Read Online The Mysterious Caravan by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online Page B

stubble poked through the fresh covering of snow. The boys had been watching the road behind them for possible spies, but it had been clear of traffic for several minutes. All at once, however, a red Ford sedan, traveling at high speed, pulled up close.
    â€œI wish that guy would stop tailgating,” Frank said. “If I had to brake suddenly, he’d climb right up my back!”
    He drove as far to the right as he could to let the sedan pass. It did, but instead of streaking off, it slowed in front of them. When Frank tried to overtake the Ford, he was blocked!
    â€œWhat’s the matter with that joker?” Joe asked.
    Just then another car appeared, as if from nowhere, and positioned itself behind them. They were boxed in!
    â€œWe’re in trouble, Joe,” Frank said. “Did you get a look at these goons?”
    The two men in the rear car wore ski masks pulled down over their faces, as did the driver in front. Their heads were covered except for eye slits and a mouth hole.
    Frank tried again to pass the Ford, but it moved out to the center of the highway and their bumpers banged. The Hardys were sandwiched in tighter than ever, and their tormentors brought them almost to a halt.
    â€œThey want us to stop,” Joe said.
    â€œNot on your life! I’m going to make a break for it!” Frank declared. They had come to a place where only a shallow ditch dropped off on the left side of the road. Frank watched for oncoming traffic. Now he had a chance!
    Turning the wheel sharply and flooring the gas pedal, he broke out of the tight formation. Their right fender crumpled for a split second with a grinding crunch, but the car broke free!
    Frank crossed the road, drove down into the ditch, and up the other side. “Look back, Joe. What are they doing?” he asked.
    â€œComing after us!”
    â€œI think we can shake them off.”
    The soft snow on the muddy field in front ofthem made driving treacherous. Frank drove in a tight semicircle, hoping to regain the highway and speed back to Bayport. Joe saw the trailing cars falling back.
    â€œWe’ve got it made!” he exulted.
    Frank fantailed on the mucky topsoil and headed at full speed for the road. The rear wheels kicked up a rooster tail of snow and mud, and the motor growled as he urged every bit of horsepower from it.
    But then—
slam!
    About a hundred yards from the side of the highway, the car stopped dead in its tracks.
    â€œWhat happened?” Joe asked.
    â€œMust have been a rock hidden by the snow,” Frank said. “We’re high centered!”
    â€œLook, they’re gaining on us!” Joe said. “The only thing left to do is to stand and fight.”
    The boys leaped from the car and got behind it while their pursuers raced up.
    â€œIf they hit the car, get ready to jump!” Frank told his brother.
    The two other vehicles, however, slowed to a stop and the three men stepped onto the snow. They approached the Hardys, who stood poised for the attack. Besides being good boxers, they excelled in karate.
    â€œWe don’t have the mask you’re looking for!” Joe said hotly.
    â€œWe’ll see for ourselves,” one of the men replied.After searching the car in vain, their leader said, “We could drop you both in the snow right now, if we wanted to.”
    â€œWhy don’t you try?” Frank said.
    â€œNo. We don’t want to hurt you. We want you to take a message back to your old man. Tell him to lay off his case! He’s not dealing with a bunch of stumblebums this time!”
    â€œSo, what if he doesn’t?” Joe demanded.
    â€œThat might just be the end of Fenton Hardy!” The men chuckled at the boys’ predicament and drove away.
    â€œNow what?” Joe asked.
    â€œHere, put your shoulder to the back of the car.”
    The boys pushed and shoved, to no avail. The automobile was stuck tight.
    â€œWe’ll have to go for help,”