S4 E5 Mischief is Afoot in Chapter 5 of The Hardy Boys The Tower Treasure

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Good evening! Welcome to the Comforting Voice Podcast. I'm your host, Shasta Ray, and I am coming to you live, pre-recorded from just outside the birdroom in my home office. Different microphone, different headphones, different everything. Oh my gosh, I am really hoping that the sound quality isn't too horribly different for you guys. I needed to do this out of convenience. It will not be permanent, and then I'll be back to my old sound setup and we'll see how this goes. So I also have my old microphone, and if I can get that hooked up and working out here, I will do so. However, it's a different type of microphone, and the sound might bounce much worse. So, anyway, that's what I'm dealing with. How were you? How was your week? Have you had to do anything out of convenience that's kind of out of the norm and and maybe throwing you off kilter a little bit? Sometimes you just have to adapt. Remember some of those earlier episodes on this podcast, Lon and I talked about rolling with the punches, rolling with the situation. Sometimes you just gotta. Sometimes you gotta. Anyway, um, yeah, I don't know. I might sit here and mess around with the microphone as we talk. I hope it doesn't get too wonky on us. But here again, this is a totally different microphone, and the sound is gonna be affected. Not in a bad way, just in a different way. We'll see how it pans out. Anyway, I set up a super deluxe play area for my birds just right next to my office space, and so Murray and Baxter the cockatiels are sitting over here being cute, and they're being pretty quiet. They're kinda chill right now. Yeah, it's kinda nice to have them out here and behaving themselves for once. Usually I I tend to set up elaborate play areas, I give them toys, I give them food, and then they come try to find important paperwork and things that I need to destroy those things. Maybe they'll leave me alone tonight. My my mouse pad has suffered horribly by way of Murray's beak, honestly, so yeah, I hope they just keep playing. Anyway, oh my gosh. So uh this office space is not air conditioned, it is very hot, and I'm gonna kind of whiz past the chit-chat tonight and get right down to business. Alright, so uh what we really need to do now is engage in your sleep prep. Uh make sure that you're comfortable, you've got everything you need right at your fingertips, you don't need to get up and go wandering around looking for something or fidgeting with anything later. Make sure that your listening device is set at that optimum volume for your needs in the moment. And when you're ready, engage in a really productive stretch. Do it how you like, but I always suggest really get those arms and legs really engaged in a stretch down through your feet and into your fingers and toes. And while you're still engaged in that stretch, wiggle your fingers and toes really quick, and then release that stretch, and you're gonna feel all of that relaxation kick in immediately. It's awesome. Follow that up by taking your index finger, doesn't matter which one, and put it right between your eyes, about the bridge of your nose where it kind of dips a little bit, and you don't need to press very hard, just very light pressure. You can tap very, very lightly, or go in a very gentle slow circle one direction or another, whatever your preference is, or just very light pressure. You do not need to push. And while you're doing that, take a good deep productive breath of air. Inhale to about the count of four, hold it to about the count of three, take another quick little inhale to top off that inhale, hold it for another two counts, and then exhale through your teeth, preferably to about the count of eight. And then you can take your finger off of your face. But seriously, try that, people. I know you may feel silly at first, but give it a try. Rewind if you need to, but give it a whirl. You're gonna find yourself fall asleep quick. And even if you're not listening to this podcast, try that right when you lay down at night. You're getting ready to doze off. Go through that sequence really quick, and that's gonna kind of do this reset in the moment. It helps reduce stress, it helps kick off some relaxation, it resets your brain in the moment, and uh there you go, right? And you will be sound asleep if you aren't already. You might be sound asleep already from that. Sometimes it works that quick. Okay, so for those of you who are still awake, don't forget to check out the website, comfortingvoice.com, and don't forget to tell the others. It's the join the fun challenge. And oh my gosh, we just crossed over 4,000 total downloads. That's phenomenal for this little podcast. There's a lot of you out there binge listening. We just hit 100 countries and we are rapidly climbing to 700 cities. And it was one month ago that we hit 600 cities and started the Join the Fun challenge. That's amazing. Thank you for everyone that's participating. And if you don't know who to tell, if you're not in any social media groups, or you just don't know anyone that would be interested in a podcast like this, but perhaps you are listening in on Spotify or Apple Podcasts. Hit that like button or the heart or whatever they have, leave a friendly positive comment, and that's gonna signal the algorithms to start suggesting us to more people. That will happen organically just because you're demonstrating that you're liking the show. Thank you so much in advance. It's working, and for everyone who's been joining the fun, all of you newbies out there, everyone who's been with us since the beginning, I'm glad you're here. Okay, so this is our Friday night bedtime story extravaganza. We're reading The Hardy Boys, The Tower Treasure. It's the book that got the Hardy Boys all started. Wow, lots of fun. So thus far we've been introduced to Frank and Joe, and we have learned about their passion and their desire to be detectives just like their dad, as soon as they're out of high school and they can start going to school for something specific. They want to be detectives. So right about then, strange things start happening with a runaway car and a friend whose car is missing, and the mystery starts to unfold. But when the Hardy Boys and their friend went to report the stolen car, strange things were amiss at the police station. There was a witness, people didn't remember the right thing, and they were left feeling a little bit like they might not find that car again. So let's see what happens tonight in chapter five. Again, this is the Hardy Boys at the Tower Treasure written by Franklin W. Dixon. We're reading chapter five titled Chet's Auto Horn. Fenton Hardy, 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 the roads in the country, I suppose? He grinned at them and puffed vigorously at his pipe. Well, we didn't travel very far today, Dad, Frank replied. We were well we were investigating, prompted Joe. Ah ha exclaimed Mr Hardy in mock surprise. So my sons were investigating, huh? What was it? A murder? A plot to blow up the White House? A train wreck? Something big, I hope. Not quite that bad, admitted Frank. It was a car theft. Mr Hardy shook his head. I'm disappointed in you, he said solemnly. I really am to think that sons of mine would investigate a car theft. I thought you wouldn't bother about anything less than a murder. His eyes twinkled, and the Hardy boys, who were accustomed to their father's good natured banter, smiled back at him. Well, we weren't just practicing detective work, Dad, exclaimed Frank. You see, Chet Morton's roadster was stolen this morning. Is that so? exclaimed Mr Hardy, genuinely concerned. Why, that's too bad. Chet is mighty proud of that car, isn't he? Yes he is, and it hasn't been found yet. No trace of the thief? We found out he tried to hold up the steamboat ticket office after he stole the car. Mr Hardy whistled. Why, you have been on a case worthwhile. Tell me all about it. He settled back in his chair while his sons told him the story of the day's doings. When they told him the difference of opinion as to the color of the man's hair, he did not laugh, as they had expected, over the argument between Hardy and Mr Brown. On the contrary, his face wore a serious expression. It wasn't any ordinary auto thief you were dealing with, he said slowly. I have no doubt the man who tried to rob the ticket office and the man who almost ran you down on the shore road were one and the same. And the same man stole Chet Morton's car. But what about the color of his hair? There must have been two men, said Joe. Do you think so? I have my own theories, but the average witness is very unreliable. For instance, I'll give you boys a test. How often have each of you seen Superintendent Norton of Bayport High School? Oh about two or three thousand times, I guess, answered Frank. Well, what color is his hair? Frank looked blankly at Joe. Why it's um it's Joe scratched his head. It's brown, isn't it? I think it's black. You see, said Mr Hardy, smiling, your powers of observation have not been trained. A good detective has to school himself to remember all sorts of little facts like that until it gets to be a habit with him. Both of you have been looking at Mr Norton for about three years and you don't know the color of his hair. And if I asked you whether he was in the habit of wearing laced shoes or buttoned shoes, you would be stumped altogether. As a matter of fact, Mr Norton is bald and he wears a chestnut to pay. You never noticed that? He always wears buttoned shoes, and he belongs to the elks. His favorite author is Dickens. The boys looked at their father in amazement. But Dad, you've never met him. I've never been introduced to him, but I've passed him on the street a number of times. When your powers of observation have been trained as mine have been, it's no trick at all to take away a mental photograph of a man after seeing him once. And if you're specially observant, it isn't hard to notice such details as the toupee. A toupee never has the same appearance as natural hair. But how do you know he belongs to the elks? asked Joe. He wears the lodge emblem as a watch charm. And how do you know his favorite author is Dickens? On three separate occasions that I met Mr Norton, I noticed that he was carrying a book. Once it was Oliver Twist, another time it was a tale of two cities, and the third time it was David Copperfield. So I judge that his favorite author must be Dickens. Am I right? He always talks Dickens to us at school, said Frank. It's simple enough once you get the habit, remarked Mr Hardy. You must train yourselves to be observant, so that in time you will automatically remember the little details about people that you meet and places you visited. Now if Harreddy and Mr Brown had been at all observant, in spite of the fact that they were surprised and frightened, they would have been able to give the police a very thorough description of the man who tried to hold up the steamboat office. And if the man happened to be a professional thief, the description would have helped the officers ascertain who he was, because once a man has served a prison term, his description is kept on file. As it is, all we know about him is that he is probably red headed, and that's not much to go on. I'm afraid Chet hasn't got much of a chance of recovering his roadster, said Joe. You never can tell, remarked his father. It may turn up sometime. Perhaps the thief will get himself into trouble yet. Keep your ears and eyes open. And now, if you don't mind, I do have some reports to write up. Frank and Joe took the hint and left their father to his work. But although they talked long into the night on possible ways and means of recovering Chet's car, they were able to devise no plan for tracing the thief. And through the week that followed there were no further clues. Chet had given up all hope of seeing the roadster again. I sure miss the old bus, he told the hardy boys after school on a Friday afternoon. I have to take my chances on catching rides in and out of town now. Why, last night I walked halfway home before a car came along and gave me a lift. Saturday will be a pretty dull day for you now. Yeah, you just bet your sweet life it'll be dull. There's nothing to do but sit around the farm. Well, you better come with us tomorrow, suggested Joe. A bunch of us are going on a fishing trip near the dam. You could meet us at the crossroads near Willow River. Great, said Chet. What time? Ten o'clock. Hey, I'll be there. Gosh, I see where I can get a ride home. There goes a hay wagon and it's heading straight for the next farm. A long wagon rumbled slowly toward the boys. A lean and solemn farmer was perched on the front seat half asleep. The horses dawdled along. That's Lem Billers, the laziest man in nine counties, said Chet. Watch me have some fun with him. Chet took from his pocket an automobile horn. He had originally bought it for the roadster, but had not had time to install it before the car was stolen. The horn was a new type, very small, yet it had a particularly raunchous shriek. The hardy boys grinned as they saw Chet step out onto the road and swing himself lightly up on the back of the wagon. Mr Billers was bringing some supplies to the farm, and Chet was hidden from view by a bag of flour. As the wagon rumbled past, Chet sounded the automobile horn. It shrieked sharply and intensely. Mr Billers, being a lazy man, did not even look behind. He simply tugged lightly at the reins and the horses edged over to the side of the road. Having heard the horn, Mr Billers expected an automobile would pass, but when no car flashed by, he turned indolently in his seat and looked behind. The roadway was clear. There is no automobile in sight. He didn't see Chet doubling up with laughter on the back of the wagon, and he gazed doubtfully at the hardy boys who were standing at the curb, trying to conceal their smiles. I could have swore I heard a horn, grunted Mr. Billers. Then he tugged at the lines and brought the horses into the middle of the road again. Instantly the horn shrieked again. This time it was louder and more insistent than before. It seemed that an automobile was right behind the wagon, clamoring to pass. Almost automatically Mr Billers yanked the reins and the horses again to the side of the road, but no car went by, and again Mr Billers looked behind. To his astonishment he saw that the roadway was clear. Danged if I didn't hear a horn, he exclaimed, greatly puzzled. My ears must be going back on me. But in a few minutes the horn shrieked again. Frank and Joe, who were walking along the sidewalk, kept abreast of the wagon as not to miss the fun. They chuckled when they saw Mr Billers once more pull the reins to the side and the horses to the roadside. Then the farmer recollected how he had been fooled on the previous occasions, and he looked quickly around. But there was no car in sight. Mr Billers gazed down the roadway for a long time, and then he sighed with an air of one whose patience had been long tired. There must be something the matter with my ears, he muttered and drove on. At this moment a luxurious sedan swept around a corner and drew up close behind the wagon. There was a chauffeur at the wheel, and he sounded his horn impatiently, for the road was narrow and he was unable to get past. Mr Billers smiled darkly to himself and paid no attention. There it goes again, he grumbled. I must be hearing things. The wagon continued in the center of the road. The chauffeur of the car glared at him and sounded the horn again. Still the farmer paid no attention. Chet, limp with laughter, almost rolled off the back of the wagon. Frank and Joe could control their mirth no longer and leaned against a telephone post with shouts of glee. The chauffeur, believing that the boys were laughing at him because he couldn't get past, became purple with anger and sounded the horn again and again, and finally, when Lem Billers obstinately refused to pay any attention, he looked wildly about for a policeman. As luck would have it, Constable Conriley was ambling along Main Street at that moment, wondering if it would soon be supper time and hoping his wife would serve corned beef and cabbage that evening. He was aroused from his trance by the chauffeur, who brought the sedan to a stop and ran over to him. Officer, arrest that man, roared the chauffeur, pointing to Lem Billers. What for? demanded Con, taking off his helmet and scratching his head. Obstructing the traffic. He won't let me pass. I've been sounding my horn for the last five minutes, and he won't let me get past. Oh no, said Constable Riley. He can't get away with that, not while I'm on the beat. And with that he ran out into the road, shouting at Lem Billers to stop. At the constable's command, the farmer halted his team and gazed in amazement at the chauffeur and the officers as they came running up to him. Why won't you let him pass? demanded the constable. Don't say you didn't hear me, roared the chauffeur. I sounded my horn fifty times. Sure I heard a horn, admitted Mr. Billers. But I didn't see no car. Are you blind? asked Riley. There's the car. Lem Billers looked behind. At the sight of the sedan his jaw dropped. Well I be danged, he declared sadly. It must be my eyes going back, not my ears. I looked behind three times and I didn't see no car. Don't believe him, officer, said the chauffeur. He didn't turn around. I did so, contended Mr. Billers. Then why didn't you let me pass? And you didn't have no car. I heard a horn, but I didn't see no car. Thereupon the argument grew fast and furious. Constable Riley was vastly puzzled. He didn't know what to make of it. Both the chauffeur and Lem Billers appeared to be telling the truth, yet there was something wrong somewhere. He took it all down in a notebook, while Mr. Billers and the chauffeur grew angrier and angrier at each other until finally they were to the point of settling the matter with their fists. In the meantime, there was a steadily lengthening line of cars and wagons blocking the street, unable to get past because of the hay wagon and the sedan. A constant chorus of automobile horns sounded, angry drivers roared at the officer to clear the road, Constable Riley threw up his hands in disgust. Get on your way, both of you, he commanded. I can't stand here arguing all afternoon. And while Lem Billers, wondering whether his eyes or his ears had deceived him, drew his horses to the side of the road and muttered strong threats of vengeance against the chauffeur, the traffic tangle gradually abated. When he finally resumed his journey, the hardy boys could see Chet Morton lying limply in the back of the wagon with tears of laughter running down his face. As for Frank and Jo, they laughed all the way home, and during supper that evening, their random outbursts of giggles puzzled their parents extremely. So it seems Frank and Joe and their friend Chet have a little bit of an ordinary streak and like to have a little bit of fun. Oh my goodness. Now I can't figure out why Chet, this far after the fact, would have had an automobile horn in his pocket. And back in the 1920s, how could he have possibly had an automobile horn that was small enough to fit in his pocket? I don't get it. But it made for a good chapter. Okay, that's all I got for you tonight. We'll catch you on Tuesday for a regular Tuesday night ramble chat finish mash of goodness. And until then, sleep tight, good night, and bye bye.