Frank moved his head and winced as a stab of pain raced through his head. He reached to touch the back of his head as a voice said, "Easy son. You were hit pretty hard."

"Dad!" Frank exclaimed, his eyes flying open. "They took Joe's notes."

"I know," Mr. Hardy acknowledged grimly. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his blue eyes.

"Yeah, I guess so," Frank answered, wincing again as he touched the lump on the back of his head. "What are you doing here?" he asked, standing up with his father's help.

"Callie called the police and the message was relayed to Chief Collig. Your attackers were gone before we arrived."

"It was the same guys who grabbed Joe," Frank said. "I'm sure of it. But they were in a different car."

"That figures," Mr. Hardy said. "We got word a few minutes after you left that the red Mercury was found abandoned. No clues to be found there. Not only was the interior wiped clean of any prints, but it had also been reported stolen earlier this morning. Did you get a look at any of them?" He asked Frank, hopefully.

"They were wearing ski masks and never said anything, but I did notice one of them had mismatched eyes," Frank told him. "One was brown and one was blue."

"They seem to be professionals," stated Mr. Hardy. "One thing we now know for a certainty is that it wasn't an old enemy who took Joe."

"Because they were after Joe's notes, not me," Frank said, understanding what his father meant.

"Are you okay to drive home?" His father asked.

"I'm fine," Frank assured him. "Callie's calling the gang over and we're going to see if we can come up with anything," he added. "I think I'll call Liz and see if she can find out what Joe was looking for at the paper's morgue. Maybe we can work backwards from there."

"Good idea," approved Mr. Hardy. "I'll be home as soon as I finish at headquarters."

Arriving home, a tall, lean blond-headed girl ran from the Hardy's house to greet him. "Are you okay?" Callie asked with concern, gently pushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. Frank nodded and gave her a quick hug.

"Everyone's inside," Callie informed him. "I told your mom what you told me. Do you have any leads at all?" She asked.

"Actually, we have less now than when I called you," he replied. At her look of surprise, he continued, "The reason I was attacked was because I had Joe's notes. But some good did come from the attack. At least now we know we aren't dealing with an old enemy."

"What's good about that?" demanded an overweight Chet Morton as he opened the screen door for frank and Callie to enter. The Hardy boys' best friend, he preferred a slice of pie to an adventure but when there was trouble he was the first in line to help.

"Inside," Frank told Chet. "I'll fill everyone in at the same time, but I first need to call Liz."

Minutes later Frank, Chet, and Callie, joined by Tony Prito, Biff Hooper, Phil Cohen, and Chet's sister, Iola, were seated on the floor around the coffee table with Callie's and Biff's notes from class spread out.

"Sorry," said Chet, munching on an apple. "My notes weren't so great, so I left them at home."

"They may have helped anyway," pointed out small, wiry Tony.

"No they wouldn't," broke in dark-haired, blue-eyed Iola. "His notes consist of nothing more than doodles. He's got a crush on the teacher," she added mischievously with a glance at her blond-headed brother.

Chet shrugged. "So?" He demanded. "We'll just have to learn this stuff again next year in history."

"Oh, wise one," joked blond, beefy Biff, "your intellect can only be out-distanced by the weight you've lost this week." He was rewarded with a good-natured punch in the arm.

Frank, who had sat silently through the exchange asked, "What was your assignment?"

"We had to find a way to improve safety in the work place by choosing a few places and concentrating on a related problem," Callie told him.

"How does that fit into a current events class?" asked Iola.

"The papers are full of accidents happening because of lax safety measures," explained Phil, straightening his glasses.

"Right," agreed Frank. "The oil spill in Alaska last year could have been prevented if the proper precautions had been followed."

"Great!" moaned Iola. "With so many possibilities, where are we supposed to start looking?"

"I asked Liz to find out what Joe was looking at but tomorrow is Sunday and the morgue is closed," Frank informed them. "That's the same problem we have with the library. We can't find anything there until Monday, but we need something now!" He ended with force, bringing his fist crashing down on the table. He knew the first twenty-four hours were crucial in solving a mystery, and the lack of a solid lead only increased his sense of helplessness.

"Did Joe say anything this morning before he left?" asked Phil.

Frank shook his head. "He was gone when I got back from my jog and last night he still hadn't chosen a topic," he said, giving a sigh.

"Maybe he left something in his room that would tell us what he was going to do," suggested Chet.

"No," said Mrs. Hardy, coming in from the kitchen. She set down a tray with a pitcher of lemonade, glasses, and a plate of cookies. "I made him breakfast this morning and he still hadn't decided. He said he was going to drive around before the library opened and see if anything would come to mind."

"Hey!" exclaimed Chet, as an idea hit him. "Why don't we ask around and see if anyone saw Joe or the van this morning?"

"Good idea, Chet," congratulated Mr. Hardy, having just returned from the police station and walking in on the conversation. "I'll call and see if any of the Collig's men remember seeing Joe or the van today<" he added, going up the stairs and into his office.

"Wait!" Ordered Frank as Tony reached for the phone. We need to keep this line open in case the kidnapers call."

"I'll run down to Mr. Pizza and spread the word around," Tony said, mentioning the restaurant where he worked. "Maybe someone saw which way he was headed this morning."

"Okay," Frank agreed. "Keep us posted.

"I know he wasn't near the power plant this morning," Frank continued after Tony had left. "That's the direction I took on my run and he never passed me."

"He wasn't around the hospital either," added Iola, who was a volunteer. "I had to go in last night when two of the other volunteers got sick," she explained. "I left around seven-thirty this morning and I would have seen him on my way home."

"Joe didn't leave until a little before eight<" interrupted Mrs. Hardy. "Maybe he stayed in the general vicinity of the library," she suggested.

"So what's near the library?" Mumbled Chet, chewing on his fourth cookie.

"Several factories," said Callie.

"Some warehouses," added Phil.

"The fire department," threw in Biff.

"The mall," added Iola, sighing in defeat. "Let's face it, the library is near just about everything."

"It's all we've got," Frank said sharply. Looking up from his clenched fists, he saw the shocked expressions on their faces. "I'm sorry..." he began.

"It's okay," Callie interrupted him, placing a hand on his arm. "We're worried about Joe too."

Frank took a calming breath then put forth his plan of action. "Callie and Iola, would you two please ask the storekeepers at the mall if they saw the van this morning?" They nodded their agreement and he continued, "Biff, you and Phil can tackle the factories closest to the library. Chet and I will go down to the warehouses. And mom," he added, looking at her, you can be home base."

Hours later, Frank ran a hand through his hair in frustration. They had asked everyone they had seen about Joe and the van but had learned nothing. Calling home, his mother told him the others hadn't had any luck either.

Stifling a yawn, Chet looked at Frank. "Let's go home and catch a few winks and come back in the morning."

Although Frank didn't want to waste time on sleep, he knew he could work better after some rest. He dropped Chet off at the Morton farm and went home.

"Frank!" he heard his father call as he opened his bedroom door. "Would you please come here?" He went to the room his dad had converted into an office and sat down. "How did it go?"

"Nothing," said Frank with disgust. "We've got a few more places to cover though."

"Collig is going to talk with the men that were on duty earlier first thing in the morning," Mr. Hardy informed him. "We had better try to get some rest," he continued wearily. "We can start again in a few hours." Frank looked at the clock. It was almost morning.

Over a light breakfast, the Hardys made plans for the day. Frank was getting ready to leave for the warehouse district when Chief Collig phoned.

"Thank you Ezra," said Mr. Hardy before hanging up. "Joe was own by the warehouses that burned down recently," he told Frank. "The van was also spotted at the fire department."

"Finally!" Shouted Frank, "We have a place to start. I'll head over to the warehouses."

"No," Mr. Hardy stopped Frank as he was running to the door. "Go to the fire department. You'll probably be able to find someone Joe talked to yesterday."

"But Joe may have found something at the warehouses yesterday," argued Frank.

"True," agreed Mr. Hardy. "But if he did, where do you think he would go for information?" he asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

"The fire department," Frank answered ruefully.

"Besides," continued Mr. Hardy, "I would rather you had someone with you when you go to the warehouses."

"So would I," Mrs. Hardy agreed with her husband. "If Joe did find something there to get him into trouble, then you probably will too," she told Frank.

"I won't go alone," he promised her. "While I'm at the fire department where will you be?" Frank asked his dad.

"I'll be at headquarters," Mr. Hardy said. "Some hairs were found in the stolen car that didn't match the owners. The forensic team is all ready on it."

"Be careful," said Mrs. Hardy. "Both of you."

"We will," Mr. Hardy assured her, giving her elbow a gentle squeeze.