later the entire building was brightly lit. Joe saw Frank halfway up a metal ladder bolted to the wall. Directly above him at the top of the ladder stood Freed. He had a long wrench ready to throw.
"Frank! Above you!" shouted Joe.
As Freed flung the heavy tool, Frank swung out and away from the ladder, pivoting on one hand. The wrench dropped past him and clattered to the floor.
The catwalks were made of wooden planks, about four feet across, set on steel frames. They were arranged in a grid covering the whole floorspace of the soundstage, so that lights could be hung and focused on any spot below.
As Frank reached the top of the ladder, Joe was scrambling up to join him. Meanwhile, Freed ran along a catwalk, away from the Hardys.
"We have him cornered!" Joe said.
"Wrong!" snapped Frank, pointing across to the opposite corner, where another ladder was bolted to the wall. "Let's box him in. I'll cut across, and you chase him down."
The brothers raced in different directions. Joe's speed made him a dangerous receiver of deep passes during football season. Now he closed on Freed, who was alarmed to see Joe on his heels. Realizing he wouldn't be able to reach the ladder before Joe caught him, he turned onto one of the catwalks that led out over the middle of the floor.
But the Hardys were faster and in better shape. Frank quickly shifted to cut the gaffer off, and Joe raced after him in pursuit. Seconds later Freed found himself standing, his back against the catwalk's guardrail, with Frank on one side and Joe on the other.
Freed turned toward Joe and feigned a move in that direction, freezing Joe momentarily. Then he whipped around and ran full speed at Frank, ramming him hard with a shoulder. Frank was knocked against the rail, out of breath, and Freed tried to get by toward the ladder, but Frank dove and just caught Freed by the ankle, sending the thug sprawling on the planks.
Both were quickly on their feet, facing each other. Frank lashed out with a right cross. He hit Freed high on the cheekbone, backing him up a step. But Freed closed with him. He placed a foot behind Frank's ankle and tripped him up. Frank landed hard on the catwalk.
Instantly Freed was on Frank, shoving at him and rolling him. He was going to push him off the planks and down to the concrete forty feet below! Frank felt himself sliding toward the edge with nothing to grab on to.
But Joe came in behind Freed and got in a kick behind the knee. Freed's leg buckled and he lost his balance. Frank scrambled away.
Just as Joe was about to lunge forward, Freed pulled out a long and deadly-looking switchblade knife. Both brothers had to retreat just out of Freed's reach. He turned from Frank to Joe, stabbing out with the gleaming blade. Suddenly Joe darted forward, making the thug lunge. Joe then dove low for Freed's legs while at the same instant Frank hit him chest-high from the other side.
The knife went pinwheeling into the air, and Freed hit the deck with Frank on top of him. Cursing under his breath, Freed bucked Frank off and lunged at Joe, who had regained his feet.
"Not this time, Sam," Joe said, stepping out of reach and driving his knee up and into Freed's jaw. The thug collapsed and lay still.
Panting, the brothers grinned at each other. "The coach would be proud of us," said Frank.
"I knew all those scrimmages would come in handy someday," Joe replied. Then he yelled down, "Trish! Find a phone and call the police."
***
That evening after dinner Frank and Joe sat with their father in his office. They leafed through photocopies of Fairburn's old newspaper stories.
Before settling down to this chore, the three had exchanged their information. The brothers had told Fenton about their day, ending with the Bayport police hauling off Sam Freed.
"The fact that someone wants us out of the way seems to put Jim Addison in the clear," Frank observed. "That's what we told Chief Collig."
"But he said that there was nothing to tie Freed to
"Frank! Above you!" shouted Joe.
As Freed flung the heavy tool, Frank swung out and away from the ladder, pivoting on one hand. The wrench dropped past him and clattered to the floor.
The catwalks were made of wooden planks, about four feet across, set on steel frames. They were arranged in a grid covering the whole floorspace of the soundstage, so that lights could be hung and focused on any spot below.
As Frank reached the top of the ladder, Joe was scrambling up to join him. Meanwhile, Freed ran along a catwalk, away from the Hardys.
"We have him cornered!" Joe said.
"Wrong!" snapped Frank, pointing across to the opposite corner, where another ladder was bolted to the wall. "Let's box him in. I'll cut across, and you chase him down."
The brothers raced in different directions. Joe's speed made him a dangerous receiver of deep passes during football season. Now he closed on Freed, who was alarmed to see Joe on his heels. Realizing he wouldn't be able to reach the ladder before Joe caught him, he turned onto one of the catwalks that led out over the middle of the floor.
But the Hardys were faster and in better shape. Frank quickly shifted to cut the gaffer off, and Joe raced after him in pursuit. Seconds later Freed found himself standing, his back against the catwalk's guardrail, with Frank on one side and Joe on the other.
Freed turned toward Joe and feigned a move in that direction, freezing Joe momentarily. Then he whipped around and ran full speed at Frank, ramming him hard with a shoulder. Frank was knocked against the rail, out of breath, and Freed tried to get by toward the ladder, but Frank dove and just caught Freed by the ankle, sending the thug sprawling on the planks.
Both were quickly on their feet, facing each other. Frank lashed out with a right cross. He hit Freed high on the cheekbone, backing him up a step. But Freed closed with him. He placed a foot behind Frank's ankle and tripped him up. Frank landed hard on the catwalk.
Instantly Freed was on Frank, shoving at him and rolling him. He was going to push him off the planks and down to the concrete forty feet below! Frank felt himself sliding toward the edge with nothing to grab on to.
But Joe came in behind Freed and got in a kick behind the knee. Freed's leg buckled and he lost his balance. Frank scrambled away.
Just as Joe was about to lunge forward, Freed pulled out a long and deadly-looking switchblade knife. Both brothers had to retreat just out of Freed's reach. He turned from Frank to Joe, stabbing out with the gleaming blade. Suddenly Joe darted forward, making the thug lunge. Joe then dove low for Freed's legs while at the same instant Frank hit him chest-high from the other side.
The knife went pinwheeling into the air, and Freed hit the deck with Frank on top of him. Cursing under his breath, Freed bucked Frank off and lunged at Joe, who had regained his feet.
"Not this time, Sam," Joe said, stepping out of reach and driving his knee up and into Freed's jaw. The thug collapsed and lay still.
Panting, the brothers grinned at each other. "The coach would be proud of us," said Frank.
"I knew all those scrimmages would come in handy someday," Joe replied. Then he yelled down, "Trish! Find a phone and call the police."
***
That evening after dinner Frank and Joe sat with their father in his office. They leafed through photocopies of Fairburn's old newspaper stories.
Before settling down to this chore, the three had exchanged their information. The brothers had told Fenton about their day, ending with the Bayport police hauling off Sam Freed.
"The fact that someone wants us out of the way seems to put Jim Addison in the clear," Frank observed. "That's what we told Chief Collig."
"But he said that there was nothing to tie Freed to
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