Joe arrived at Scottsdale’s class early for the second day in a row. He entered the room and took a seat, setting his textbook and notebook on the top of his desk.

“Bring me your essay,” Scottsdale ordered, looking at Joe expectantly.

“I didn’t do it,” Joe stated calmly, meeting his teacher’s eyes.

Scottsdale's eyes narrowed; not in outrage or disbelief but in curiosity. “And why, may I ask, not?” he inquired, his tone matching Joe’s.

“It wasn’t required,” Joe answered promptly.

“I assigned it,” Scottsdale pointed out.

“Before class and only to me,” returned Joe. “Ergo, it was not a legitimate assignment.”

“And do you have your legitimate assignment completed?” Scottsdale inquired.

Joe nodded and bit his tongue to keep from telling him that he would find out when he collected the assignments.

“I will be frank, Mr. Hardy,” Scottsdale said. “I dislike belligerence.”

“I’m not being belligerent,” Joe objected. “I simply refuse to obey someone who has no right to order me around,” he explained. “And outside of class you have no authority over me.”

“Point taken, Mr. Hardy,” Scottsdale said as other students began pouring into the classroom.

***

“Joe, I’m sorry,” Jeff said, sitting down next to Joe at lunch. “I should have told you last night but we had agreed not to talk about our families.”

“Told me what?” Joe asked curiously.

“My dad told me he was holding your dad and brother hostage until he found out where you were,” Jeff told him.

“Did you tell him I was your roommate?” asked Joe.

“No way!” denied Jeff. “If your family wants him to know they can tell him. I just couldn’t keep this from you.”

“I wonder why mom never called me?” Joe commented.

“She couldn’t,” Jeff said. “It’s in the handbook. No contact with the outside for two weeks,” he explained. “It’s supposed to be an adjustment period.”

“What are you going to do?” Jeff asked after five minutes of silence where both boys sat picking at their food.

“I’m going home,” Joe stated as if there hadn‘t been any doubt. “I just have to figure out the best way to leave without anyone noticing too soon.”

“After your last class for sure,” Jeff said, then paused. “I am sorry,” he repeated.

“It’s okay,” Joe assured him. “We did make the agreement but I sure am glad you decided to break it. What I don’t understand is why your dad told you. I mean, doesn’t he understand that makes you an accessory?”

“I told you. My dad wants me to join up with him,” Jeff reminded Joe sadly.

“Oh, man, I’m sorry.” Joe had never felt sorrier for anyone. Even his dad had discouraged him from being a detective in the beginning and it wasn’t illegal. He could well remember his father telling him about the boredom of stakeouts; the endless paperwork; the bureaucratic red tape and having to deceive your own family for their own protection. And sending me here was one of those deceptions!’ Joe realized.

***

Frank opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn’t. Last night after Hartley had dropped his bombshell, Frank and his father had been released from their positions against the wall. Frank, like his father, had put up a fight but when something heavy had connected with the back of his head, Frank had lost consciousness.

Fighting the pain in his head that he now felt, Frank looked around the room he was in. He was relieved to see his dad conscious and already working feverishly on the ropes that bound him.

“Dad!” Frank said, capturing his father's attention.

Fenton stopped and looked over at his eldest son with a measure of relief. “How bad is it?” Fenton asked, aware Frank was in pain.

“Not so bad I can’t help get us out of here,” Frank replied with a wan smile. “Can you scoot over? I can work on your ropes with my fingers.”

“We need to hurry,” Fenton said. “This building is scheduled to be demolished at noon.”

“What time is it?” asked Frank as his dad’s hands bumped into his own.

“I don’t know,” replied Fenton. “But it was after eleven when Hartley and his cohorts left us here.” As he finished his sentence a crash was heard followed by a rumbling as dirt fell down on their heads through cracks in the ceiling.

“Faster!” hissed Fenton.

Frank worked furiously on his father's ropes, feeling them loosen as another crash resounded from above. Part of the ceiling caved in and a beam fell on Frank, knocking him over. He closed his eyes as debris tumbled down on him.

 

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.