The Secret of the Lost Tunnel Quotes

“Hardys ran Chet a close race on second and third helpings of Claude’s superb cured ham and pecan pie.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

“Presently Claude announced, “Breakfast is served!” With those welcome words, the boys and the general sat down to an old-fashioned Southern repast. Chet’s face was aglow as Claude served chilled cantaloupe, followed by crisp-fringed pancakes and broiled ham. Then he brought in a platter of fried eggs, a dish of raspberry jam, and piping hot muffins. Letting his belt out a notch, Chet asked, “General, does everybody eat like this in the South?” “They used to,” the officer replied, smiling. “Most people are in too much of a hurry today to enjoy the art of good cooking.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

“The courthouse was a low brick building that looked like a church without a steeple. Two heavy white columns stood on either side of the front doorway. Frank entered and asked an attendant where deeds were registered. He was directed to an office down the hall. In it was an old man, beside whose desk towered row upon row of thick volumes of records.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

“At General Smith’s directions, Chet presently eased the car off the highway and onto a rutted trail overgrown with weeds. There was no sign of the black sedan or any evidence that a car had recently entered the lane. “This was a fine place once,” the general said. “Those boxwoods over there are all that’s left of a wonderful garden which stretched from the road to the mansion. My father had pictures of the old place.” At the general’s suggestion, Chet stopped the car alongside a low, crumbling wall. “Look over there,” the man continued, extending his arm in a gesture toward a cluster of large oak trees which seemed to form a military phalanx. “That’s where the big white house stood.” The ruins of the old mansion were scarcely visible through the tall grass and brush, which acted as the scar tissue of time to cover the wounds left by the war. The four got out of the car and pushed through the weeds toward the area. The officer stopped and held his two hands parallel in front of him. “The steps to the front portico were right here. They led into the beautiful center hall of one of the most picturesque homes in the whole South. “And look what’s left now—nothing,” General Smith remarked sadly. “Nothing but ghostly memories.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

“Evening was casting long shadows on the square when they arrived in Centerville. The general pointed out several large houses which dated from the Revolution, then stopped to talk with two men lounging on the hotel steps.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

“Here’s headquarters,” the officer said as Frank stopped before a yellow clapboard house with tall, shuttered windows and doors, nestled far back from the road. “What a swell place!” Chet exclaimed. “I’m going to sit under this big tree and eat and sleep—” “I thought you were the official photographer on this mission,” General Smith said, his eyes twinkling. “Correct!” Frank agreed as they carried their luggage into the house. “Hup, two, three, four! Come on, Chet. There’s work to be done.” The general’s home consisted of a long living room, dining room, library, a kitchen, and three big bedrooms on the second floor. General Smith ushered the boys into the largest of the bedrooms. “You Hardys will bunk here,” he said. “Chet can have the next room.” “Pretty fancy bunks,” Frank remarked, eying the two mahogany four-poster beds and the silk hangings at the windows.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

“Mile after mile raced beneath the wheels of the convertible as it steadily neared the old battlefield named for the stream Rocky Run. Late in the afternoon they drove through the little town of Centerville. The main street, paved with red brick, was flanked by two rows of huge live oak trees. Behind them, quaint old houses stood in the shade of spreading magnolias. Farther on, the street led to a square, along which sprawled a handful of stores, a small stately courthouse, and a tall-pillared hotel. A solitary, bewhiskered man sat on the porch of the hostelry, smoking a pipe and rocking. “Looks mighty sleepy around here,” Chet remarked. “I think I’m going to fit right in with this life!” “A peaceful old town,” the general replied, smiling. “My place is a quarter mile down the road.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

“Osborne following. Chet brought up the rear with two large packages. “Surprise!” Callie called gleefully. The pretty, blond girl, a special friend of Frank for several years, took a big white cakebox from Chet and set it gingerly on the hall table. “This is a bon voyage party,” announced black-haired Iola, Joe’s favorite date, who was just as slender and good-looking as her brother was rotund. “Here. Take this bag, Joe. But be careful. It’s soda pop.” Frank and Joe carried the refreshments into the kitchen while Helen and Chet went to find the boys’ latest dance records.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

“As Frank opened the door, four laughing young people burst into the Hardy home. In the lead was Iola Morton, Chet’s sister, with Callie Shaw and Helen”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

“Joe raced from the house and hopped into the brothers’ convertible. He drove speedily toward Shorty’s Diner, located a few blocks away in the downtown section of Bayport. Reaching it, he hastily parked, bounded up the front steps, and pushed open the door. As the tempting aroma of sizzling hamburgers and coffee drifted to Joe’s nostrils, he glanced quickly toward the telephone booth at the end of the long counter. It was empty! Slowly a rotund youth sitting on a stool swung around. In his hand he held half of a triple-decker sandwich. “Hello, Joe,” he said. “What’s the big hurry?” “Chet!” Joe exclaimed.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

“Then, seeing a distressed look on Chet’s face, he added, “I mean after lunch.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

“balls. Those, and the stacked rifles, may have referred to the”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Secret of the Lost Tunnel

“Bayport.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Secret of the Lost Tunnel