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, the internationally famous detective, was reading in the library of his home that evening when his sons tapped on the door.

Although he was a busy man, Mr. Hardy was not the type of father who maintains an air of aloofness from his family, the result being that he was on as good terms with his boys as though he were an elder brother.

"Come in," he shouted cheerfully, putting aside his book, and when Frank and Joe entered the room he motioned to a deep leather sofa near the window. "Sit down. What have you been doing all day? Burning up all the roads in the country, I suppose?" He grinned amiably at them and puffed vigorously at his pipe.

"Well, we didn't travel very far to-day, dad," Frank replied. "We were—well, we—we were—"

"Investigating," prompted Joe.