Read Online The Sting of the Scorpion by Franklin W. Dixon - Free Book Online

would by taxi.”
    A ripple of gasps and excited remarks ran through the throng of pedestrians, and the boys suddenly noticed people stopping to stare skyward.
    â€œHey, look!” Joe exclaimed.
    A sleek, silvery airship was gliding majestically over Manhattan !
    â€œThe Safari Queen!” said Frank.
    Awed, excited comments could be heard all around them.
    â€œI’ll bet Quinn sent her here to prove that nothing serious happened yesterday,” the older Hardy boy guessed, “and to show everyone his dirigible’s as good as ever.”
    â€œIf that’s his idea, it’s working,” Joe said. “Listen to the way everyone’s admiring her.”
    The words were hardly out of his mouth when two baby blimps suddenly soared up into view.
    â€œHey! Where’d they come from?” Joe asked.
    â€œA skyscraper up ahead,” said Frank. “They must have been berthed on the roof.”
    â€œThe two mini-airships headed straight for the Safari Queen. They looped and swooped and maneuvered about the larger craft like baby whales frolicking around their mother. The sidewalk observers chortled with delight at the spectacle.
    â€œWhat a show!” Joe chuckled.
    â€œI doubt if the Queen’s pilot appreciates their company,” said Frank. “But the crowd really goes for it. I wonder who thought this one up?”
    â€œI don’t know, but I intend to get some pictures while the show’s on!” Joe took his miniature camera from his pocket and began snapping photographs rapidly.
    The boys finally walked on as the dirigible sailed southeast toward Brooklyn and Long Island. At the Jarman building, they took the elevator to the industrialist’s penthouse office. A smiling, beautifully dressed secretary ushered them in.
    Jarman was a tall, intense-looking man with long dark hair and a hawklike profile—the perfect picture of a hard-driving business executive. He got up from behind his huge modem desk to shake hands with Frank and Joe.
    â€œGlad you fellows could come. I’m sorry I was out when you returned my call yesterday.”
    â€œWhat was it you wanted to see us about, Mr. Jarman?” Frank asked when they were all seated.
    â€œMy security department’s been in touch with the FBI about the activities of those confounded terrorists, the Scorpio gang,” Jarman explained. “I gather you Hardys are working on the case.”
    â€œDad is, sir. We’re helping unofficially,” Frank replied.
    â€œThat’s good enough for me. From what I’ve heard about you two, your ‘unofficial help’ is often mighty effective.”
    â€œDid you want us to investigate something, Mr. Jarman?” Joe inquired.
    â€œYes,” the businessman said emphatically. “If you’re not already working full time to run down those terrorists, I’ll pay you to do so.”
    â€œThank you, sir, but there’s no need for that,” said Frank. “In fact, I doubt if it would be right for us to accept such an assignment from you, since Dad’s already in charge of the case. But, as I say, we’re working with him, and Joe and I intend to do all we can to help catch the Scorpio gang. May I ask what your interest is in the case?”

    â€œI wonder who thought this one up?” Frank asked.
    â€œJarman Ventures is a vast corporation. We do business in many fields, and we’ve already had several brushes with terrorists. But that’s not all.” Jarman clipped off the end of a long cigar, lit it, and eyed the boys with a thoughtful frown as he blew out a cloud of smoke. “I’m sure any thing I tell you will be kept confidential.”
    Frank and Joe nodded. “Of course.”
    â€œThe fact is, Jarman Ventures is moving into the lighter-than-air field.”
    â€œYou’re building a dirigible yourself?” Joe asked with keen interest.
    The businessman nodded. “My aircraft