Frank, Chet and Biff were greeted by Callie, Phil and Iola when they walked into Mr. Pizza. When Tony came over to take their order, Frank brought everyone up to date.

"So Joe did stumble onto a mystery while he was researching his paper," said Iola, after Tony had left to get their pizza. "Only you two could take something as simple as homework and end up nearly getting yourselves killed."

"Sis," hissed Chet!

"Oh!" she exclaimed, clamping a hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide as she realized what she had said. "I didn't mean Joe was dead. He can't be!" She started crying and couldn't say anything more.

"It's okay," Frank soothed his brother's girlfriend. "We know what you meant. Joe and I do have a knack for finding mysteries in the most unusual ways."

"What bout the body Liz heard mentioned?" Callie asked.

"Dad said the police hadn't found one yet," Frank answered.

"Pizza's ready," Tony said, coming over and setting down two large pizzas.

"We're heading back to the docks after we eat," Frank said. "We didn't find anything at the burned warehouses so we're going to check out the ones Dawson still has standing."

"We'll go," said Iola, looking at Callie, who nodded in agreement.

"I wish I could," said Tony. "But I'm on duty until closing."

"My folks made me promise to be home early," Phil excused himself. "We're having company tonight. Let me know if you find out anything," he made them promise.

The five teen-agers arrived at the docks as dusk rolled in. They had almost reached the first row of warehouses when an explosion pierced the night and one of the warehouses erupted into flames.

"Callie, Iola, go call the fire department," ordered Frank, breaking into a run with Chet and Biff at his heels.

They had just reached the warehouse when a second explosion was heard. Frank rushed for the door, only to be halted by Biff.

"Hold it!" ordered Biff, grabbing Frank's arm. "You go in there and you'll get killed."

"What if Joe's in there?" demanded Frank, shaking Biff's arm off.

"You don't know if he is."

"This is Dawson's warehouse," Frank stated grimly. "That's a good enough reason to look."

"Here," Chet said, shoving his jacket which he had just dunked into the bay into Frank's hands.

"Thanks," said Frank, taking the jacket. "It's locked," he grunted a second later, pushing at the door.

"Stand back!" urged Biff, when the door didn't budge. Biff took a run at the door with his large, athletic frame and fell on top of it as it caved in.

"Joe!" Frank gasped, peering through the smoke and flames. His brother was lying inches from the flames, bound and not moving. Rushing over, he placed the wet jacket over Joe's head and with Biff and Chet's help, they lifted him and carried him out of the burning building.

Lying Joe down a safe distance from the fire, they heard another explosion followed by another. Then the night was filled with the blare of sirens. Frank checked Joe's vital signs while the others worked on releasing him from the ropes.

"On his back!" ordered Frank. "He's not breathing." He began administering CPR as Callie and Iola came running up.

"It's not working," Iola whispered as Joe showed no sign of recovering.

The fire engines arrived followed by an ambulance. Frank kept up the first aid on Joe until the paramedics took over.

"Would you call our parents and have them meet us at the hospital?" Frank asked Chet.

"Sure," he agreed, then said he would see to it that everyone got home because he knew only Joe's family would be allowed to see him tonight.

"Thanks," Frank said gratefully, and grinned when he heard Joe start coughing.

"He's inhaled a lot of smoke," one of the paramedics told Frank. "He's breathing on his own but he still hasn't regained consciousness. You can ride in the ambulance with him if you like?" Frank nodded and climbed into the back of the ambulance with Joe.

"How is Joe?" Mr. Hardy asked their family doctor as he, Mrs. Hardy and Frank stood up in the hospital's waiting room at the doctor's arrival.

"He's awake," Dr. Bates informed them. "Apparently, he was given something to make him sleep and it's just now worn off. He's hungry, so I'm having a light meal sent to his room," he added.

"Can we see him?" asked Mrs. Hardy.

"Yes," replied Dr. Bates. "But he's had a rough couple of days and needs some rest, so please don't stay too long."

"We won't," Mr. Hardy assured him and ushered his family toward Joe's room.

"Honey," Mrs. Hardy said as she reached Joe and kissed him on the forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"A little sore and confused," Joe responded, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

"He has a nasty bruise on his left side," explained Dr. Bates.

"Jared kicked me," Joe explained.

"Who's he?" Frank asked.

"The meanest one of my kidnapers," Joe told him. "About six-foot-two, brown hair, tan, green eyes, and a voice that reminds you of sharp metal," he described him.

"What did the others look like?" asked Chief Collig, coming into the room. "I'm glad you're all right," he added.

"Thanks," Joe said, giving a small smile. "Jack had a black crew cut, blue eyes, and a nasal voice. The only other guy I saw was the man they called the boss. I didn't get a good look at him, but he was balding and had on a navy suit."

"What about the guy with the mis-matched eyes?" asked Frank.

"What guy?" Joe asked, puzzled.

"Paul Conner. He was one of your kidnapers," Frank explained.

"I didn't see him," Joe said, shaking his head.

"Why did they kidnap you?" asked Mr. Hardy.

"That's why I'm confused," Joe responded dryly. "Whenever I asked, I was only told I was too nosey."

"So you weren't unconscious the entire time," observed Chief Collig.

"No," admitted Joe. "They drugged me when they grabbed me. Then when I nearly got away the boss ordered them to keep me drugged from then on."

"I have a theory about the kidnapping," Frank said. "You probably stumbled onto some arsonists."

"The Dawson warehouses," Joe said, nodding. "I figured there was more to those than there appeared to be, but I don't know how anyone found out. The only person I asked about them was Kevin and I didn't think I had said enough to raise any suspicions."

"You mentioned it," Frank told him. "And I'm sure that was enough, considering Conner was lurking around the fire department yesterday."

"Okay," said the nurse coming into the room. She set a tray laden with soup, crackers and Jell-o in front of Joe. "You will have to leave now and let the patient get some rest."

"Is that wise?" questioned Mrs. Hardy, worried. "They tried to kill him earlier. What if they try again?"

"Why did they kidnap you if they were just going to kill you anyway?" Frank asked in puzzlement.

"They thought I knew something which is why they grabbed me and my notes. They said the only reason I was still living was in case dad came snooping around."

Mr. Hardy looked over at Chief Collig. "Maybe you had better put a guard on him tonight," he suggested.

"Yes," agreed Chief Collig. Looking at Joe, he added, "When the doctor releases you, I want you to come down to headquarters and look through the mug shots."

"Perhaps tomorrow," said Dr. Bates. "Right now, I think everyone should leave so Joe can rest."

"I'll stay until the guard gets here," volunteered Frank.

"No," countermanded Mrs. Hardy. "You have school tomorrow."

"You take your mother home," Mr. Hardy told Frank. "I'll be along later."

"Have you found out anything about Dawson Chemical?" Joe asked his father after the others had left.

"The guard Frank spoke with yesterday had been with the company nine years. He said the fires were the first disasters that have occurred there in over six years. Other staff members agreed it had been a long time since anything major has happened involving the chemical company."

"Who's in charge of the place?"

"Charles Dawson," Mr. Hardy replied. "He took over the company from his brother last year when he died in an auto accident." Looking up, he smiled. "Here's the guard Chief Collig promised," he said, standing up.

"Hello Mr. Hardy. I'm Lieutenant Stevens," the officer introduced himself. "I'll be staying until Joe is released tomorrow morning."

"Lieutenant," Mr. Hardy acknowledged, shaking his hand. "If anything suspicious occurs, please notify me at once." Turning to Joe, he added, "See you in the morning, son. Sleep well."

"Night Dad," Joe returned with a grin, and watched his father leave. "Hi Lieutenant," Joe greeted the officer. "Want to sit in here?" he offered.

"Sorry, Joe," the officer refused. "Chief Collig said to station myself outside the room and allow no one unauthorized inside."

"Oh well," Joe said with a sigh because he really had felt like having some company. "Thanks for being my guardian angel."

"Cute," the officer said, laughing. "I'm about as angelic looking as a rhinoceros is cuddly," he added, referring to his rugged appearance and day old growth of beard.

Joe took a closer look at the officer as he left the room. The man had regulation uniform, shoes, and badge but something seemed odd about him. Remembering what the man had said, Joe began to frown. The man had obviously been busy all day. His blood shot hazel eyes were evidence of that as was his beard. Why would Chief Collig assign him to guard Joe all night?

He reached for the telephone, then hesitated. Maybe he was suffering from an over-active imagination. After what he had been through it was to be expected. No, he decided, he had better not call Chief Collig, but he still had this bad feeling. After battling his fears for almost an hour, he picked up the receiver and dialed a number.

"Hello," answered a sleepy voice after the fourth ring.

"Frank?" Joe asked in a whisper.

"Joe?" Frank asked in surprise. "What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up in bed.

"Nothing, maybe," Joe answered. "Is Dad home yet?"

"I'm not sure," was the reply. "What's wrong?" Frank asked again.

"Dad left almost an hour ago," Joe replied, instead of answering. "He should be there by now."

"Joe, you didn't call to check up on Dad," Frank warily stated.

"No," Joe admitted, and then hesitated. "I don't think this guard is the real McCoy," he blurted. He went on to give his reasons for his conclusion.

"Maybe he had a lot of stuff to do at home," suggested Frank soothingly.

"I thought of that," Joe said.

"I hear a but coming," Frank said.

"But there's something about him," Joe replied. "He looks familiar."

"We've seen all the officers at the department at some time or other," Frank reminded him. He wasn't used to his brother getting spooked and it was all he could do to keep himself calm much less Joe.

"No, that’s not it," Joe denied quickly. "I had already considered it. I know... Frank, I saw him in one of the pictures at the morgue. He was one of the employees at the Cragman Fireworks warehouse."

"Are you sure?" Frank demanded.

"Positive," Joe affirmed.

"Call Chief Collig," ordered Frank, jumping out of bed. "I'm on my way over," he added, grabbing his jeans from a nearby chair. Hanging up, he raced down the stairs and to the garage.

Joe looked up as an orderly came into the room followed by the fake guard. "How are you feeling?" asked the orderly, moving over to Joe's left side.

"Great," Joe replied warily.

"Who were you talking to?" the orderly asked. "You really should be resting."

Joe had just hung up with Chief Collig but he wasn't about to tell them. "I called my teacher to tell her my report would be late," Joe fibbed, saying the first thing that popped into his head. "What's that for?" he asked, his blue eyes narrowing in a mixture of f ear and apprehension when the orderly withdrew a needle from his pocket.

"You need to rest," said the guard, closing in on Joe's right.

Joe tossed his pillow in the guard's face and jumped from the bed. The orderly lunged at him, but Joe shoved a chair in his way, causing the orderly to fall over its back. By this time the guard had recovered from the surprise attack and managed to grasp Joe's right arm, pulling him back. Joe's scream for help was abruptly halted when the guard clamped his free hand over Joe's mouth.

"You don't want to do that," Joe was warned. "It would be a pity if someone else had to die as well." Joe struggled to free himself, but it was useless. He was dragged onto the bed. The orderly stood up and walked over to where he had dropped the needle.