hardy boys fan fiction
MANSION MYSTERY
hardy boys nancy drew fan fiction
by
CQB
Chapter 5
hardy boys fan fiction
THE CHAPTERS
“Mom! I’m home,” Artie Hooper called out as he hung his
lettermen jacket in the hall closet. He
ran upstairs and knocked on his kid brother’s door.
“Hey, Biff-ster,” Artie said, poking his head in the
door. Biff’s room was empty.
Puzzled, Artie headed for his mother’s sewing room at the end of
the hall, hearing her sewing machine’s rhythmic hum.
“Mom,” Artie greeted the tall blond woman.
Mrs. Hooper smiled at her handsome sixteen-year old.
“Hello, dear! How was
practice?”
“Okay,” Artie answered.
“Mom, where’s Alan?”
Mrs. Hooper looked questioningly at her son.
“You mean he’s not with you?”
Artie shook his head, but quickly added, “He’s probably
over at the Hardy’s house and just lost track of time.
I’ll go give them a call.”
When Artie spoke with Mrs. Hardy and learned that Frank and Joe never came home from school either, he remembered the feeling of foreboding he’d felt during football practice.
“Mom,” he called up the stairs.
“The Hardys are trying to locate their kids, too.
Looks like the three of them went off playing somewhere.”
Mrs. Hooper walked to the top of the stairs.
Concern pinched her pretty features.
“Don’t worry,” Artie smiled up at her, carefully hiding
his own fears. “I’ll run
out and have a look around. I’m
sure they’re fine.”
*
* *
“Well, Fenton,” Ezra Collig chuckled, “it sounds to me
like you’ve got the making of a couple junior detectives in your
home.”
“It certainly looks like the boys have been giving those
robberies some thought,” Fenton Hardy agreed. “Tying them in to the
noises Joe heard in the old mansion is ingenious.
I never would have considered the Hoffman House as a hideout.”
“We’re about to have a shift change here,” the Chief of
Police said. “As soon as
Riley and his partner are ready, I’ll send them back over there for a
closer look.”
*
* *
Frank protectively put his arm around his younger brother,
feeling Joe trembling beside him.
“It’ll be okay Joey,” Frank whispered in Joe’s ear.
The younger boy squeezed in a little closer to his brother.
“Where’s the stupid flashlight?
I know I put it right under the bottom step,” a voice said in the
darkness of the basement.
Frank felt himself clutch the flashlight a bit tighter in his
hand.
“Here,” came a second voice.
“I brought matches. We’ll
have to light the old lantern.”
Above their heads, Frank noticed a soft glow against the
sooty white wall behind the stove. The
three boys heard the shuffling of feet and a scraping sound.
The light above them grew a little brighter.
“Get busy,” the second voice said.
“We need to finish this list for the buyer.”
“Keep your pants on,” the first voice replied.
Frank’s eyes went wide.
He knew that voice!
“We could’a been done if we’d stayed Friday night,”
Crook One continued. Suddenly,
a sharp tap-tap-tapping noise filled the room.
Frank felt Joe and Biff both stiffen and in the dim light
that filtered into their hiding place, he saw Joe’s eyes lock onto his
own. Joe mouthed the words,
“The tapping ghost.”
Frank nodded, letting Joe know he understood. The robbers were using an old, manual typewriter. The old office tool made a distinctive tapping sound when the keys were punched. It was the sound Joe must have heard last Friday night on their way home from the movies!
The three boys were getting cramped in the confines of their
hiding place behind the old stove and it seemed like forever before the
crooks stopped typing.
“There,” Crook One finally said.
“That ought to satisfy the buyer.
The sooner we get rid of this stuff, the better I’ll feel.”
“We’ll crate it all up tonight, after dark,” Crook Two
said. “Did you get the
boxes?”
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” Crook One replied.
“I got them from the store. Old
man Corbin won’t miss ‘em.”
“Put the lamp out, but light a match so we can find the
stairs,” Crook Two ordered. Immediately,
the light above the boys faded slightly.
The footfalls of the crooks could be heard going up the stairs and
the minimal light from the match went with them.
Frank waited. He
didn’t want to put the flashlight on until he was sure the robbers were
gone. He could still hear them
moving in the ell above them.
A door closed and a few seconds later, a distant engine
started. Sighing, Frank
flipped on the flashlight and led the two younger boys out from behind the
stove.
*
* *
Artie Hooper smiled when he saw the group of boys walking
toward him. He recognized the
three of them as friends of his younger brother.
“Hey guys,” the teenager greeted Chet Morton, Tony Prito
and Jerry Gilroy.
“Hi Artie,” Tony spoke for them all. “We’re looking
for Frank and Joe. Have you
seen them?”
Artie felt his heart beat a little faster.
“No, I haven’t. Biff
is missing though. Have you
seen him at all?”
The trio of boys shook their heads collectively.
“Bet they’re together, wherever they are,” Jerry
suggested.
Artie was already thinking that himself.
“Where have you guys looked?”
Chet quickly told Artie that they’d circled down
“That’s the way Frank and Joe usually come home,” Chet
finished with a shrug.
“Look, I’ll go back to the school and start walking back
towards Elm,” Artie directed. “You
guys run and check the park at the end of High Street, then head back down
Elm and wait on the corner of
The three younger boys nodded eagerly and set off.
Artie thrust his hands in his pockets and headed for
Artie glanced wistfully at the lawn.
Mr. Parker had obviously just mowed it, but the edging hadn’t
been done. ‘Maybe I’ll
sneak over here tomorrow and do it for him,’ Artie thought.
‘It might help him forgive me for whatever I did that made him
mad at me.’
*
* *
As Artie walked by the old mansion, he had no idea that his
brother and the Hardy boys were inside the burned out shell.
With the flashlight on, the basement wasn’t as scary, but
all three boys were anxious to get out of the old house.
“Let’s go right to your house,” Biff suggested.
Mostly, he wanted Mr. Hardy to know what they had discovered, but
Biff was also afraid he’d be in trouble for going in the burned out
house to begin with.
“Dad should be home by now,” Joe said.
His voice was much steadier than he thought it could be.
The tapping typewriter had shaken him quite badly, but at least he
knew he hadn’t imagined the sound.
Frank started climbing the stairs with the other two boys
right behind him. When they
reached the top, Frank pushed on the door.
It wouldn’t budge.
“What’s wrong?” Joe asked.
“The door’s closed and I can’t get it open,” Frank
replied.
“Hold the flashlight, Joe,” Frank handed the younger boy
the light. Frank then pulled
and pushed and pounded on the wood door with all his strength.
“This is just great,” Biff sighed and sat down on the
step where he’d been standing.
Frank once again grabbed the handle and pulled.
Joe grabbed Frank’s waist and tried helping; both brothers
pulling hard.
“Whoa …!” Frank
exclaimed as the doorknob pulled loose from the door, throwing him off
balance. He fell against Joe,
pushing the younger boy into Biff. Because
Biff had sat down, Joe fell over him and both Hardys tumbled down the
basement stairs.
Biff stood and stared into the darkness at the bottom of the
stairs. The flashlight was
still on, but had rolled to a stop several feet from the bottom of the
staircase and was now shining on the old stove near the far wall.
“Frank? Joe? Are you guys okay?”
There was no response from the basement.
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Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors 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.