The metal made a sharp creaking sound, and the car dipped from the force of Joe’s pressure.

  Frank kept his flashlight trained on the car on top. The back end began to dip lower. “Joe, easy,” he called to his brother.

  Joe eased up on the crowbar. “I’m going to have to use some force.”

  “I know, just take it slow,” Frank said as the car on top steadied. “Okay, try again.”

  Joe shoved the crowbar a few inches farther into the trunk and lifted, using a slow, steady motion and the power of his muscular legs. The lid of the trunk began to bend.

  “Easy,” Frank called to him.

  Joe kept the force steady, waiting for the top car to stop rocking.

  “Okay, Hank, here we go,” Joe said.

  He gave the crowbar another pull. The trunk door popped open. The second car lurched, and the one on top began to swing.

  Hank was struggling to sit up. He was moving too slowly. Joe dropped the crowbar and grabbed Hank’s arm.

  “Look out!” Phil shouted.

  The top car was sliding backward. Phil ran to the side while Frank jumped to help Hank. Frank and Joe got Hank out of the trunk, and they all fell onto the snow just to the side of the stack of cars. The big sedan slid down the back of the pile of cars and crashed, sending clouds of snow and dirt up over the Hardys and Hank.

  The top car was now standing on its end, its hood crunched into the frozen ground.

  “Let’s get inside,” Joe said.

  “What made you guys come here?” Hank said. He was shivering and walking with a limp, numb from the cold.

  “Someone came at us in your truck,” Joe said. “In the middle of the lake.”

  As they approached the office, Hank began looking around frantically. “Where’s Red?”

  “He’s inside. I think he’s been drugged,” Frank said.

  Hank ran into the office, with the others following along. When the boys got inside, Hank was already on his knees, scooping Red into his arms.

  “What did they do to you, boy?” Hank said.

  Frank went over to the half-eaten piece of meat. He saw that there was white powder on the meat. “He’ll be out for a while, Hank. It looks like someone sprinkled sleeping powder on this meat,” Frank said.

  “I hope he’s okay,” Hank said as he carried Red to the couch.

  “I’ll call the police,” Joe said.

  “Why don’t you heat up some cider for Hank,” Frank called to Joe.

  “Coffee,” Hank called out. “Black. Boiling. Thanks.”

  “Hank, who did this?” Frank asked.

  “Two guys. I saw them just for a second. They put a bag over my head and carried me out.”

  “They say anything?” Frank asked.

  “Just warned me,” Hank said.

  “Did you recognize the voices?” Frank asked.

  “They were kind of familiar, but I couldn’t place them,” Hank said.

  “Hank, any chance it was Ernie’s grandsons?” Frank asked.

  Hank stopped petting Red for a moment. “Are you kidding?”

  “No, but I don’t have any proof yet,” Frank said.

  “Honestly, I don’t want to believe that, but yeah, it could have been them. They’re about the right size. The guys were wearing black ski masks,” Hank said.

  Joe and Phil returned with a cup of steaming coffee for Hank.

  “The police are on their way,” Joe said.

  “Hank, can I ask you some questions about the lake?” Frank said as he got the map of the locations on the lake and showed it to Hank. “Do these spots mean anything to you?”

  “What do you mean?” Hank asked as he examined the map.

  “Are they good for ice fishing?” Frank asked.

  “You want to talk about fishing spots?” Hank asked in disbelief.

  “Ernie’s grandsons had this list of locations hidden,” Frank said.

  “You think it has something to do with all this?” Hank asked.

  “We’re trying to find out,” Joe said.

  “All right, then, let’s take a look,” Hank said. “Let me get my fishing journal.” He went to his desk and pulled out a tattered map of the lake from it. The map was covered with his scribbled notes.

  “Well, let’s see . . . no, no.” Hank looked at both maps side by side for a few minutes, shaking his head. “Are you sure this is for ice fishing?”

  “No, we’re not,” Frank admitted.

  “Because I sure haven’t had much luck in these spots. Some of them are downright treacherous. You see this one here?” Hank said as he pointed to one of the red marks on Phil’s map. “There’s a pretty strong current under there—makes the ice unstable. And this one gets a lot of sun late in the day.”

  “So?” Joe asked.

  “The sun melts the top of the ice and then it freezes again at night. That’s weak ice. Not worth risking your life for a fish,” Hank said.

  “So whoever’s using these locations has them pretty much to himself,” Frank said.

  “I’ll say. But no one with any brains would use them. Maybe in a cold snap, with light equipment, you might be okay,” Hank said.

  As they were folding the maps, the police arrived. The officers took Hank’s statement, along with the drugged slab of meat. They also took statements from Frank, Joe, and Phil about what they had seen out at the lake.

  “Well, if that’s it, I’d really like to get home,” Phil said.

  “Sure, we’ll drop you off,” Frank said as they got into the van.

  “You know I’m available to help,” Phil said.

  “I thought you hated the cold,” Joe said.

  “I told you I can fix the heat in here,” Phil said.

  “I meant the cold on the lake,” Joe said, and they all laughed.

  Frank drove carefully through the snow-swept streets of town and dropped Phil off before heading home. Frank and Joe went over their clues.

  “It’s got to be Neil and Stu. Who else could have gotten into the junkyard on foot?” Joe said. “There was only one set of tire tracks at Hank’s.”

  “Who else could have seen us on the lake in that snow?” Frank added. “I wouldn’t mind getting another look inside Tuttle’s shanty. We just need to think of a plan.”

  When they got home, it was late and everyone was in bed. Their folks had left the porch light on for them. As Frank and Joe came up the front steps, they saw something rolled in a piece of newspaper by the door.

  “What do you think that is?” Joe asked.

  Frank got closer. “It stinks.”

  “This whole thing stinks,” Joe agreed.

  “No, really—smell it,” Frank said.

  Joe leaned over and caught the unmistakable stench of dead fish. “Yuck.”

  Frank kicked the newspaper. As it rolled down the steps, it unraveled and made a jingling sound. A large fish fell out. There was a set of keys dangling from its mouth.

  “Keys?” Joe said.

  Frank took the keys out of the fish’s mouth. He read the faded lettering on the key ring: “Green’s Salvage.”

  “I think Hank’s truck took a dive,” Frank said. “It’s swimming with the fishes now!”

  14 Runaway!

  * * *

  “Let’s call the police and tell them about the keys,” Frank said as they went into the house.

  “You think Hank’s truck is at the bottom of the lake?” Joe asked.

  “That’s my guess,” Frank said.

  The police took the information and sent an officer over to the Hardys’ to pick up the keys and the fish.

  “We’d better call Hank,” Frank said.

  “Like his day wasn’t bad enough already,” Joe said.

  But much to their surprise, Hank took the news fairly well.

  “I’m okay and Red’s okay. I can always get another truck,” he said when he heard his truck was at the bottom of the lake.

  • • •

  The next day at school, Frank and Joe ran into Sarah and Phil between classes.

  “How are things with your folks?” Frank asked Sarah.

  “My dad’s still freaking out about all the stuff going on by the lake. Are you guys getting anywhere finding out who’s been doing all this?” she asked.

  “Yeah, we’re getting somewhere,” Joe said.

  “Can I tell my dad who it is?” Sarah asked, her face bright with excitement.

  “We can’t say anything yet,” Frank said.

  “I’ve been thinking about the other night,” Phil said. “Maybe we didn’t find anything because that snowstorm messed up the GPS readings.”

  Sarah looked at Phil as if he were speaking another language. “Well, good luck,” she said, before running off to class.

  “I feel lousy about her family’s getting threatened,” Frank said as he, Joe, and Phil went to class.

  “We’ll wrap this up in the next few days for sure,” Joe said.

  “We’d better,” Frank said. “Hey, I’ve got an idea about how we can get into Ernie’s shanty. We’ll go to replace the door to Rizzo’s cabin. That’ll give us an excuse to do some snooping.”

  After school they picked up a piece of plywood and then stopped at Hank’s.

  “Have you recovered from last night?” Joe asked him.

  “I was old and stiff before they locked me in that trunk, and I’m still old and stiff now that I’m out,” Hank said with a chuckle.

  “Any word on your truck?” Frank asked.

  “Not yet. The police are checking the lake,” Hank said. “So, is there anything I can do to help out?”

  “Actually, there is,” Frank said. “We’re going to do some looking around, and we need you to distract whoever is in Ernie’s shop. Maybe you could talk fishing with Ernie for a while.”

  “Sure. Whatever you need,” Hank said.

  “Would you mind if Ray Nelson went with you?” Joe asked.

  “Ray Nelson? Don’t you think that’s going to look kind of strange?” Hank said.

  “Who else would he learn ice fishing from? His dad won’t set foot in the area, and Ernie won’t give him the time of day,” Frank said.

  “Ray’s not such a bad guy and we may need some help out there today,” Joe added.

  “Well, all right, if it’ll help put an end to all this,” Hank said.

  “Great. We’ll give Ray a call and have him meet you here,” Joe said.

  With their backup forces arranged, Frank and Joe went to the lake.

  Frank parked the van in the dirt lot next to Tuttle’s Bait Shop. He saw Stu and Neil looking at them from the shop window as he and Joe walked down the sloping embankment to the lake. Their first stop was Ernie’s shanty.

  “Ernie? You in there?” Joe called out. “It’s Frank and Joe Hardy.”

  “What do you want?” Ernie said.

  Frank opened the door and saw Ernie hunched over one of the tiny trapdoors in the floor, watching his fishing line intently.

  “Close the door, will you?” Ernie barked.

  Joe followed his brother into the cramped space and closed the door behind him.

  “Is this a social call?” Ernie said.

  Frank and Joe looked around at the piles of junk. There were benches built into either side of the cabin. Joe noticed that the seats were hinged and had storage space underneath—making a good hiding place, he thought.

  “We came to fix the door of Rizzo’s shanty,” Frank said.

  “What’s that got to do with me?” Ernie said without looking up from his fishing line.

  “We wanted to ask you a favor,” Joe began.

  “Two favors, really,” Frank added.

  “You’d better ask quickly before you make it three,” Ernie said.

  “The truth is we don’t know much about these ice shanties,” Frank said.

  “Look around, boys. There isn’t much to them,” Ernie said.

  But Frank knew that Ernie wouldn’t pass up the chance to give some orders.

  “The thing is, we really want to do it right and avoid any trouble with Mr. Rizzo. If you wouldn’t mind, we’d really appreciate it if you’d come over and just talk us through it,” Frank said.

  Ernie took the bait. “I could teach you boys a thing or two. What’s the second favor?”

  “We were hoping you’d let us plug in our tools at the shop,” Joe said.

  “Sure. Stu and Neil can help you,” Ernie said as he reeled in his line. “The fish aren’t biting anyway. Help me up,” Ernie commanded.

  Frank helped Ernie to his feet, and he and Joe followed him out across the ice to Rizzo’s shanty.

  “What did you do in there, anyway?” Ernie asked when they reached Rizzo’s.

  “Someone locked us in,” Frank said, hoping to get some reaction from Ernie.

  “You boys shouldn’t be playing around in other people’s stuff,” Ernie said, giving no hint that he knew anything about the incident.

  “We tried to patch it, but as you said the other day, maybe it’s better to replace the whole door,” Frank said.

  “I’m going to take a look around and see what other people do about the hinges,” Joe said as he walked away.

  Ernie inspected the door to Rizzo’s shanty. “I never cared for what Rizzo did here with the door frame. If it was me, I’d make the door bigger,” he said.

  “We weren’t planning to change anything but the door,” Frank said as he watched Joe over Ernie’s shoulder.

  Seeing that Frank was well on his way to learning how to build a shanty from scratch, Joe walked back to Ernie’s shanty. He looked up the hill and saw that Hank and Ray were ready. Joe waved to them, and they entered the bait shop to distract Stu and Neil.

  Joe slipped into Ernie’s shanty. He quickly went to one of the benches and lifted the hinged seat. There was a tarp inside. Joe lifted the tarp, expecting to find stolen loot. He was disappointed to find only buckets filled with tools, a torn net, some hooks, and something that looked as if it might have been half a sandwich from the year before. But there was nothing the least bit suspicious.

  Joe opened the second bench. Inside was a steel ice bar, a long gaff hook, some broken fishing rods, and spare reels. There was even a metal detector, the kind people used to find coins and things on the beach. But there was no sign of stolen loot.

  Joe looked through one of the shanty windows and saw that Frank was still getting an earful from Ernie. He then checked out the other cubbyholes and shelves around the shanty but found nothing. He went to the door, made sure that no one was watching, and went outside.

  Before rejoining Frank and Ernie, he walked around Ernie’s shanty. In back, there was an odd-looking thing, like a huge suitcase, with two plastic halves. Heavy canvas poked out where the two pieces came together. It was a portable ice shelter. When opened, the two plastic halves formed the floor and the canvas hung over a collapsible frame. Joe saw that one of the two plastic sections was hinged so that the floor could open up for fishing.

  Joe wandered back over to Rizzo’s cabin, where Ernie was still explaining the art of shanty construction to Frank.

  “Now, I think you can build it flush instead of just slapping it on the outside,” Ernie explained.

  With Joe back, Frank could get on with the work at hand.

  “All right, I think I see what we’ve got to do here,” Frank said, hoping to bring Ernie’s lecture to an end.

  “Maybe I’ll just stick around and make sure you boys don’t mess it up,” Ernie said.

  “Let me get these measurements and we can go cut the wood,” Frank said as he pulled a tape measure from his pocket.

  While Frank and Joe were measuring the door, Hank and Ray came by with their fishing gear.

  “Hey, there, Hank. I heard your truck went swimming,” Ernie said as they walked by.

  “Where’d you hear that?” Hank asked.

  Frank and Joe were also curious, since they had told only Hank and the police about the incident on the lake and the keys in the fish.

  “The police told me when they found it a little while ago,” Ernie said. “Now, why on earth would you be driving on the ice down by Brown’s Brook?”

  “I wasn’t. Someone stole it,” Hank said.

  “Well, that’s what happens when you hang around with hoodlums,” Ernie said as he looked at Ray.

  Joe could see that Ray wasn’t about to take that comment without a reaction. He ran over and took Ray by the arm.

  “Hey, Ray, good luck fishing,” Joe said.

  “You’d better nail him,” Ray grumbled to Joe.

  “We can’t if you blow it,” Joe said, “so keep your cool.”

  Ray nodded and kept walking without causing an incident.

  Frank and Joe went back up the hill to get the sheet of plywood out of the van. They placed it on a pair of sawhorses that Ernie kept for repairing the canoes he rented in the summer.

  “What are you guys doing?” Neil called out from the shop.

  “We need to fix the door on Rizzo’s shanty,” Frank said. If hearing this had any effect on Neil, he didn’t let it show.

  “We’re going to need to plug in our saw,” Joe called over to him.

  “No problem,” Neil said pleasantly.

  “Those guys are something,” Joe said quietly to Frank. “Pretty cool, considering they nearly killed us last night.”

  “They’re slimy, no doubt about it,” Frank said.

  After Frank and Joe cut the wood to size, they each took an end of the door and walked back down the hill to the lake. With the door between them, it was difficult to walk very quickly. Frank slipped on the icy snow and fell to his knees. Joe grabbed the door.

  Frank looked up the hill as he tried to get back on his feet. “Oh, no, not again!” he cried. “Get out of the way!” he shouted to Joe.

  But Frank didn’t think Joe was moving fast enough. He shoved the door they were carrying between them as hard as he could toward Joe, which sent them both sprawling to the ground. Unfortunately, they hadn’t cleared the runway. They both looked up to see their own van rolling and sliding down the slope. Its aim was perfect: two Hardys for the price of one.