The Short-Wave Mystery Quotes

“On both sides of them lay a dense forest of towering evergreens. Ice was forming along the banks, which in places were strewn with rugged boulders or rose in steep, rocky upthrusts. As the afternoon wore on, the wind grew stronger and more bitter. Dark clouds closed in from the northwest. René muttered, “The snow, she come soon, I think.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“Soon after the Gordons left, Frank and Joe gave Aunt Gertrude a final hug and set off for the airport with their father. Their route included Toronto, then over a vast, lonely, region, splashed with lakes and carpeted with spruce. The plane landed briefly at Sudbury, where the boys glimpsed the white domes of a radar station standing out against the night sky. Two hours after leaving Toronto, they set down near the rugged mining town of Timmins. They registered at a hotel for the night and arranged by telephone for a bush pilot to fly them on to Lake Okemow. At daybreak the two sleuths were up and breakfasting on a hearty meal of Canadian bacon, eggs, and fried potatoes. Then they taxied off in a four-seater amphibian. The flight proved to be bumpy. Below lay a dense wilderness of black spruce, poplar, birch, and tamarack. Glittering lakes and snakelike streams slashed the forest. Farther north came barren patches, frosted white with snow. Then again they were flying over heavy timber. “Here we are!” the pilot said at last. He brought the plane down to a choppy landing on the not-yet-frozen lake and taxied to a wooden pier. On the shore lay the stout log hunting lodge. Smoke feathered from its chimney.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“Mr. Hardy had already booked two seats on a one-thirty airline flight. The boys drove to the airport, left their convertible in the parking lot, and were soon boarding a sleek jet. An hour later it landed at the Philadelphia airfield. Frank and Joe caught a taxi to the modernistic plant of the Noltan Medical Company. Mr. Noltan, a burly man in a tweed suit, greeted them with a firm handshake.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“That afternoon Chet manned the attic transmitter while Frank and Joe cruised around the outskirts of Bayport in their convertible. “Where are you now?” Chet called from the house. “Rockcrest Drive near the foot of Mound Road,” Joe radioed. “How’s my signal?” “You’re S-9,” Joe said, indicating that Chet was coming through at maximum signal strength. “Okay, keep going around those western hills,” Chet replied. “Give me another reading when you get down by Surprise Lake.” Minutes later Joe reported, “Now your signal’s dropped off to S-4.” “Roger. Try me again when you get near Highway 10.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“The following afternoon Frank and Joe left school at one o’clock. They stopped at their house to get Afron’s address from Aunt Gertrude, then drove to the airport. Two hours later their plane was touching down at LaGuardia Field. After riding to the East Side Air Terminal in Manhattan, the brothers walked to Forty-second Street and caught a crosstown bus. “Wonder if we should have phoned first to make sure Afron’s in,” Joe murmured. Frank shook his head. “Better to catch him off-guard, I’d say. Then if he does know anything about Batter or the gang, he’ll have no time to cover up, or invent a story.” They got off the bus at the Avenue of the Americas and walked quickly to their destination in the West Forties. The address proved to be a small, grimy-looking office building. “Not a very classy place for a wealthy decorator to have his studio,” Joe said in surprise. Inside, they consulted the wall directory, listing the firms with offices in the building. Afron’s name was not among them. Frank turned to the uniformed elevator dispatcher who was standing nearby at his post in the lobby. “Could you tell us the office number of Afron Business Décor, please?” “Afron Business Décor?” The dispatcher frowned and shrugged. “Never heard of it. There’s no such outfit in this building.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“The Morton farmhouse was aglow with light, and gay dance music from Iola’s hi-fi came throbbing out on the crisp night air. As the Hardys’ convertible pulled up, Chet popped onto the veranda to greet the three latecomers. “Hey! What kept you guys so long? Iola and Callie wouldn’t even let me serve the food till you got here! You want me to starve to death?”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“Reaching Elm Street, Frank garaged the car and they went into the house. Aunt Gertrude was testing a roast chicken in the oven. “Humph! About time you three were getting home!” she said severely. “I was beginning to think this bird might go to waste.” “No danger.” Fenton Hardy grinned. “If the boys aren’t hungry, I’ll eat it all myself.” “Who said we aren’t hungry?” Joe retorted, sniffing the delicious aroma. “Mmm! Aunt Gertrude, you sure know how to cook poultry.” “Never mind buttering me up,” she said. “You boys had a phone call, by the way.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“Biff Hooper, a high school chum, had recently taken a weekend job as watchman at an electronics company. Its factory was located near Willow River outside Bayport.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“Frank glanced at his wristwatch. “Sufferin’ snakes! We’re almost late for class!” With a roar of exhaust, the convertible headed for Bayport High School. Not until they returned home that afternoon were the Hardys able to resume work on the code message.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“Roundtree’s Taxidermy Shop was as dark as a cave and twice as mysterious. From the shadows of its dim interior, white fangs and sharp claws gleamed menacingly at the two boys. Near the door, a huge grizzly bear reared on its hind legs as if ready to pounce on any customer who caused its master displeasure. Mr. Roundtree, a short, plump man, shuffled about in flapping slippers. As the boys entered, he was completing the sale of a mounted wolf’s head to a man in a tan raincoat and slouch hat. Joe glanced curiously at the animal, then turned with Chet to a display case of glass eyes.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“Frank parked the car at a drugstore and the two boys hurried to a telephone booth inside. Leafing through the Bayport directory, they soon found the attorney’s residential listing.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“When they reached home, Frank and Joe found that Aunt Gertrude had retired early. “Guess we’ll have to rustle up our own snack,” Frank said. He heated cups of cocoa while Joe made man-sized ham sandwiches.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“Not until after supper were the Hardys able to drive out to the Batter estate. The high, gabled mansion loomed starkly against the sky, silvered by moonlight. A broken porch rail and dark, blank windows gave it a sinister look. “Spooky-looking layout,” Joe muttered. “It’s a cinch no one’s taking care of the place.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“On Sunday, after church, Aunt Gertrude said good-by to her nephews and went off with a ladies’ group to visit sick members of the congregation. The boys were alone in the house when the telephone rang. Frank answered and was delighted to hear his father’s voice. “Dad! What a swell surprise! Where are you?” “At Bayport Airport, son. Just landed from Paris this morning and then hopped a plane from New York. Think you and Joe could pick me up?” “You bet. We’ll be there in a jiffy!” Fifteen minutes later the tall, broad-shouldered investigator was embracing his two sons. “Boy, you look great, Dad!” Joe said. “How’d you make out on your case in Europe?” “Tell you about it later. Right now I could use some of Aunt Gertrude’s home cooking.” “You’re out of luck,” Frank said. “She won’t be home until three o’clock.” Mr. Hardy chuckled wryly. “In that case I’ll settle for ham and eggs at the nearest diner.” After stowing their father’s luggage in the trunk of the convertible, the boys took him to a roadside restaurant just outside Bayport. Soon the three were settled in a comfortable booth, enjoying their meal.”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“Come on to the Hot Rocket,” Chet said, “and I’ll stand treat for hamburgers and malts.” Joe looked at his brother in surprise and burst out laughing. “Wow! We don’t get an offer like that every day! It’s a deal, pal!”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery

“The Batter estate proved to be a dark old Victorian mansion, set among wide grounds fringed with oak and beech trees. A number of people were wandering about the lawn, but most of the crowd was clustered near a large stable-garage where the auctioneer had set up his platform. As Frank and Joe found a parking place at one side of the gravel driveway, they could see him holding up an elaborate lamp. “Eight dollars, ladies and gentlemen! Do I hear a bid for nine? ... Nine, anyone?” “We should have brought Aunt Gertrude,” Frank said. “Bet she would have loved this!”
― Franklin W. Dixon, The Short-Wave Mystery