The Arctic Patrol Mystery by Franklin W. Dixon

yourselves,” he said. “I wanted to see what you would do in a difficult situation.”
    â€œThen you knew the jack was in the closet?” Frank asked.
    Mar nodded. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of cold water. Frank and Joe each gulped down a glassful.
    Now calm after their ordeal, Frank asked, “Was that the blond man you spoke to?”
    â€œRight. Did you see him through the keyhole?” “How could we! The key was in it,” Joe said caustically.
    â€œYes. I forgot.”
    â€œWhat was his name?”
    â€œHe did not tell me.”
    â€œHow about your crew?” Frank went on.
    â€œYou two, of course,” Mar replied. “I told you, you proved yourselves.”
    Frank and Joe nodded to each other. They would have to level with Mar.
    â€œWe’ll need disguises,” Frank said.
    â€œWhat for?” The old seaman looked surprised.
    â€œJudging from the voice of your visitor, he might be a member of a gang we’re after. We’ll get the third crewman, too, an Icelandic friend of ours by the name of Gudmundur. You can depend on him.”
    â€œGood.” Mar asked no further questions. “I will look for a suitable boat. When I find one, I will call you at your hotel.”
    The boys agreed and bid the seaman good-by. Even though it was very late, they stopped at police headquarters to find out if any word had been received about the missing Biff and Chet. The report was negative.
    Glum and disappointed, Frank and Joe returned to the Saga Hotel. They sat quietly in their room for a while, mulling over the entire situation.
    â€œI must confess,” Frank said, “that I’m still not thoroughly convinced about Rex Mar.”
    â€œI know,” Joe said. “We’re putting ourselves in his hands. If he turns out to be one of Musselman’s guys, we’re really in for it.”
    â€œOn the other hand, if he’s in league with Musselman, why did he tell us about this ‘illegal’ job to begin with? Why did he let us know that he knew Musselman, and why did he let us overhear their conversation?”
    â€œSearch me.”
    â€œWell, with Gummi it’ll be three against one on that trawler. I think we can handle the situation.”
    A phone call brought the Icelandic boy to the hotel early the next morning. “Any word from Biff and Chet yet?” he asked as he came in the door.
    â€œNo. But it seems we found the right Hallbjornsson.”
    â€œGreat! Now your official mission is over, and once you find Chet and Biff you can have some fun in Iceland.”
    â€œWell, there’s a complication,” Joe replied, “The fake Hallbjornsson is trying to get the real Hallbjornsson involved in a smuggling job and—”
    Gummi interrupted the boy with a gesture of his hand. “Now look, fellows! You gave me that story about being detectives on an insurance case, and I bought it. Now you’re overdoing it. I’m not exactly stupid, you know. Either you level with me, or I’ll exit right here and now!”
    â€œCalm down, Gummi,” Frank said. “We are American detectives on an insurance case, and everything we told you is true. But we got involved in something else—” He exchanged a quick glance with Joe, who nodded his agreement.
    â€œWell?” Gummi still had a suspicious look on his face.
    â€œWill you promise to keep it to yourself? It’s a top-secret affair concerning both the American and the Icelandic governments.
    â€œI’ll keep quiet.”
    Frank and Joe revealed everything to their friend. When the Icelander heard the story, he eagerly pledged his support as a crewman.
    â€œI might be able to help my country, too,” he said enthusiastically. “Are you going to tell the coast guard?”
    â€œYes. I’ll phone Captain Sigtryggsson and clue him in on our plans. He knows we are working on the case,” Frank