Hide-and-Sneak by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

didn’t even talk about Hide-and-Sneak if that’s what you’re worried
     about. As far as movies go, we were more interested in choosing a flick to go see
     tonight.”
    â€œCancel your date,” Frank told him. “I already talked to
     Chet. We’re spending the evening at Shipwreck Cove.”
    â€œAh, Frank—” Joe began.
    Frank shrugged. “I guess I could always get Tony Prito. We’re
     going to catch the intruder tonight.”
    â€œOoh,” Joe said, pretending to be wounded. “You really
     do know how to fight dirty. I’m in.”
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    The sun was low in the sky when Frank parked the van. They were well away
     from the front gateand close to the chain-link fence with the
     secret entrance cut in it. They had a bit of a walk to get to their destination.
    Chet started to complain, but Frank said, “We don’t want to
     make our guest suspicious by parking too close.”
    Joe shook his head. “I don’t know how you can be so sure
     he’s in—”
    â€œThere have been people in there all day,” Frank replied as
     they walked along the grass alongside the fence. “See? A couple of the
     construction trailers are already gone. Whatever’s going on will have to be
     finished tonight, before the whole place is disassembled.”
    They slipped through the slit in the fence and began looking for hiding
     places. The good news was that the afternoon sun had been hot, baking the clay soil dry
     again.
    â€œThe idea is to choose a place to hide that gives cover from someone
     coming in,” Frank said, “and going out.”
    By the time they were set up the sunset was at its peak. Frank had already
     warned his friends not to talk. The intruder shouldn’t know they were there until
     it was too late.
    Now came the hard part of the stakeout: the waiting. Frank found himself
     looking at his watchagain and again. The third time he really got
     annoyed with himself.
    You’re not supposed to be paying attention to
     your watch, he told himself.
    Frank scanned the area. Even though he knew where the others were hiding,
     he couldn’t spot them. Good.
    Chet’s head popped up, and he took a look around. At Frank’s
     hissed warning Chet ducked down again.
    Taking care that his own head wouldn’t be silhouetted, Frank went
     back to surveying the area. Nothing at the main gate. No suspicious shadows flitting
     around the remaining trailers at the site. Nobody heading their way across the roughly
     leveled expanse of clay. No one coming along the fence.
    Figuring that he’d used up at least half an hour, Frank allowed
     himself to check his watch.
    Thirteen minutes.
    He sighed, shaking his head.
    At that moment a pebble came flying down to hit Frank in the ankle. To
     judge from the direction, it seemed to have come from Joe’s hiding place.
    Cautiously Frank raised himself for another look. Although full darkness
     hadn’t yet fallen, it took him a moment to make out the figure picking its way
     along the fence.
    Frank picked up the pebble and flipped it toward
     Chet. The warning worked. This time he barely peeked out of his hiding place.
    All was ready. Just a little more waiting.
    The shadowy figure slipped noiselessly through the cut in the wire fence.
     Half crouched, the intruder looked back and forth. It was just dark enough outside that
     the boys couldn’t make out any of the stranger’s features.
    The trespasser rose slowly and took a couple of steps forward.
    Come on, come on, Frank silently urged. One more step . . . two . . .
    The dark figure finally obliged, setting off the trap. Joe rose from his
     hiding place and ran to block the way out.
    Chet jumped up, turning on his flashlight. “Hold it!” he
     shouted.
    Frank had to give their adversary full marks on guts. Unable to retreat,
     the intruder charged forward