Frank came screeching to a stop in the underground garage at the hospital. Hopping out and running toward the elevator, he was halted by an insistent knocking from the stairwell.

"Dad!" he exclaimed on opening the door and seeing his father and another man, dressed only in his underwear, tied up. He removed the gag from his father's mouth.

"See about Joe," Mr. Hardy ordered urgently. Frank shoved his pocketknife into his father's hands, knowing he could cut himself free, and raced up the stairs until he reached the floor Joe was on.

"Hey! Slow down," he heard someone shout as he rushed down the hallway to his brother's room. Throwing the door open he saw Joe being held down by the fake guard while an orderly leaned over him, holding a hypodermic needle which almost touched Joe's arm.

Frank lunged at the orderly, knocking him off balance and causing the needle, once again, to fall to the floor. Turning toward the guard, he froze. The guard had removed his gun and was leveling it at Joe's head.

"Back off kid," growled the guard, pulling Joe to his feet. "Just stay there or Blondie here gets it."

Getting to his feet, the orderly shoved Frank aside and moved out the door followed by the guard who still held Joe like a shield.

"Freeze!" Frank heard a command from the hall as he stepped to the doorway. His father and the real Lieutenant Stevens stood near the stairway. Chief Collig and another officer were blocking the elevator and four more officers were stationed throughout the hall. There were no patients or staff in sight.

"Stay back," ordered the fake guard, his eyes roving the hallway for a means of escape. "Move away from the elevator now or I waste him," he ordered Chief Collig and the officer.

Chief Collig moved a few feet to the left and motioned for the officer with him to do likewise. "Not good enough!" shouted the fake orderly. "Everybody move over by the nurse's station." Chief Collig gave a nod and all did as they had been ordered.

Knowing if they did get out of the building, he was going to be killed anyway, Joe decided to make it as hard on them as possible. About five feet from the nurse's station, he let his body go limp. The sudden drag on his captor's arm brought his attention to Joe and not on the officers who seized him and took the gun before a shot could be fired.

Joe sighed and sank back on the bed. It had been almost an hour since the fake guard and orderly had been arrested. The real Lieutenant Stevens was now stationed outside Joe's door and Chief Collig had just left after questioning Joe about what had taken place before his arrival.

"I always knew homework could be hazardous to your health," grumbled Joe, easing some of the tension in the room.

Laughing, Mr. Hardy tousled Joe’s hair. "Relax, son," he advised, getting serious. "Whatever you've stumbled on is more serious than a mere case of arson. You two are going to be busy the next few days figuring out exactly what is going on."

"What do you mean dad?" asked Frank.

"We know there are at least six people involved," he began. "The two caught tonight, the three who kidnapped Joe from the paper's parking lot, and the head man. We also know that whatever it was Joe found out was worth getting caught in an effort to silence him."

"But I haven't found out anything," Joe pointed out. "And even if I did, everything was in my backpack which went up in flames earlier."

"You must know something you don't think you do," Frank reasoned. "Otherwise this entire case makes no sense."

"It doesn't make any sense under any circumstances as far as I'm concerned," Joe complained.

"We'll have to go back and retrace your steps if we're going to find out what's going on," Frank stated.

"But all the stuff I had was public record," Joe insisted. "Anyone who wants to see it can. What could be so special about it?" he demanded.

"Good point," acknowledged Mr. Hardy. "Did you talk with anyone besides Kevin?"

"Just a couple of people," Joe said. "There was a guy hanging around outside of Dawson's that I spoke with. As a matter of fact, he gave me the idea for my paper."

"What did he say to make you want to research industrial fires?" queried Frank.

"Not industrial fires," Joe denied with a shake of his head. "Chemical spills."

"But Kevin said..." Frank began only to be interrupted by Joe.

"I told Kevin I was interested in industrial fires because I didn't want him to know what I was really after."

"Why not?" Frank demanded.

"Just a feeling I had," Joe replied with a small shrug. "I figured if what the man in front of Dawson's turned out to be true, it would be better if no one knew I was asking questions."

"What do the Dawson fires have to do with a chemical spill?" Frank asked, confused.

"The man mentioned a chemical spill at Dawson's," Joe stated.

"I've never heard of a chemical spill in Bayport," Mr. Hardy said thoughtfully.

"It hasn't happened yet," Joe said. "The man wouldn't give me his name, he just said there was going to be a major spill and the fault lay with the Dawson Chemical Company."

"You believed him?" asked Frank.

"Not really," Joe replied. "I did, however, decide it would make a good topic. After I started my research though, I did begin to wonder."

"Why did you want to see the public records on Dawson Chemical?" Frank asked, stifling a yawn.

"I wanted to know what chemicals they store and ship, and what they do with their waste. I also wanted to look at their financial status," Joe answered.

"Good idea," praised Mr. Hardy. "You two check out the public records tomorrow after Joe's visit to headquarters."

"Tomorrow morning?" asked Frank.

"Today," Mr. Hardy amended, looking at his watch. "I know I said you could solve mysteries as long as it didn't interfere with your education, but I believe an exception is in order here." He paused and looked at each of his sons before continuing. "I received a call from Washington shortly before Joe was found. I don't like leaving right now but..." he shook his head as he broke off.

"We understand Dad," Joe told him.

Mr. Hardy smiled and said, "If you need any help, call Sam Radley." Sam was not only an associate of their father's but also his best friend.

"Sorry," Joe apologized after a particularly long yawn.

"Good night Joe," Mr. Hardy said. "I'll drop in and say good-bye before I leave in the morning."

"Night baby brother," Frank said softly, noticing Joe's even breathing and closed eyes.

"Let's grab a bite to eat before we go to the town hall," suggested Joe the next morning after he and Frank had left the police station.

"We could get Sam to do the research on Dawson," Frank said later, as he sat down with his order of fries and a burger. "That way we could devote the day to going over what you learned at the library and morgue."

"Could the fires have been a trial run to see how the fire department would handle a possible toxic situation?" Joe wondered, his eyes sparkling with a theory.

"What do you mean?" asked Frank with interest.

"Kevin said because of the chemicals stored in the warehouses they had to take extra precautions to protect themselves and the environment. There could have been a major catastrophe if the chemicals had escaped their containment canisters."

"So why didn't something drastic happen?" Frank wanted to know.

"The canisters survived the fires intact," Joe replied.

"Three fires with the potential for a major disaster and nothing happened?" Frank asked in disbelief. "What are the odds of that happening?" he asked, not expecting an answer. "I'm going to call Sam," he said and went in search of a phone.

"He'll call us this evening with the information," Frank told Joe upon his return. "Let's head over to the library."

The boys spent the next few hours pouring over pamphlets, microfiche, and slides as they researched chemical regulations and previous related disasters. Finally, they called it quits and headed home.

"You really picked a big subject," Frank complained to Joe when they were seated at the kitchen table.

"I was going to narrow it down but something came up," Joe said dryly.

"Let's see what we have," Frank said as he and Joe laid their notes on the table.

Joe grinned at Frank. "This is the first time I've had help on an assignment and haven't had to ask for it," he joked.

"Go soak your head," Frank responded, gently rapping Joe on the shoulder.

"The incidents of chemical disasters are on the rise," Joe said. "There have been several acts passed to help control the dangers but because of the vast variety and amount of chemicals, as well as the time it has taken to get some of these things passed, there really hasn't been much of a dent made in their control."

He picked up a note card. "The Toxic Substance Control Act added over sixty thousand chemicals to the label of toxicology but the Environmental Protection Agency doesn't require testing on more than five hundred of them."

Frank gave a low whistle. "That leaves a lot of open territory."

Joe nodded and picked up another card. "A Clean Air Act required companies to post a worst case scenario, but the board that was to ensure compliance was never formed due to lack of funding. What have you got?" He asked Frank.

"An average of one incident occurs every day that involves either an injury, evacuation, or death in the United States alone. Thanks to the EPA, companies are now required to list their toxic inventories. This allows communities to prepare for the worst case scenarios by having chemical spill drills," Frank read from another note card.

"It will also allow us to know what was being stored in Dawson's warehouses," Joe added. "As much as I don't want to, I guess it's time for us to go to the paper's morgue," Joe added, setting the cards in his hands down on the table.

"Joe!" an excited voice greeted the Hardys as they entered the Bayport Times building. "I'm so glad you're all right." Liz came over and gave Joe a bear hug. "Callie called me last night and said you had been found. Are you here to finish your paper?" she asked.

"Thanks," Joe said, a little embarrassed by the attention. "Kind of," he answered her.

"Detective work," she said, understanding. "Gotta go," she added on hearing herself being paged. "Talk to you later."

"You were right," Frank told Joe later. "There isn't anything here that might put you on the endangered species list."

"We knew that," Joe said with a grunt of disgust. "It has to do with one of the people I spoke with," he added. "There's no other explanation."

Returning the slides to the desk, they met Liz again. "Did you find out about the body?" she asked.

"No," Frank answered. "The police haven't turned up any unexplained corpses."

"When you solve this case, I want an exclusive," she told them in a stern voice.

"Would we give it to anyone else?" Joe teased. "See you later," he added, as she returned to her desk. Turning around he bumped a man holding a cup of coffee.

"Sorry," mumbled the man, as coffee spilled all over Joe's shirt. The man quickly departed.

"You can be a klutz," Frank said, smiling as Joe tried unsuccessfully to blot the coffee stain at the water fountain.

Shaking his head, Joe groaned. "This was my favorite shirt."

"Chill," advised Frank. "Mom can get it out." Taking Joe by the arm, he led him outside. "Let's get going," he said. "I want to be home when Sam calls."

"Sam?" Joe asked, as he climbed into the van and laid his head back, closing his eyes.

"Yeah," Frank said, glancing over at Joe. "I called him earlier, remember?'

"Yeah," Joe answered softly, laying a hand on his stomach and grimacing in pain. "I don't feel so good," he added, each word coming out with a great effort.

"What's wrong?" Frank demanded, alarmed as Joe slumped in his seat and his breathing became shallow.