The Shattered Helmet by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

difference does it make at this point whether the whole world knows?”
    At five o’clock Buster received a call from the film lab. The copies were ready and could be shown in the lab’s viewing room.
    â€œFine,” Buster said. “We’ll be over after dinner.”
    â€œAll right,” came the reply. “Mr. Simmons is going to stay late today anyhow. He’ll wait for you.”
    When Buster and the boys left an hour later, they looked cautiously about to see if anyone were spying on them. Only a motorcycle sped past. Nothing else. Still, Frank had the uncomfortable feeling that they were being watched. He kept looking out the car’s rear window all the way to their destination, but saw nothing suspicious.
    When they arrived at the lab, it was closed, but Mr. Simmons let them in. He locked the door after them and ushered them to a room on the second floor that looked like a miniature movie theater.
    On a small table in the back of the room were the two copies of
The Persian Glory
outtake. Mr. Simmons put one of them in a projector.
    â€œMake yourselves at home,” he said while adjusting the film.
    They sat in the front row on comfortable cushioned seats, and in a few minutes the old silent movie flashed on the screen. The Hardys realized that
The Persian Glory
must have been a high-budget enterprise. A scene showed hundreds of people attacking an ancient castle, then came a close-up of a young man.
    â€œEvan, that’s you!” Joe exclaimed.
    Evan laughed. “It’s Uncle Nick. We sure look alike!”
    Nick Pandropolos walked to the lead man who wore the ancient Greek helmet.
    â€œCan you rerun that shot?” Joe asked Mr. Simmons. “We’re interested in the helmet.”
    â€œSure.” Simmons ran the film backward.
    â€œThere! Hold it.”
    The boys studied the headgear. The top was rounded and a long piece of metal extended down to cover the nose.
    â€œCould you make us a couple of enlargements of that frame?” Frank asked Mr. Simmons.
    â€œBe glad to.” Simmons turned the light on, rewound the reel, and said, “Did you take the other copy of the film I left on the table over there?”
    â€œNo,” Frank said. They stared at the table. The reel was gone.
    â€œIt’s been stolen!” Joe exclaimed.

CHAPTER XIV
Surprise Phone Call
    N ONE of them had seen anyone enter the screening room. The theft must have been accomplished when the lights were out!
    The boys ran downstairs to the main floor. The door stood open, but by the time they reached the street there was no sign of anyone who looked suspicious.
    Joe and Evan went in one direction, Frank and Mr. Simmons in the other. They questioned passersby. No one had seen a man running away from the lab building. Half a dozen queries produced no results, but finally Joe talked to a man who was standing on the opposite side of the street waiting for a taxi.
    â€œYes, some guy came out of that building—a short, wiry fellow. He took off fast and kept looking back over his shoulder,” the man said.
    Joe and Evan thanked him and hastened back to the others.
    â€œObviously it was Kitten Cole,” Joe said. “He must have followed us somehow, picked the lock, and come in while we were viewing the outtake.”
    â€œMay I use your phone?” Frank asked Mr. Simmons. “I’d like to report this to the police.”
    â€œGo ahead.”
    Frank made the call, then asked when they could pick up the enlargements.
    â€œTomorrow. Do you want me to make you another copy of the outtake?”
    â€œYes, please. And thanks very much for your trouble.”
    Back at Buster’s house, over cups of tea, they pondered the new events.
    â€œI don’t think Dimitri and Cole set the fire,” Frank said. “They not only wanted to prevent us from having the film, but they wanted it themselves.”
    Joe nodded. “Let’s give Chet a call and see