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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
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open. Just before he jumped at the figure stepping through, Frank stopped. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"Following you at the moment," came the reply.
It was Jenny Bookman, wearing a denim skirt and a dark cardigan. Her long blond hair was tied back with a twist of scarlet ribbon.
"You followed us all the way from Seattle?"
She shook her head. "I was following Dr. Winter," Jenny explained. "He's behind what's going on—and what happened to my father."
"Is Winter here?"
"No, he drove on into a town called Crosscut. But they had a roadblock and wouldn't let me through," she answered. "I came here to wait until dark. Then I'm going to try to slip into Crosscut through the woods."
"Fine, Jenny," Frank said. "But that doesn't explain one thing. Why were you tailing me?"
"I just got here and spotted your car in front of the inn. As I was talking to the old man on the porch, I saw you come out of the cafe." She paused, spreading her hands wide. "I followed and caught up with you here." She looked around the alley. "So what's going on?"
"I'm hunting for Joe."
"Joe?" Jenny's eyes widened in shock. "Has something happened to him?" she asked worriedly.
"I'm not sure, but it looks like the bad guys have grabbed him," said Frank. "He went out to get something to eat and didn't come back."
"You think they've taken him into Crosscut?" Jenny asked.
"I'm betting they did."
"That's another reason for us to go there."
Frank's eyebrows went up. "Us?"
"Don't you think it makes sense for us to team up, Frank?"
He looked at Jenny thoughtfully. "To be honest, I'm still not sure I can trust you."
"You'll just have to chance it," she said, smiling at him. "I'm the closest thing to an ally you're going to find around here."
After a few seconds Frank grinned. "Okay, we'll join forces." He held out his hand.
She shook it. "I can be a help," she assured him. "You'll see."
***
Joe slept through most of the rough ride. He awoke to find himself bouncing on the hard metal ridges of a van floor.
His ankles were tightly bound with plastic clothesline, and his hands were tied behind his back. A wrinkled red bandanna served as a gag.
There was nothing back here with him but three empty cardboard boxes, a dirty candy-striped pillow, and a banjo case. When the van bounced, all of that—and Joe—bounced too.
Stupid, Joe thought. I was really stupid to let somebody get the jump on me.
Twisting, Joe managed a look up front. The lean dark-haired man was driving. His husky buddy sat next to him, eating chocolate-coated peanuts.
"I don't want to hear about it anymore, mate," said the black-clad man. He spoke with a slight British accent.
"Okay," said the other one. "Except you could've killed him, hitting him that hard."
"Well, that's what we'll be doing with him anyway, isn't it?"
"Only if the Doc says so, Leon."
Leon snickered. "I really didn't hit our boy detective all that hard, Washburn. So save your tears. Let's drop the whole subject."
"Okay." Washburn ate some more peanuts. "Except the Doc gets mad when you kill somebody and he didn't tell you to. When he gets mad at you, he yells at me too. That's the part I don't much like."
"Enough," said Leon. "Just quit babbling, you great oaf."
"Okay."
Through the small oval back window of the rattling van, Joe glimpsed a patch of sky and forest. Twilight was coming on, the color was fading from the sky, and the trees were growing darker.
The van swayed, jerked, then stopped. "It's just us," yelled Leon out the window. "No need to flash your tin star, Sheriff."
Joe could hear Sheriff Yates's voice. "I've told you fellows before, it'd be a good idea to keep a close watch on how you talk to me."
"I'm shivering in my boots," Leon told him in his thin, nasal voice. "Do you practice that nasty look in the mirror every morning?"
"If I didn't have to put up with you, I'd — All right, I'll move the horses and you can squeeze by," Yates said. "This time see you don't
"Following you at the moment," came the reply.
It was Jenny Bookman, wearing a denim skirt and a dark cardigan. Her long blond hair was tied back with a twist of scarlet ribbon.
"You followed us all the way from Seattle?"
She shook her head. "I was following Dr. Winter," Jenny explained. "He's behind what's going on—and what happened to my father."
"Is Winter here?"
"No, he drove on into a town called Crosscut. But they had a roadblock and wouldn't let me through," she answered. "I came here to wait until dark. Then I'm going to try to slip into Crosscut through the woods."
"Fine, Jenny," Frank said. "But that doesn't explain one thing. Why were you tailing me?"
"I just got here and spotted your car in front of the inn. As I was talking to the old man on the porch, I saw you come out of the cafe." She paused, spreading her hands wide. "I followed and caught up with you here." She looked around the alley. "So what's going on?"
"I'm hunting for Joe."
"Joe?" Jenny's eyes widened in shock. "Has something happened to him?" she asked worriedly.
"I'm not sure, but it looks like the bad guys have grabbed him," said Frank. "He went out to get something to eat and didn't come back."
"You think they've taken him into Crosscut?" Jenny asked.
"I'm betting they did."
"That's another reason for us to go there."
Frank's eyebrows went up. "Us?"
"Don't you think it makes sense for us to team up, Frank?"
He looked at Jenny thoughtfully. "To be honest, I'm still not sure I can trust you."
"You'll just have to chance it," she said, smiling at him. "I'm the closest thing to an ally you're going to find around here."
After a few seconds Frank grinned. "Okay, we'll join forces." He held out his hand.
She shook it. "I can be a help," she assured him. "You'll see."
***
Joe slept through most of the rough ride. He awoke to find himself bouncing on the hard metal ridges of a van floor.
His ankles were tightly bound with plastic clothesline, and his hands were tied behind his back. A wrinkled red bandanna served as a gag.
There was nothing back here with him but three empty cardboard boxes, a dirty candy-striped pillow, and a banjo case. When the van bounced, all of that—and Joe—bounced too.
Stupid, Joe thought. I was really stupid to let somebody get the jump on me.
Twisting, Joe managed a look up front. The lean dark-haired man was driving. His husky buddy sat next to him, eating chocolate-coated peanuts.
"I don't want to hear about it anymore, mate," said the black-clad man. He spoke with a slight British accent.
"Okay," said the other one. "Except you could've killed him, hitting him that hard."
"Well, that's what we'll be doing with him anyway, isn't it?"
"Only if the Doc says so, Leon."
Leon snickered. "I really didn't hit our boy detective all that hard, Washburn. So save your tears. Let's drop the whole subject."
"Okay." Washburn ate some more peanuts. "Except the Doc gets mad when you kill somebody and he didn't tell you to. When he gets mad at you, he yells at me too. That's the part I don't much like."
"Enough," said Leon. "Just quit babbling, you great oaf."
"Okay."
Through the small oval back window of the rattling van, Joe glimpsed a patch of sky and forest. Twilight was coming on, the color was fading from the sky, and the trees were growing darker.
The van swayed, jerked, then stopped. "It's just us," yelled Leon out the window. "No need to flash your tin star, Sheriff."
Joe could hear Sheriff Yates's voice. "I've told you fellows before, it'd be a good idea to keep a close watch on how you talk to me."
"I'm shivering in my boots," Leon told him in his thin, nasal voice. "Do you practice that nasty look in the mirror every morning?"
"If I didn't have to put up with you, I'd — All right, I'll move the horses and you can squeeze by," Yates said. "This time see you don't
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