Read Online The Clue of the Broken Blade by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online Page B

said grimly. “He won’t catch me with any more sneaky tricks.”
    It was an accurate prediction. Several more times Madsen pretended to be hurt, but each time Joe kept his foil raised defensively when he disengaged. In rapid order Joe made five touches in a row.
    Madsen objected to each one as off target, but by now the watching workmen realized what a poor sport Madsen was and booed him down every time.
    After the fifth straight touch, Cain said reluctantly, “Bout. Hardy wins.”
    â€œOn five fouls!” Harry yelled. “He cheated!”
    â€œYou’re the cheater,” Chet said. “The only two hits you made were by dirty play.”
    The blond man turned on Chet, his foil raised. Joe stepped forward, his raised also. But Madsen decided not to risk tangling with Joe again.
    â€œI’ll get even with you guys,” he muttered as he turned away.
    Joe tossed his foil and glove on the ground, dropped his mask next to it, and went over to get his coat from the workman who had been holding it for him.
    â€œCome on. Let’s get out of here,” he said to Frank and Chet.
    The boys said good-by to Emory and his men, then Joe slid behind the wheel of the Ford.
    They drove in silence for a few moments. Then Frank said, “We should definitely go back there at six and see who the archaeologist is.”
    â€œYou fellows can go,” Chet said. “At six I plan to be eating.”
    â€œWe can eat later,” Joe told him.
    â€œNot me,” Chet declared. “I need something to keep up my strength after protecting you guys!”
    Frank and Joe left Chet at a hamburger stand and returned to the construction site just before six. They parked a short distance away and crossed through a stand of trees edging the development. Halting near the housing area, they peered toward the contractor’s office.
    They were perhaps fifty yards from the sheet-metal shack. No one was around except Harry Madsen, who was leaning against the fender of his car in front of the office.
    â€œNow why would this archaeologist talk to Harry instead of the foreman?” Joe asked in a low voice.
    Frank shrugged. “The whole thing seems fishy to me,” he said.
    A sleek sports car drove up and a tall, thin, gray-haired man got out.
    â€œProfessor Von Stolk!” Frank murmured in surprise. “Now I’m sure his research in the library was not for an academic reason. That guy’s after Russo’s sword too!”
    They watched as the professor showed two sheets of paper to Madsen.
    â€œMaybe those are the pages torn from that book!” Frank speculated.
    â€œCould be,” Joe said. “Too bad we can’t get closer to see.”
    Von Stolk and the bulldozer operator conversed for some time. Then the professor disappeared into the wine cellar. He emerged a few minutes later, handed Madsen something, and left. Harry followed in his own car.
    Frank and Joe once more searched the cellar, but to no avail. “We may as well get Chet,” Frank said.
    It was six-thirty when they picked up their pal at the hamburger stand. Chet had consumed two cheeseburgers and a milk shake, and announced that he was now ready for dinner.
    The boys found a restaurant and ate. During the meal Frank and Joe described the meeting they had observed between Harry Madsen and Professor Von Stolk. Chet shook his head in despair. “No doubt this professor is on the trail of our saber,” he said. “But what possible motive could he have?”
    â€œWhat are we going to do next?” Joe inquired.
    â€œYes,” Chet put in. “Now that I’ve eaten, I’m ready for action again!”
    â€œLet’s look up this guy Steele,” Frank suggested.
    The boys paid their check and drove to 125 Port Street.
    When they arrived, Chet said, “This place doesn’t resemble the wine storage building, except for the ancient stone.”
    A second story with a peaked