Bonfire Masquerade by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

decorative balcony that was barely big enough to hold them. It didn’t look very strong to begin with. With the fire raging inside, who knew how much longer it would hold up?
    â€œStand still,” yelled Joe. “We’re coming.”
    We stood beneath the balcony. There was no way we could reach them, and it would be impossible for them to climb down while carrying those children. I had an idea.
    â€œJoe, if I get on your shoulders, they can lower the kids down to me.”
    Joe squatted, and I swiftly climbed up his back and balanced carefully on top of him. One by one, George and Frank lowered the kids down to me, I passed them to one of the bystanders, and he set them on the ground. Once that was done, Frank and George climbed down quickly. Parts of the balcony were already beginning to collapse inward as they descended.
    â€œWhat happened?” Joe asked. In the distance, we could hear the siren of an approaching fire truck.
    Frank told us what we missed.
    â€œThey’re gone now,” said Joe. “Darn! If only we had gotten here sooner.”
    â€œWe’ve still got a chance,” said George. “Quick, Frank, hand me your computer.”
    Frank gave George a quizzical look, but he did as she asked.
    â€œI slipped my cell phone into the pocket of the guy we tackled,” she explained. She pulled up a map of New Orleans, with one glowing blue dot.
    â€œThere he is!” she said joyfully. “This will let us track him in real time—at least until he realizes what I did.”
    Firefighters were on the scene now. Two rushed over to the children.
    â€œThings look to be in hand here,” said Joe. “Let’s go after the robbers before we lose them!”
    â€œWe’ll never catch up with them on foot,” I said.
    â€œOn it,” said Frank. He spoke quickly into his phone.
    â€œLenni and the Krewe de Crude are nearby,” he explained. “They said they’ll bring us bikes we can use.”
    We waited five long minutes, watching the blue dot recede into the distance on the map. It was torture. Finally the Hardys’ friends showed up with the bikes.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” asked Lenni, after Frank had introduced us.
    â€œNo time to lose! We’ll explain on the way.”
    The Krewe members had to leave, but Lenni stayed with us. We all hopped onto the spare bikes. Each was cobbled together from lots of different bikes and they were as heavily decorated as many of the costumes I had seen. The bike I was on had a unicorn’s head built between the handlebars, and a fake tail coming off the seat!
    George tried to balance the laptop on her seat and pedal at the same time and nearly fell.
    â€œHere, let me!” said Lenni. Somehow, she made biking while holding the computer look effortless.
    Soon we were in hot pursuit of the little blue dot. On our bikes, we were able to catch up with it ever so slowly. Every time I managed to get next to Lenni, the blue light was a little closer.
    Please , I said to myself, don’t let him find that phone! It was our only link to these crimes. Any other clues they might have left behind were just ashes now.
    â€œThere he is!” shouted George suddenly. She pointed into the crowd ahead of us.
    â€œWhich one is he?” I yelled back.
    â€œThe one with the mask!”
    â€œWhich mask?” There were hundreds of masks out there!
    â€œThe weird beak-nosed one. In the dark purple outfit!”
    I saw him. He was maybe two hundred yards away, in the thickest part of the crowd. We tried to ride our bikes into the street, but it was no use. We all hopped off and left them at the curb.
    George led the way as we burrowed deeper into the mass of people. Feathers and fake fur brushed up against me at every turn. My toes were stepped on, my back was elbowed, but we were gaining on him.
    â€œThere he is,” said Frank, spotting our quarry in the crowd again.
    Unfortunately, it