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we'll go through with it," Frank said. "If you'll fix us up with some supplies, we'll be on our way. We're not afraid of bootleggers."

"Do as ye like," the old man returned, as though washing his hands of any further responsibility. "But I'm warnin' ye. It ain't no place if ye're lookin' for a quiet outing."

"The one thing we're afraid of, is a quiet outing," Joe assured him. "Excitement," he added slangily, "is our meat."

"Ye'll get lots of it if ye go pokin' around them caves," the old gentleman predicted. "Mebbe a lot more than ye bargain for."

However, he was prevailed upon to sell the lads a quantity of provisions for their trip, although he accompanied the transaction by a running fire of dismal comments on the unlikelihood that they would ever be seen alive again. When he saw that they were determined to go to the caves, in spite of his admonitions, he wagged his head sadly and mumbled a few caustic remarks on the stubborness of boys in general who would never listen to their elders.

The Hardy boys and their chums, far from being frightened at the prospect of danger at Honeycomb Cliffs, were elated. They were disposed to disregard much of what the old man had said—the perils were most probably exaggerated in the re-telling—but there was no mistaking the old man's sincerity and they knew