Five minutes later, he knew it was no use; the lawn mower was simply too loud and intrusive. But he refused to give in completely and get up; instead, he kept his eyes shut and thought about the previous evening….

Megan had fallen asleep almost as soon as they stopped talking. Rather than wake her when the movie was done, Frank had simply let the television stay on, with the sound fairly low, and held her quietly while she slept, occasionally stroking her hair gently with his good hand. She had looked so peaceful and relaxed, despite the angry-looking cuts and livid bruises on her face; he rejoiced that she was starting to recover, even while his heart ached with pity for her pain.

It was very late when she finally stirred and opened her eyes. Frank smiled down at her.

"Have a nice nap?"

"Yes, but….What time is it?" The girl lifted her hand to see her wristwatch, and gasped. "Oh heavens, Frank, you were supposed to have gone home ages ago! Why did you let me sleep?" Megan sat up.

"Because you needed the rest, and I didn’t want to disturb you," he replied, reasonably. "And besides, I like watching you sleep."

She laughed a little, but at the same time was scrambling to her feet and tugging at his hand. "You have to go home—"

"I will, I will," Frank assured her, rising. "But first, Baby, I’m going to make sure you’re settled for the night."

She eyed him warily. "You are, huh? And just how were you planning to do that?" Although she looked slightly suspicious, there was a distinct light of mischief in those bruise-encircled eyes.

"You know what I meant; stop trying to give me ideas," he grinned. "Go do whatever it is you do to get ready for bed, and then I’ll take off." Gently, he pushed her in the direction of the hallway. "No arguments."

She yawned, then winced. "Okay – okay, no arguments. Give me…five minutes."

It was closer to fifteen minutes than five, but finally Megan emerged from the bathroom. When Frank approached, however, she waved him back.

"Not a chance; stay away. All my makeup’s off, and I look like the loser in a boxing match. Go on, Frank, I’ll go right to bed. You just go on home." She stifled another yawn.

"But – but I want to kiss you goodnight!" he protested. A sudden thought struck him, and he reached for the light switch at the end of the hall. "Stand still; stay right there," he commanded, and flipped the switch. Suddenly the hall was shrouded in shadows; only a tiny bit of light reached them from the family room. Frank walked cautiously through the dimness.

A gentle collision halted him, and he felt Megan’s arms go about him, and her head laid against his shoulder. He bent his head and softly kissed her hair.

"Goodnight, Baby," he murmured. "Sleep well – did you take something?" he added, in concern, "So you can sleep?"

"Um-hmmm," she nodded against him. "If I make it as far as my bed before I’m asleep, I’ll be doing good!"

"Call me in the morning, okay? Or when you wake up, anyway. At home, or on my cell."

"Okay," came the drowsy response.

Frank kissed her one more time, then carefully turned her in the direction of her bedroom, and gave her a gentle push. "Straight ahead, and turn right when you hit the end of the hallway," he instructed his sleepy girlfriend. "I’ll lock everything up on my way out. See you later, Baby." He stayed where he was until he saw the lights flash on in her bedroom, then he went back to the family room to switch off the lights there.

That was then, this was now. Frank stretched luxuriously, then sat up and swung out of bed. He was still sleepy, but he and Joe had arson crimes to investigate! Even though we told Dad we’d stay out of it unless we were asked, he admitted sheepishly to himself. Joe wants to – he’s raring to go, especially since the stadium was torched! Trust Joe’s priorities to be in order! He grinned at the thought, then sighed with frustration as he began to slowly work his way through his one-armed morning routine. A punctured shoulder and a broken arm were better than being dead, he supposed, but they sure made life inconvenient!

"Morning, Mom." Frank stepped into the kitchen and greeted his mother, who was glancing through the Sunday paper and sipping a cup of coffee. He gave her a brief hug, and headed for the cupboard where the coffee mugs were kept.

"Morning, honey. You’re up early, for a Sunday morning. How’s Megan?"

"It was the lawn mower next door….Megan’s doing better," Frank inhaled the coffee’s enticing aroma before taking a careful swallow of the scalding-hot beverage. "She slept most of the evening, though. Her mom’s supposed to get home some time this morning, from Philly."

"I have some things to take over there later," Laura said. "We have leftovers galore from last night – no reason for Carolyn to have to cook!"

"Last night….Oh, yeah – how’d the dinner go?" Frank yawned, and took another cautious sip.

"It was fine – nice to see the Ransons again. You didn’t meet them, did you, when we were in Nevada. They’re a nice couple – newlyweds!"

"Huh-unh." Newlyweds didn’t interest Frank much – at least, not newlyweds he’d never met!

Laura chuckled. "It’s too bad Megan’s not feeling well – and tomorrow Vanessa will be in school. We’re thinking of going shopping, maybe this afternoon, or tomorrow – or maybe later in the week. Erica and I and possibly Andrea Bender. I’ll ask Carolyn too, although I suppose she’ll be tied up at work tomorrow, and probably will want to stay with Megan today. But Erica’s a lot younger than the three of us, so it would have been nice to have the girls along."

Mention of his girlfriend caught Frank’s attention, but the words going shopping made him tune out again. He yawned, and kept sipping coffee.

"Michael Ranson had a case for Dad," Laura went on. She got up from the table where she was sitting, and began setting out cereal, juice, and milk for Frank’s breakfast, since he didn’t seem to be doing it himself. "Checking into something with Markham Glass."

"A case? Really?" That’s a little more interesting than shopping! Frank noted. "Where is Dad, anyway?"

Laura smiled. "He’s playing golf with Michael and Jack Wayne." Deciding that her eldest son wasn’t really in the mood for chatter, she returned to scanning the newspaper.

"Golf?" Frank stared at his mother incredulously. "Dad doesn’t play golf…I mean, he doesn’t play very…umm…often," he finished lamely. The words ‘doesn’t play very WELL’ hung in the air, unuttered. Laura smiled behind her newspaper page. She knew exactly what Frank meant, and he was quite correct.

"He plays well enough for something like this," was all she said.

"Jack’s not much of a golfer either," Frank mentioned, just in case Laura hadn’t known that fact.

"It’s just for fun, Frank, they aren’t playing for a trophy!" Laura laughed. "Michael was the one who suggested it, and Jack certainly didn’t have to agree to play!"

"Hmmm…the Ransons and you seem to have really hit it off." Frank poured himself a bowl of Cheerios, and a glass of orange juice. He began to eat, absently, as he went through a mental checklist of the things he needed to do that morning. Campus….The stadium…maybe the Admin building…see if Dani’s come up with anything new….check with Megan….

He was just completing his contemplations when noises from upstairs caught his attention – thumps and bumps. Evidently, Joe was up, and from the sounds of it, running into all the furniture and walls! Laura chuckled, and left the room, evidently intending to make sure Joe didn’t fall down the stairs, too!

Frank was finishing his coffee when Joe stumbled into the kitchen, eyes half-shut, barefoot and clad only in blue pajama bottoms, his blonde hair tousled into little tufts which stuck out in several odd directions. Seemingly oblivious of his brother, he walked directly towards the coffeemaker, poured himself a cup, and took a quick gulp. Only then did he turn around and acknowledge Frank’s presence.

"Morning," he mumbled, running his free hand through his tangled hair, and taking another swallow of coffee. He blinked at Frank owlishly. "How’s Megan?"

"She’s feeling better," Frank informed him, fighting not to laugh out loud at Joe’s disheveled appearance. "Carolyn’s getting home this morning, remember? I’ll go over and see Megan later, after her mom’s had time to make a fuss over her, and pamper her for awhile."

Joe smiled sleepily at that. He stretched, arching his back, then leaned against the counter and continued drinking his coffee.

"Would you mind getting a move on?" Frank prodded, slightly annoyed. "We have work to do this morning!"

"Like what?" Joe asked, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow in his brother’s direction. He ambled over to the refrigerator and got out the orange juice.

"We wanted to go over to the campus, remember?" Frank reminded him impatiently.

"Oh." Joe nodded sheepishly, and sank into a chair at the table. He yawned, blinked drowsily, then reached for a box of dry cereal and poured himself a bowlful; added milk, and began to eat.

Frank watched him, mouth twitching. Okay – how many spoonfuls will it take before he realizes that he’s eating Froot Loops…and remembers that he hates Froot Loops?

Unaware of Frank’s covert amusement, Joe kept eating, with an occasional sip of juice or coffee interspersing the bites of cereal. "Nice dinner with Andrea and Vanessa last night," he mumbled. "I think the main topics were either Megan or the arson fires the whole evening, though! Well, and the latest Rex Rover show, naturally."

"Not surprising," Frank nodded and grinned, still watching Joe closely.

"I wonder if Dani’s come up with any more information for us? Where do you want to start checking around, anyway?" Joe put another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

"I want to start at the stadium, I think," Frank said. "Will you hurry up and finish, please?"

Joe started to reply, and then abruptly stopped chewing and stared down into his half-emptied bowl. "FROOT LOOPS! I hate Froot Loops!" He made a face, and a few gagging noises, and promptly got up to dump the contents of the bowl into the garbage disposal. "Why didn’t you tell me I was eating this?" he demanded of his brother, who was by now convulsed with laughter.

"What, and miss all the fun?" Frank looked at Joe’s disgusted face and doubled over again.

"Ugh!" Joe shuddered. He got a clean bowl, returned to the table, and poured more cereal, this time checking the box carefully. "Ahhh, that’s more like it!" He took a bite, and sighed blissfully.

Frank, observing that this time Joe was consuming Captain Crunch, shuddered himself.

Eventually, Joe finished his cereal and juice, poured another cup of coffee, and departed to shower and dress.

Later than he liked, but not too late in the overall scheme of things, Frank managed to prod Joe out of the house and into the Aztek, and the two headed for the Bayport Community College campus, to see if they could get a good look at the fire damage. Joe finally was fully awake, and was humming along with the CD player as he drove through the Sunday-morning-quiet streets.

While they were en route, Frank’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the display and smiled happily. "Good morning, Baby!" he greeted the caller. "How’d you sleep? Are you feeling better?"

"I slept like a log, and I’m feeling…okay. Not great, but believe me, ‘okay’ is a whole lot better than I felt yesterday!" Megan replied, chuckling.

Frank heaved a relieved sigh. "That’s great!"

"Mom called – she’s going to be home in about an hour," Megan went on. "Don’t expect to hear from me after she gets here, Frank – at least not for a while. You know how over-protective she gets!"

Frank grimaced a little; he recalled all too well how Carolyn cocooned Megan and prevented him from seeing her, after her near-brush with death the previous winter. "Maybe it won’t be so bad this time," he encouraged. A sudden thought struck him. "Megan, I know how to distract her – get her started thinking about having to replace your car! After all, you need one right away, or you can’t get to school – right?" He chuckled. "Although I’ll be more than happy to pick you up and bring you home, until you get one!"

Stunned silence met his ears, to be finally broken by a soft laugh, then a sigh. "It’s a great idea – but you just traded my mother being upset for me being upset! I don’t want to replace my car – I liked the one I had!" She laughed again. "Yes, I know, I’m being irrational!"

"Baby, take my word for it, no matter how much you liked the Accord, you’ll love having a new car!" Frank assured her. "We’ll talk more about it this afternoon. And you be sure and get lots of rest, okay? Let your mom coddle you for awhile."

"Love you, Baby – I’ll talk to you this afternoon!" Frank shut his phone and returned it to his pocket, feeling much better about Megan. Now he was ready to tackle this mystery!

"After we poke around a little, I’ll call Dani, and see if the accelerant’s been identified," he said to Joe, as they pulled into the parking lot closest to the remnants of the stadium and athletic center.

"I read up on some chemical substances in my chem. book," Joe offered, much to Frank’s surprise. "There are quite a few good ones, but only two or three that really burn hot enough to do the job."

Frank blinked. "You did? I didn’t think you – I mean, I’m surprised that you did so much work on this already—"

Joe’s forehead knotted, and he gave Frank a distinctly hurt look. "I’m not just a dumb jock, you know!" he retorted, evidently stung by the implications of Frank’s remark.

"No, of course you’re not!" Frank hastened to agree, and tried to make amends. "I didn’t think you’d had time, that’s all!"

"Well, I was waiting for Vanessa," Joe admitted, "and the chem. book was sitting right there. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to look, while I was killing time." He shut off the car’s engine, and removed the key from the ignition, then leaned to delve into his pants pocket. "I wrote a list…."

After hearing Joe’s list of possibilities, Frank nodded approvingly. "Good job! There are a couple of those that have a distinct odor – it would make them easier to identify—"

"If someone could I.D. the odor, then the fire department would already know what was used," Joe pointed out. "So it’s probably not an accelerant with a distinctive characteristic like that. But any of the hydrocarbons would work. Methanol, for instance. And you can get it at any drugstore. Hydrogen gas would burn the best and hottest, but it’s harder to get." He paused, then hazarded a guess. "I wonder if they’re in the college lab, though?"

Frank blinked again, scarcely believing he was hearing these words from Joe’s lips. When had he learned all this? "Uh – probably," he conceded. "College must be doing you some good, little brother. See how much smarter you are already?"

The expression on Joe’s face told Frank he was on thin ice. He wasn’t sure if Joe was mad, or his feelings were hurt, but either way, Frank wasn’t on his brother’s list of favorite people at the moment! He decided to go easy on the gibes for a little while, until Joe’s temper cooled down. Getting in a scrap with him wouldn’t help their investigation any!

They got out of the Aztek and Joe conscientiously locked the vehicle; then the two began walking slowly towards the ugly hulk which had once been the school stadium and the new athletic facility. As it had been with the Administration building, the sharp tang of smoke still hung in the warm September air. A few other curiosity-seekers were likewise strolling about, but for the most part the brothers walked in relative privacy.

"It’s not fair," Joe muttered, and Frank glanced over at him. He could see that Joe was, at the very least, extremely irritated. No, it’s more than irritated, he decided. Joe’s irritated, and resentful, and chagrined, and mad clear through! And who knows what else?!

"We were supposed to play our first game yesterday!" Joe burst out then, furiously. "My first game on a college football team, Frank! But you know what? Our uniforms burned up! All our equipment burned up! We were supposed to play on this field – and since it happened right before the weekend, they couldn’t even reschedule it for anywhere else! We don’t even have anywhere we can practice, not on a regular basis! It won’t matter if we don’t get to play, because without practicing, what’s the use of holding the game anyway?"

"They’ll try to fit it in at the end of the season, won’t they?" Frank tried to sound soothing, although he suspected Joe was in no mood to listen to reasonable alternatives. "And you’ll get your practice times in, the coach will see to that. They’ll get more uniforms and equipment. You’ll get to play yet, Joe!"

"Yeah, right." Joe stalked across the ash-strewn lawn, his shoulders slumped, and his fists balled up at his sides, staring bleakly at the remains of the buildings.

Frank sighed as he followed Joe, shifting his sling in a futile effort to get a little more comfortable. He knew his younger brother enjoyed being a detective more than anything, but he also really liked playing football! He’s got a right to be upset…and he’s exercising that right for all he’s worth!

As was his usual habit, Frank scanned the territory as they approached the site of the fire. Even part of the field burned, he mused. What was left of the stands was a stark modern sculpture in black-and-gray twisted steel girders, half-melted and reformed as they cooled. Where concrete had been was now a crumbling mass of rubble. We won’t be able to get too close; that place is dangerous…and not only that, it’s cordoned off!

"This is just too much!" Joe exploded suddenly. "Why would someone do something like this? This is a community college, not some big university! Not that I think people should burn down stadiums at big universities; I just mean…." Abruptly, the fury faded, changing to an expression of weary despair, and Joe let his voice trail off into silence. He sighed, shook his head, and trudged glumly onward.

"Joe, take it easy—" Frank didn’t say anything more; he wasn’t sure Joe was listening to him anyway. He concentrated on looking around. As he had anticipated, they couldn’t get all that close; there was a guard patrolling the area surrounded by yellow plastic tape.

Frank walked as close as he could to the tape, accompanied by Joe. The guard eyed them warily, but as the Hardys didn’t make any attempt to breach the barrier, he didn’t say anything. They walked on, crunching over the cindery ground, both of them scanning the grotesque remains carefully.

"Look," Frank murmured, "doesn’t it look like it started over there?" He pointed to one end of the stands. "It worked its way across, to the other end, and then down. And then it went across the field, see where all the grass burned? And then into the athletic center along the access road."

"And it didn’t burn anything except that one path in the grass," Joe commented bitterly, "because that’s where the accelerant was spread, no doubt." He sighed sharply. "I want this creep!"

Frank nodded. "I know you do. So do I—" He paused, frowning, for his eye had been caught by something white, fluttering on a nearby telephone pole. A flyer of some sort, remarkably unscorched, uncharred, unmarked by the fire. The pole on which it hung, on the other hand, was blackened with charring and soot. "Joe, take that down, will you?"

Joe complied with the request, grimacing as he managed to get grimy just removing the paper from the pole. He examined it, and turned it over, frowning, then handed it to Frank. "Here."

Frank took the flyer and looked closely at it. It seemed to be an announcement for an upcoming meeting of the Students For Earth organization. "Huh. The S.F.E."

"What’s that?" Joe inquired, slightly puzzled.

"It’s a group here on campus—" Frank began, but broke off. "This was put up after the fire," he noted. "It’s not burnt at all, there’s just some soot on the back, from being tacked to the pole."

He turned about in a slow circle, looking for more of the papers. "There are more of these, on all the poles still standing."

"There." Joe nudged him sharply, and pointed. A short distance away, a young man with what appeared to be a bundle of these same flyers tucked beneath one arm, was just finishing tacking another to a pole. "Let’s ask him what’s up with the advertisements!" He took a step forward, and then shouted: "Hey, you with the fliers! We want to talk to you a minute!"