Frank nodded. “He really did, Dad,” he said.

  Fenton Hardy took a world atlas off a bookshelf, opened it up to a map of British Columbia, and located Hudson’s Hope. “It’s near Dawson Creek,” he said. “I say we notify the authorities there and have them investigate.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Dad,” Joe said. “I’m sure the reason that Darren called us is because he trusts us. I have a feeling that the police might scare them.”

  “Well, I’ve got a good friend who’s a private detective in Dawson Creek—Rupert Kitimat,” Mr. Hardy said. “I could telephone him and ask him to look into the matter, if you’d like.”

  Frank and Joe looked at each other.

  “Well, we sort of had something else in mind, Dad,” Joe said. “We have a school vacation coming up, and we thought that we’d fly up to Hudson’s Hope and look into it ourselves.”

  “After all, we have a pretty good record of solving mysteries,” Frank added, “and this one is personal, because of our friendship with Darren.”

  Fenton Hardy pondered the request for a moment. Finally he asked, “What’s involved here?”

  “I won’t lie, Dad,” Joe said. “There could be some mountain climbing.”

  “Mountain climbing?” Fenton Hardy said. He frowned at the Hardy boys. “How do you know?”

  Joe described how just a few weeks before the Wilkersons left Bayport they had suddenly taken an interest in mountain climbing. “They were up and down those cliffs around Barmet Bay almost every day.”

  “Now we think it was practice,” Frank added. “Something must have happened to them to make them believe they needed to know how to climb a mountain.”

  “There are a lot of mountains in British Columbia,” Joe added.

  “I don’t know, boys,” Mr. Hardy said. “I’m not completely sold on this adventure.”

  “It’s not just an adventure, Dad,” Joe said. “Frank and I really do believe that Darren and his family are in trouble.”

  “And climbing a mountain might not even be necessary,” Frank said, “but if it is, we would need to be prepared to do it—if it meant solving this mystery.”

  Fenton Hardy looked at his watch. “British Columbia is on Pacific Time, three hours behind us, so it’s not too late to call Rupert in Dawson Creek. I need to finish what I was doing when you guys got here, so I’ll do that and then call Rupert.”

  “I’ve got an English paper that’s due tomorrow,” Joe said. “I can work on that.”

  “And I have a few calculus problems left to do,” Frank added.

  “Okay. You guys take care of your homework,” Mr. Hardy said, “and I’ll let you know what Rupert says.”

  As Frank and Joe started down the hall toward their room, their aunt Gertrude was coming from the other direction. She was wearing her robe and had a strained look on her face.

  “What’s wrong, Aunt Gertrude?” Joe asked.

  “Oh, I just had the most disturbing telephone call from a old friend of mine in Wisconsin,” Aunt Gertrude said. “Her house burned down and the insurance won’t pay for it.”

  “Why not?” Frank asked.

  “Well, her husband hadn’t paid the premiums for six months, and she didn’t know about it,” Aunt Gertrude said. “She’s mentioned in several letters that he’s been getting forgetful about things, but nothing like this has ever happened before.” She shook her head sadly. “Now my friend thinks her husband may be in the initial stages of Alzheimer’s.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” Joe said. “It’s a terrible disease.”

  Aunt Gertrude nodded and started on down the hall toward the kitchen. “I need a cup of tea. That usually soothes me,” she said. “Good night, boys.”

  “Good night, Aunt Gertrude,” Frank and Joe said.

  Once they were in their room, Frank plopped down on his bed with his calculus book and finished doing all of the problems in the exercise he had started right after school.

  Joe booted up the computer, put a disk into the drive, opened up the file with his English paper, and, using his notes, started typing the last few pages.

  Several minutes later Mr. Hardy knocked on their door and came inside. He sat down on the bed next to Frank.

  Joe quickly saved the changes to the file, clicked the print button, and turned around. “I hope you’ve got good news,” he said.

  “Well, I think I do,” Mr. Hardy said. “Rupert was at home when I called him. I told him what I knew of the situation—what you boys told me, that is—and he suggested that he make a couple of discrete telephone calls to friends of his in Hudson’s Hope. He just called me back.”

  “What did he find out, Dad?” Frank asked.

  “Hudson’s Hope is a small town, but there are a lot of tourists there because of Lake Williston—so it’s hard to keep track of people who are just in town for a few days,” Mr. Hardy said, “but Rupert said that a family fitting the description of the Wilkersons has been in town for several weeks.”

  “Bingo,” Joe said.

  “Rupert was also able to get an address,” Mr. Hardy added.

  Frank sat up. “That’s even better, Dad!” he said.

  “That’s what I thought, too,” Mr. Hardy said.

  “So are you saying that we can go to British Columbia to find out for ourselves what the Wilkersons’ trouble is?” Joe asked.

  “I discussed that with Rupert,” Mr. Hardy said. “He’s agreed to be your safety backup.”

  “Safety backup?” Frank said. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that since your parents won’t be close by, there’ll be somebody you can call on in case of serious trouble,” Mr. Hardy said.

  “Oh, come on, Dad,” Joe protested. “Frank and I have been in tight situations before, and we’ve always managed to get out of them.”

  “I know, I know, but somehow I have a feeling this is different,” Mr. Hardy said. “In any case, those are the rules, and if you want to take on this particular mystery, you have to abide by them.”

  “I can live with them,” Frank said.

  Joe nodded. “I guess I can, too.”

  “Well then, I’d say that tomorrow you two should go down to Bayport Extreme Sports Gear and get some mountain climbing equipment,” Mr. Hardy said. He handed Frank a list. “Here’s what Rupert suggested. If you can’t find it all here in Bayport, then you can pick up anything else you need once you get to Canada.”

  Joe gave Frank a big grin. “We’re going to British Columbia,” he said. “We’re going to live that movie!”

  “Movie?” Mr. Hardy said.

  “We went with Chet tonight to see Thin Air, Frank said. “It was about mountain climbing in South America.”

  “And Dad, the funny thing is that we had been talking about how much we thought Darren would enjoy it—because of his family’s interest in mountain climbing—when we heard his message on Chet’s shortwave radio,” Joe added. “Weird.”

  The next day, Friday, was the last day before the school break, so it was hard for anyone to keep his or her mind on anything academic. In fact most of the teachers just let everyone sit around and talk.

  Joe was glad. All he could think of was what he and his brother would do once they got to British Columbia. In fact he could hardly wait for the last bell so he and Frank could go to Bayport Extreme Sports Gear to buy their mountain climbing equipment.

  They had asked Chet to go with them, but he said his parents had told him to come straight home so he could finish packing for their trip to Santa Fe, New Mexico.

  “I can’t believe that you guys will be mountain climbing and I’ll be going from one art gallery to another,” Chet said.

  “Really?” Joe said. “Why?”

  “Yeah, Chet,” Frank said. “Since when have you been interested in art?”

  “I’m not,” Chet said. “That’s the thing! I’ll just be carrying the paintings to our van.”

  “I don’t understand,” Joe said.

  “My mother has decided that she’s going to redecorate our house in ‘New Mexico’ style,” Chet said. He shook his head. “We’re going to have bleached cattle skulls on every wall, leather sofas that look like horse saddles, and… well, you get the picture.”

  “We’ll be thinking about you,” Frank said.

  Chet rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure you will,” he said. “Well, be careful. I’m looking forward to living your vacation vicariously when you get back—so don’t have any serious accidents!”

  The Hardy boys parted company with Chet in the school parking lot and headed toward downtown Bayport.

  Just as they reached Bayport Extreme Sports Gear, another van pulled away from a parking space in front and Frank expertly parallel parked the van.

  “Do you have the list?” Frank asked, pulling some coins out of his pocket to feed the parking meter.

  Joe patted his breast pocket. “Right here,” he said.

  Bayport Extreme Sports Gear carried equipment for almost every sport a person could name, and it was one of the larger businesses in Bayport. The show windows on the street held dioramas of each sports activity. Frank and Joe found the one that had the diorama for mountain climbing. It showed two climbers making their way up the sheer cliff of a snow-covered mountain.

  “In just a few days, that’ll be us, Joe,” Frank said.

  “I know. And I can hardly wait,” Joe said.

  3 Storm Warnings

  “JFK is this way,” Joe said, pointing to the green traffic sign above the freeway.

  Frank exited at the next right, made a sharp left, went back under the freeway, then made a sharp right. He followed that with a zigzag and another sharp right. “I’m glad traffic isn’t heavy at this hour,” he said. “This construction zone is confusing.”

  “With me as your navigator, you’ll never have any problems,” Joe said. He looked over and grinned at his brother. “We didn’t get lost, did we?”

  “Well, I’ll have to hand it to you, Joe,” Frank said. “The directions have been perfect so far.”

  “Plan for it to continue,” Joe told him. He leaned forward and squinted. “I think that’s the turnoff for long-term parking up ahead,” he said.

  “Yeah, I think I recognize the building—but we’ve never come in from this direction before,” Frank said.

  In another half block, there was a temporary sign pointing them to the long-term parking entrance. Frank turned onto the road, only to be faced with a line of cars.

  “A security checkpoint,” Joe said, looking at his watch. “Well, if this doesn’t take too long, we’ll be all right,” he said, “but if there’s somebody with anything suspicious, we’re in trouble.”

  Fortunately everything went smoothly and Frank found a space on the fourth level of the parking garage.

  Joe pointed to a sign on the far side of the building. “International terminal,” he read.

  The Hardy boys got their luggage from the back of the van and headed toward the terminal. After maneuvering through several construction detours they finally arrived and got in the check-in line for their flight to Edmonton, Alberta.

  Just as they reached the counter, the agent said, “Frank and Joe Hardy?”

  Joe looked at the young woman for a couple of seconds, then said, “Annie Wilson?”

  The woman nodded and grinned. “I haven’t seen you two boys since you were in junior high school!”

  “You moved to New Jersey, that’s why,” Joe said to their former baby-sitter. He gave her a big smile.

  Under her breath, Annie said, “I don’t think the people behind you are too interested in our having a reunion here, so I’ll just say it was great to see you, and I wish I had time to catch up on all you’ve been doing since I saw you last.”

  “We’re still solving mysteries,” Frank whispered.

  “And we’re on our way to Canada to solve another one,” Joe added.

  “I should have known,” Annie said, smiling.

  She quickly punched in the information from the e-mail confirmation that Frank handed her, looked at their IDs, which they gave her without being asked, and then handed them their two boarding passes.

  “You’re boarding at Gate F 10 in thirty minutes, but take your checked luggage to security first,” Annie said. “It was so good to see you two,” she added in a whisper. “You look great!”

  “Same here, Annie,” Frank whispered back.

  “Next in line,” Annie said.

  The Hardy boys waved good-bye, then, with boarding passes firmly in hand, they got in a second line to have their checked luggage screened. The process went smoothly until the passenger right in front of them was taken away by the airport police.

  “I wonder what that was all about,” Frank said.

  Joe shrugged.

  Frank was hoping that none of their mountain climbing equipment, such as the ice axes and tools and the crampons, would raise any eyebrows—they certainly looked like they could be dangerous weapons. But they were told they had to check it.

  As they headed for concourse F, Frank said, “My stomach’s growling. Do you want to get something to eat?”

  Joe looked at his watch. “Our flight to Edmonton will be boarding soon,” he said, “but maybe we can find something quick on the way to the gate.”

  They found concourse F, had their carry-on bags screened, and then headed for gate 10.

  “I knew we should have gotten something before we went through security,” Frank said. “Look at the crowds at these snackbars. It’d take forever to get something to eat.”

  “Hey, wait, Frank,” Joe said. He was looking at their boarding passes. “This is a meal flight—we’re in luck.”

  Just as they reached gate 10, the agent began calling row numbers.

  The Hardy boys got in line, and within just a few minutes they’d boarded the plane. And, as luck would have it, their third seat was unoccupied, so they were able to stretch out even more.

  After the usual preparations, the airplane left the terminal, got in line for takeoff, and was soon racing down the long runway.

  Everything about the takeoff was smooth—and once the plane was in the air, the Hardy boys couldn’t have asked for more attentive service.

  “This food is great!” Joe told one of the flight attendants whose nametag said she was Bonnie.

  “Would you like seconds?” Bonnie asked him. “The flight’s not full, so we have some trays left over.”

  “Well, Bonnie, my brother and I are kind of hungry,” Joe told her with a grin, “so we’d love some more of whatever there is.”

  “My pleasure—hang on a minute,” Bonnie said.

  The seconds turned out to be steak from first class. Bonnie had brought another attendant with her, June, to help serve and for just a few minutes, the boys felt like royalty.

  “Is Edmonton your final destination?” June asked.

  “No, we’re going on to Dawson Creek,” Frank told her.

  “Oh, that sounds like an adventure!” Bonnie said. “We’re on a turnaround.”

  “What’s that?” Joe asked.

  “This flight just turns around in Edmonton and goes back to New York,” June said. “We don’t have a layover.”

  Just then a couple of bells rang, summoning Bonnie and June to other passengers.

  “Call us if you need anything,” Bonnie said. “We’ll be back to get your trays in a while.”

  Joe looked over at Frank. “I think somebody’s jealous that Bonnie and June were spending so much time with us,” he said with a grin. “They probably rang them to complain.”

  “It’s too late,” Frank said. “I’ve already started eating my steak. They can’t take it away!”

  Joe took a bite of his steak. “Me too,” he said.

  Just as the brothers were finishing their second meal, the airplane entered some turbulence. The bumps lasted until they were almost to Edmonton, so Frank and Joe weren’t able to continue their conversation with Bonnie and June, who, along with the rest of the crew, were kept busy attending to sick passengers. A male attendant finally retrieved their trays right before the plane touched down on the runway.

  “Sorry we didn’t get to talk to you some more,” Bonnie told the Hardy boys as they exited the plane. “Maybe we’ll see you on a future flight back to New York.”

  “I hope so,” Joe said. He leaned over and whispered, “Save us some more of that steak.”

  “Okay,” Bonnie whispered back. “Have a great time in British Columbia, and be careful!”

  The Hardy boys hurried up the gangway and quickly found a monitor that told them where their Mountain Airways flight to Dawson Creek would be boarding.

  “C 22,” Joe said.

  Frank looked around. “Well, we’re in luck. We arrived at C 13, so we don’t have too far to walk.”

  “We don’t have a whole lot of time, though,” Joe said. “I don’t want to miss this flight. There’s no telling what’s happened to Darren and his family since we heard him on Chet’s shortwave radio.”

  Weaving in and out of passengers walking in both directions, Frank and Joe finally arrived at C 22—just as the flight was boarding.

  “It’s a regional jet,” Frank said. “We may not have as much room as on the flight from New York.”

  “It’s just an hour, so I can stand it if we don’t,” Joe said.

  They handed their boarding passes to the agent and hurried down the gangway.

  “There are a couple of seats together at the back,” an attendant at the door told them. “We’re pretty crowded today. An earlier flight was canceled.”

  The brothers headed down the aisle and took the two seats on the left-hand side.

  As the regional jet began pulling away from the gate, Joe tried to remember the map of western Canada that he had studied carefully as soon as they’d made the decision to go to Dawson Creek.

  Since the weather couldn’t have been better, Joe just assumed that the pilot would fly a direct route to Dawson Creek, which meant they’d head almost due northeast of Edmonton, flying over the vast forests of western Alberta. They were still just west of the massive Canadian Rockies, but Joe was sure that since he and Frank were sitting on the left-hand side of the plane that he’d be able to see some of the peaks in the distance.