What a wasted night, Frank Hardy thought. Not a single person he was suppose to talk to had been home. He had been driving around Riverton for three hours, not checking off any of the eight addresses on his list. He looked at his watch. It was already past 10:30 and he still had an hour's drive home. Having to do a repeat performance the next day was not how he envisioned spending his Saturday.

He wondered if his brother, Joe, had any better luck. Mr. Collins had suggested they split the list in half, Frank going to Riverton and Joe staying in Bayport. This was not their usual type of case. For one thing, Mr. Collins had sought them out specifically. Mostly they just fell into their cases. Second, this case was plain old legwork. Well, if they stayed in the business after they finished school, they'd get a lot of that. When their father, Fenton Hardy, left the New York City police department and started his own detective agency, eighty percent of his cases had been like that. Now he hired other operatives--or his sons--to do this sort of leg work.

Despite their ages, Frank 18 and Joe a year younger, the two brothers had solved many mysteries on their own. Frank, 6ft 1in tall with brown hair and brown eyes, was highly intelligent, methodical, and a student of the martial arts. Joe, on the other hand, was an inch shorter with blond hair and blue eyes and more muscular than Frank. He was more the street fighter type and a lot more impulsive.

* * * *

The night before they had been in Frank's room studying when they heard the doorbell. Their father was out of town and their mother and Aunt Gertrude, their father's older sister who lived with them, were at a movie preview they had been given free tickets for. Joe jumped up and ran down to answer.

A small, middle age man holding a briefcase stood on the porch. "Frank or Joe Hardy," he inquired.

"I'm Joe. That's Frank," Joe answered, indicating behind him as Frank came down the stairs.

"Nice to meet you boys. My name is Collins. I've heard about you and I am hoping you might help me with a little problem."

"What is it you need help with, Mr. Collins?" Frank asked after inviting him into the living room and they were all seated.

"Do you remember hearing about Macklin Mills closing down three months ago?"

"Yes," Frank answered. "Wasn't there a lot of controversy about safety violations?"

"Yes. The state had given them six months to clean up the mill and correct the violations, but the owners decided that getting everything up to code would be too expensive and closed the place. Not long afterward the mill burned to the ground. Although arson was suspected, it was never proven and the owners collected the insurance."

"So, you want us to prove it was arson?" Joe asked excitedly.

"No, I'm not interested in the insurance, I'm a lawyer. I represent some of the workers who are suing the company for injuries they incurred due to the safety hazards. Injuries they reported, but were never reimbursed for medical expenses or time off. Since the mill has burned down, there is no longer any physical evidence of the safety violations."

What Mr. Collins needed--inexpensively, since most his of his clients were currently out of work--was someone to talk to former employees and get statements about the conditions there. He went over some of the types of questions he needed asked and documented.

Frank looked at Joe for his input. It sounded boring, but Mr. Collins had said his clients really needed those statements for their case and couldn't afford to pay for this kind of help. It probably wouldn't take more than a few evenings. Joe nodded his okay.

"We'll be glad to help you, Mr. Collins. Would this involve testifying at a hearing when the suit is brought to court?"

"We're hoping with the statements, things can be settled out of court. However, if it isn't, the people you get statements from may be asked to testify. You can mention that to them."

The mill was located halfway between Riverton and Bayport, so there were former employees in both towns. He took a pile of papers out of his briefcase and handed a sheet to Frank and one to Joe. "These are the people we need you to talk to. One list is for Riverton, one for Bayport," he said, still shuffling through papers. "Wait a minute. I think I've given you the wrong paper." He reached for the sheet Frank had and extended another one out. Frank swapped papers and saw he had the Riverton list.

"I know boys your age usually have plans for Friday night, but if you could start tomorrow evening, it would be a great help? I have to admit I've left this a little late. We need these statements by next week," Collins implored. "Here is my business card," he finished, again reaching into his briefcase. A look of consternation crossed his face as he searched through it. "I'm sorry, I must have given out my last one. Please, do you have a sheet of paper? I'll give you my office address and phone number."

* * * *

Frank arrived home just before midnight. He found Joe still up waiting for him. "How'd it go with you?" he asked.

"Not a single statement. I only talked to one person, an apartment manager who told me he'd never heard of the person I was looking for. Half the addresses were bogus," Joe said with a hint of frustration and anger. "How 'bout you?"

"All my addresses were real, but there was no one home at any of them. I didn't talk to anyone." He looked at Joe speculatively. "There was something funny about my list, though. All the addresses were in very well-to-do neighborhoods. Not the kind of places I'd expect mill workers to be living."

"Do you get a feeling something fishy is going on here?"

"Yea, about three hours ago, after the fifth house I stopped at," Frank replied. "But I have no idea what. Was everything all right when you got home? Do you think it might have been a ruse to make sure we were away from the house?"

"Everything seemed okay when I got in. Mom and Aunt Gertrude had been home all evening. They didn't mention anything happening."

"Let's go check Dad's office, just in case."

The boys raced down to their father's office and checked through his desk and safe. "Doesn't look like anything was disturbed," Joe said after a few minutes.

They sat down, staring at each other. "Well, I don't know what it's about. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. We'll call Mr. Collins in the morning. Hopefully he'll be in, even though it's Saturday, if he has to have his case ready by next week."

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.