratkin promptly replied. "Of that I’m absolutely certain. He was close-mouthed, though – always played things close to his chest. He didn’t reveal much about anything he was doing, or working on. That’s only sensible for a security advisor!" he added with a laugh.

"Did he say anything that might lead you to believe he was suspicious of anyone?"

Ratkin stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it," he said at last, "he seemed a bit agitated when I mentioned your school group being here."

Joe frowned in bewilderment. "Why?" he asked.

"I have no idea." Ratkin admitted. "As soon as I knew you were coming to town, I arranged the tour; Darrin Freemont and I are old friends, and I knew he would want his students to see the collection. When I told Tremaine about it, he appeared to be a bit upset, and I recall he jotted something down on a piece of paper."

Frank’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Loose paper?" he asked. "Not a notebook?"

"That’s right," Ratkin nodded. "I commented on it, because he had all these little pieces of paper with notes written on them. He said he always used loose paper; notebooks were too difficult to hide."

"Do you happen to remember any of your last conversation with him?" Joe inquired.

"Yes, I remember that he said he was going to be late getting to the meeting." Mr. Ratkin said. "He said he needed to check on something first. I’m sorry," he added. "but he never said what it was he needed to check."

"I think we should rejoin the tour group." Frank glanced at his watch and stood up. "We’ve made them wait long enough."

"You’ll get to see the top floors on the tour," Ratkin promised them as he led the way back to the others. "Everyone will."

The tour was very interesting; Frank and Joe both would have been pleased enough just to be seeing the exhibits, without the additional responsibility of checking for security measures and trying to make note of the layout of the rooms and the various museum personnel.

Joe’s classmates were interested too. Mr. Freemont had to continually remind them to take notes as they proceeded; the students were so busy looking and admiring and commenting on the exhibits that they had difficulty remembering to write things down. Frank, however, was scribbling madly the whole time…and the things he was writing down had nothing to do with the exhibits.

Before they left the museum, Mr. Ratkin took the Hardys briefly, to assure them again that they would be allowed to return whenever they wished during museum hours. "Just report to whoever is on duty," the museum director said. "Those badges I gave you will essentially let you have the run of the place."

"Thanks, Mr. Ratkin." Frank shook hands with Ratkin, as did Joe. "We’ll do our best for you."

Mr. Freemont gathered up his students, and they trooped outside, heading for the parking lot. Frank walked along with them until they reached the bus, then peeled off towards the van alone, for Joe had told him that their group was going to make another stop before returning to the hotel. This would be the perfect time to check out the key, Frank reasoned. He would try the downtown bus terminal first.

The elder Hardy waited until the bus pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the group’s next destination. He saw Joe watching him rather anxiously through the window of the bus, and gave him a reassuring wave. Then he consulted his city map, looking for the most direct route to the bus station.

Since the Parthenon was on the outskirts of Nashville, Frank found himself driving along open highway to return downtown. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find the bus terminal, he reasoned, but finding a locker that matches that key might take a long time! He increased his speed slightly, for an older-model blue sedan was tending to ride his bumper, for no reason Frank could see.

The sedan’s speed increased too, and now Frank felt a prickling unease, a sense of definite danger. He remembered the arrow setup in their room; the fact that he’d been knocked unconscious – and realized he was a definite target for someone.

Realization came too late. Frank felt a hard bump as the sedan impacted the van’s bumper. He fought for control of his vehicle, but he could tell the tires were skidding on the pavement, traction lost.

The Hardys’ van slid sideways, tilted, and overbalanced. Frank’s head slammed to the side, cracking the window glass as the van fell. When it finally came to rest on the edge of the highway, Frank Hardy lay unconscious within.