Street Spies

Street Spies by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

Book: Street Spies by Franklin W. Dixon Read Free Book Online
Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
tried to follow the gurney, but a stern-faced orderly blocked their way.
    "You'll have to wait here," he said.
    "But you don't understand," Joe protested angrily. "He's in danger. Somebody tried to kill him, and they might be back to finish the job."
    "Then you'd better alert hospital security," the orderly said, indicating the reception desk. "They'll have to handle it."
    Frank started to argue, then forced himself to relax. "I guess that's all we can do," he told Joe.
    "At least until Dad gets here." Joe frowned. "He still carries some weight with his old buddies in the police department."
    "Dad?"
    "Sure. I called him right after I called nine one one. He's on his way."
    Minutes later, Fenton Hardy entered the emergency room. He listened while his sons recounted the events in the garage. This time there was no way to hide the danger.·
    "I agree that we need to keep Gus under police protection," he said at last, and went to look for a phone.
    At that moment a masked surgeon came down the hall toward them.
    "Are you the ones who brought in the patient with the head injury?" he asked, removing his surgical mask.
    "We are," Frank said. "How is he?"
    "He's in a deep coma," the surgeon said. "I don't expect him to be conscious for several hours — he may never regain consciousness. We're moving him to intensive care. I'm sorry."
    As the surgeon left, Mr. Hardy returned from the phone. "We're all set. The police will post a guard outside the room."
    "The doctor says that we won't be able to talk with Gus until later," Frank said. His voice was grim. "If at all."
    Mr. Hardy nodded. "We've got to meet with Mr. Chilton," he said. "He was at a meeting when I tried to get him earlier, but he ought to be back by now. He needs to know what he's up against."
    It was almost nine when the three Hardys were finally walking into the president's office at World-Wide Technologies.
    "We've got a serious situation," Mr. Hardy told Mr. Chilton. "Whoever is responsible for stealing your designs has attempted three murders in one afternoon."
    Mr. Chilton stared at them in disbelief. "Three?"
    "Joe was the first," Mr. Hardy said.
    Joe's jaw tightened. "While I was downstairs talking to Tiffany, somebody packed my bicycle seat with plastic explosive. It blew up."
    "Talking to Tiffany?" Mr. Chilton repeated. "You mean, my daughter? Why?"
    The three Hardys looked at one another.
    "Well," Frank responded finally, "you remember that prime suspect we didn't want to tell you about? It was Tiffany."
    "You mean my daughter is involved in this thing?" Mr. Chilton's face was a picture of astonishment and outrage. Was he hurt or angry? Joe couldn't tell.
    "Not in the way we thought at first," Frank said. "It turns out that she was framed, and now she's being blackmailed. She helped us intercept another delivery to help get herself off the hook. That's when Lightfoot, one of the messengers, was nearly — "
    Then Tiffany's in danger as well," Mr. Chilton said, looking hard at Frank.
    Joe gasped. "Tiffany!" he exclaimed remorsefully. "We were so busy with Lightfoot and Gus that we forgot - "
    "She should be at home. Listen, maybe you'd better keep her there for a couple of days until - " Frank started to say.
    "No!" Joe broke in. How could he have forgotten? "She said she was going to work late, getting out some kind of mailing."
    Without a word, Mr. Chilton punched the speaker button on his phone console, then hit three buttons. The Hardys heard two rings. Then there was a sound like a switch hook being depressed—and then a different ring.
    "That's funny," Joe said with a puzzled look. "Sounds like the call's being transferred." , "Dad, I'm sorry about all this. Really I am," they heard Tiffany say at last. Joe leaned closer to the speaker. It was Tiffany's voice, but it sounded flat and distant, as if it were recorded.
    110
    Then suddenly another voice came on the line, a flat, mechanical-sounding voice distorted by an echo.
    "WWeee haavve yyourr

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