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wallets in the Hardy boys' hands while his tongue worked itself thoughtfully around in
his mouth.   Course, I happen to have a car I just might be willing to sell you. . ."
A half an hour later, the Hardy boys were rolling down the highway in a 1955 Buick
Roadmaster, with tail fins that seemed to reach halfway to the sky.
"I hope this will makes it Bayport," said
70
Joe at the wheel, pressing down as hard as he dared on the accelerator.
"Good thing we still have some, cash left," Frank pointed out. "We're going to have to
stop at every gas station on the way. This car must get about a hundred yards to the
gallon."
It was early afternoon and ten refueling stops later, when the car engine wheezed to a
stop. But by that time it had done its job. The Hardy boys were just four blocks from
home.
They climbed out and pushed the car to the curb. Joe gave it a quick final look. "This
baby is going to keep me busy for at least five months."
Just then a voice behind them said, "Man, Joe, don't you ever get enough?"
Frank and Joe turned and saw their pal Chet Morton. He was grinning at '"them, his
mouth stained brown from the chocolate triple-dip ice cream cone in his hand.
"Just this morning you drove by in that ancient station wagon of yours," said Chet.
"Now you've got another antique. What you plan to do, open up a museum?"
Frank and Joe exchanged quick glances.
"It was a bargain, I couldn't resist it," said Joe. "Hey, you guys want to go to the pizza
parlor with me?" asked Chet.
"Some other time," said Joe. "We've got a couple of things to do right now. Anyway,
what about that diet you were going on?"
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"Like you said, some other time," replied Chet. "I've got things to do, too, like try the
new peppers-and-pepperoni special." Chet patted his ample stomach with anticipation,
gave a goodbye wave of his hand, and headed for lunch.
"So our doubles arrived here this morning," said Frank. "Let's make it home fast."
But they had covered only a block when they were stopped again.
It was Frank's girlfriend, Callie Shaw.
"You're still in town?" Callie said. "When I saw you a couple of hours ago, you said you
had to make some kind of trip, so we couldn't see each other tonight. And why on earth
have you and Joe put on those hunting outfits?" There was a hurt look in her eyes. "I
know you're involved in a lot of mysterious activities, but you've let me in on them
before. What's the matter, don't you trust me anymore?"
"Look, Callie, I promise I'll explain everything as soon as I can," said Frank. "But not
now, okay?"
"If that's the way you want it," Callie said, and turned on her heel and strode away.
"Sometimes I wonder what you see in her," said Joe. "Every time we get a case, she
wants to horn in."
"You've got to be kidding," said Frank. "I wouldn't mind Callie's help right now,
except I can't see how anybody but ourselves can help us out of this mess. I'm getting
more and more
72
jittery thinking about what we're going to find out at home."
"Too bad Dad's not around," said Joe. "He could help us."
But Fenton Hardy, the-great detective who was the boys' father, was away with their
mother, Laura Hardy, on a well-deserved Hawaiian vacation.
The only one at home was the Hardy boys' aunt Gertrude.
When she saw the boys come in, a worried look appeared on her face-a not uncommon
occurrence. The smallest thing could set off alarm bells inside Aunt Gertrude-and her
nephews provided unending sources of concern.
"What happened?" she asked. "Some kind of trouble? You raced out of here just a few
hours ago without a word of explanation. And now you're back, wearing different
clothes."
"No trouble," Frank assured her as he headed for the stairs to his room.
"Just a little change of plans," Joe added, and followed Frank up the stairs, three steps
at a time.
Frank and Joe went straight to Frank's room.
"We've got to warn the Network," said Joe as Frank warmed up his computer. "It's a
shame we had to ditch that scrambler radio they gave us."
The Hardys had had to leave the radio behind while being pursued through the
Adirondack Mountains by followers of the Cult of Crime.
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"There's still the computer modem," Frank said, tapping the code numbers on his
keyboard. But the screen went blank.
"What the-?" he burst out, opening up the computer's case. Then his face got bleak.
"The modem is gone. Our twins must have used it and taken it with them."
"Then we have no way to get in touch with the Network," said Joe.
Frank nodded. "Not by electronic connection-and certainly not in person. If only they
trusted us enough to let us know where their headquarters are"
His voice trailed off as the computer's disk drives began whirring. "Hey, I didn't start
any programs.
"Get back!" yelled Joe as the computer went up in a blinding flash.
74
Chapter 9
FRANK'S CHAIR TOPPLED as he threw himself backward. He hit the floor hard, then
rolled to his feet.
Joe charged the rogue computer with Frank's bedspread in his hands, ready to smother
any fire.
But Frank had already reached the wall and pulled the plug, with a sizzle of electricity, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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