"Hardy? What are the chances…?" he pondered, an evil grin creasing his face. He put the card in his pocket and made a hasty search of the rest of the van, making some unusual finds.

Poole stared at the lock pick set, magnifying glass, binoculars and fingerprint kit. His mind was reeling. Who else but detective Fenton Hardy’s family would have such things tucked away in their van?

Poole suddenly froze. He heard several voices coming his direction from the far side of the mill. He quickly exited the van, being sure to lock the doors. He hid among the trees across the road from the mill and watched with great interest.

* * *

"I think we need to get some help on this one," Frank Hardy stated as the boys listened to Mike’s entire story in the cave. "We have no way of knowing who is after you, Mike, or where he’ll strike."

"And you can’t live here forever," Joe added, with a small smile. "The new owner’s of the Turner mill don’t want a ghost in their antique shop." Mike turned red.

"I wore the old sheet ‘cause I thought it might scare people away," he said.

"It frightened the Meadows enough to hire us," Frank stated.

"If I leave here, he’ll find me," Mike added softly.

"Mike, Frank and I will think of something," Joe offered, glancing at his brother. Frank nodded slightly, though the older Hardy boy had no idea what they could do to help Mike at the moment.

"Meanwhile," Joe continued, "we’ll bring you some supplies so you won’t have to ‘borrow’ any more from the mill."

The five teens said goodbye to Mike Walsh and began the crawl back through the tunnel to the pit behind the old mill. On the way, Joe explained how he’d tumbled into the 20 foot pit the first time he’d come across it.

As the group climbed out of the hole, Phil, Tony and Biff headed straight for the Cavalier. They waved goodbye to the Hardys and drove off toward Shore Road.

"I’ll grab the sleeping bags," Joe told his brother. Frank agreed and followed Joe inside, picking up both backpacks. The brothers hauled their gear out to the van, unlocked the rear door and tossed the stuff in the back. Frank double-checked the door of the mill to make sure it was securely locked, then climbed into the van.

"Where to big brother?" Joe asked as he started the engine and backed the van onto the road.

"Let’s go home. Maybe Dad’s back," Frank suggested. "If not, we’ll try calling him. I think we’ll need his advice on how to proceed with Mike’s situation."

* * *

Torrance Poole saw three teenage boys drive away in the blue Cavalier, but it was the other two teens that drew his attention.

"Definitely Fenton Hardy’s kids," the man sneered as he took careful notice of Frank and Joe’s handsome features. Though one youth had dark hair and dark eyes and the other was fair-haired with blue eyes, both bore the same straight nose and strong jaw line as their famous father.

Poole glanced at the van’s registration card and read the address again. Staying well hidden in the trees, he made his way to his van. He followed the Shore Road back into Bayport, and then quickly made his way to the intersection of High and Elm Street. Poole slowed down and studied the large stone and clapboard sided house that sat back from the street. He pulled his van around the corner and parked, watching the Hardy home.

Poole smiled as the black customized van pulled into the long driveway. His interest peaked when he saw a silver Concorde pull in just seconds later and come to a stop beside the van.

"Well,well; looks like ‘Daddy-Dear’ is home," the hit man smirked as he watched the detective greet his two sons and the three Hardys walked into the house. "Are you protecting Walsh, Mr. Hardy?" Poole considered out loud. "I’ve always wanted to meet the famous Fenton Hardy. Perhaps, I’ll soon get my chance."

Inside the Hardy home, Fenton and the boys were greeted with the aroma of roast beef, spicy potato wedges, French cut green beans and homemade apple pie.

Gertrude Hardy, a tall woman with graying dark hair and sharp features was pouring gravy from a pan into a gravy dish. She glanced over the rim of her glasses as the trio of men walked through the door.

"Gracious, Fenton," his unmarried sister cried, almost dropping the sauce pan, "you could warn a person before you come barging into the house!"

Fenton and the boys apologized, but knew that she wasn’t really upset with them. Gertrude had an outspoken personality, but she deeply loved her brother and his family.

Laura Hardy came into the kitchen to greet her husband and sons. She had been setting the table in the dining room when she heard their voices. "It’s wonderful to have you home, Darling," she addressed her husband of twenty years.

Frank and Joe quickly washed their hands and offered to finish setting the table, giving their parents a few minutes of private time before dinner.

Twenty minutes later, the scene was one of domestic tranquility as the Hardy family sat down to eat that evening. Not one was aware that they were being carefully observed by a hired murderer.