Eighteen-year-old Biff Hooper waited patiently as the large black and tan bloodhound sniffed around the tree. This morning’s walk had taken a bit longer than usual, as the dog had drank lots of water before their trip and was making sure to use up his full tank before going home.  

Stifling a yawn, the muscular teen pulled on the leash gently.  “Come on Sherlock, just how exciting can a tree possibly be?”  

He was just about to pull a bit harder when the big dog raised its ears – well, as much as a bloodhound can - and looked intently towards the small park across the street. At about the same time Biff heard the sounds of a scuffle.  

Behind the park was a wooded area, and the teen realized someone was back there – and whoever it was, it sounded like they were in trouble.  

Sherlock growled and started barking, and Biff paused long enough to tie the dog to the tree he had been investigating. If there was any trouble, he didn’t want the animal getting hurt.  Then checking for traffic, the burly youth crossed the road and quickly moved towards the trees.  

What he saw sent his blood boiling and he threw himself into the fray.  Three guys were beating the crap out of a fourth. 

And the fourth guy Biff recognized – it was his best friend, Joe Hardy!

* * *

To say Peter and company were surprised was an understatement. One moment they were pounding on the blond-haired teenager, and the next Biff Hooper was pounding on them!  

Within moments, the bullies scrambled and took off at a run away from the scene. They weren’t stupid. There might have been three of them…and a bat…but the Hooper kid was not a force to be taken lightly.  

And the fact they were beating up his best friend added an extra ounce of ferocity, as they could almost see the adrenaline coursing through his muscular body….They were way out of their league.  

Biff’s first impulse was to chase after Peter, Todd and Ramon and make sure they understand completely not to mess with his friends. But a soft groan from the slumped form redirected his attention back to his friend.  

“Whoa, take it easy,” Biff said as he gently kept his friend from getting up. The other teen was in a bad way, and Biff knew he needed to get help, but he was unwilling to leave the kid by himself – even for the few moments it would take to call for help. So with the utmost care, Biff picked his friend up and gently carried him out of the wooded area.  

“Take it easy, Joe,” Biff said when he felt his friend stirring in his arms, “You’re okay now.”  

As he carried his friend past Sherlock towards Biff’s own house which was just three houses away, the bloodhound lunged and barked at them.  

“Down Sherlock!” Biff scolded, surprised by the dog’s behavior, “It’s just Joe. I’ll be back for you! STAY!”  

The dog settled down a bit but he still continued to growl and strain at his leash, even after Biff got his friend into the house.  

The dog knew exactly who Biff was carrying….

* * *

Frank trotted back to the house, frustrated. He had tried, in vain, to track his brother but failed miserably. Those few seconds’ delay had cost him greatly.  

He saw Mr. Shaw coming out of the house, and the man nodded curtly to Frank before getting into his car and driving away. Glancing towards his father, who was standing in the open doorway, the teen blanched as he could just imagine the conversation the two men had had.  

Frank could only think of one reason why the man would have come to his house this morning, and as he saw the long-suffering look on his father’s face, he knew he was right.  

“We need to talk about this,” Fenton said as he closed the door after Frank came into the house, “but not right now. I take it you didn’t find your brother.”  

Scowling, Frank shook his head and then followed his father into the kitchen, and watched as Fenton picked up the phone and called the police.  

A few minutes later he hung up the phone and sighed, “Ezra is putting out an APB on Joe, as well as a reminder to the officers that they are dealing with identical twins and to take the proper care if they do see either of them.”  

Thinking of Mackoff, Frank nodded. “That’s a good idea. I swear, if anyone else does that to Joe—”  

“It’ll be okay,” Fenton said, his own thoughts mirroring his son’s.  

Frank looked at him skeptically. “I hope so. Dad…”  

“Yes, son?” Fenton said, grabbing his jacket and preparing to go out and continue searching in his car.  

“What are we going to do if we don’t find him?” Frank’s voice held a note of vulnerability that tugged at his father’s heart, as his son looked much younger than his 18 years; and he sighed – the brothers were so close…too close sometimes….  

“We will find him, Frank. We don’t have a choice.”  

And then the phone rang, cutting off the rest of what he was about to say as Fenton picked it up. “Hardy residence,” he said tersely, and then his face paled as he nodded. “We’re on our way!” and hung up the phone as he looked at his son. “Joe’s on his way to Bayport Memorial – he’s been attacked!”

* * *

The ride to the hospital was a blur for Frank. And as he sat in the waiting room with his parents, he kicked himself for not realizing Joe would have taken off like that.  He had done it two years ago too, when he found out that William was coming to live with them.  

Joe was not normally someone who ran from his problems, but Frank had forgotten that when it came to William, the rules changed….Joe changed.  

Snorting softly, the dark-haired teen could not help but see the irony. The last time Joe had bolted like that, it had ended up the same way – with him being in the hospital.  

The biggest difference this time was that it wasn’t Frank who put him here.  It was Peter Bristol, Todd Russell and Ramon Theirry, or so Biff had told them when they first got to the hospital.  

Biff had called the Hardys right after he called the paramedics, and they all arrived at the hospital at about the same time, although Biff had come in his own car.  

Officer Con Riley strode into the waiting room and sought out Fenton. “Any word yet?” He had come to talk to Biff while another unit had been dispatched to pick up the bullies.  

Fenton glanced up from where he was sitting between his wife and son, and shook his head.  “Nothing yet.”  

Just then a tall black man came into the waiting room and, although he hadn’t seen him in a while, Frank jumped to his feet, recognizing the man right away.  

“Dr. Greenland!” he greeted, noting the grim look on the doctor’s face. Dr. Greenland had been the ER doctor who treated Joe two years ago after William’s last attack – and he still had very white teeth!  

“Frank. Mr. Hardy. Mrs. Hardy,” the doctor said as he shook the teenager’s hand and then nodded to Fenton and Laura, “Please have a seat.” He carried a chart, and flipped it open as he sat down across from the family.  

Biff and Con stood a little to the side, giving them some privacy while still being near enough to hear what the physician was going to say.  

“Well the good news is, Joe will be okay.” Everyone sighed in relief and the doctor offered them a thin smile before continuing, “Your son was beaten by three other young men – and a bat, I do believe…” his voice trailed off as he looked up at the officer, but it was Biff who nodded and said:  

“Yes, that’s right.”  

Dr. Greenland nodded and said, “He is very lucky then that other then a mild concussion, he has no broken bones, just a wide assortment of bruises and a couple of lacerations. The worst of which was on his temple and it took three stitches to close it. It should heal without scarring. Other than that, he’ll be a bit sore for the next week or so, but I’m not anticipating any problems.”  

“Oh thank goodness,” Laura said as she gave a little smile, “Can we see him now?”  

“Of course,” the doctor said, standing back up. “I would like to keep him for a couple more hours for observation. It’s a standard precaution with a concussion, even a mild one.”  

“That makes sense,” Fenton admitted as they bid goodbye to Biff and Con, and followed Dr. Greenland into the ER treatment area.  

“Now, he is bit disoriented,” the ER doctor warned them, “but again that’s not unusual with a concussion. So try to keep him as quiet as possible.”  

He led them to a small curtained area and indicated for them to go in. “I’ll be by to check him in an hour.” And then the doctor left.  

Frank pulled open the curtain and fought back the anger when he got a good look at his brother. If Peter and his buddies were here right now, the hospital would have gotten three more patients!  

“Hey little brother,” the older boy said softly as he took his brother’s hand. His mother took the other one and leaned forward to give him a kiss on his forehead, mindful of the bandage that was wrapped loosely around it.  

“Oh baby,” Laura whispered in consideration of his aching head, while Fenton stood at the foot of the bed and smiled at the patient.  

“Hi son, how you feeling?”  

The patient in the bed frowned at them for a moment as he looked from one face to the other. And then he leaned back and closed his eyes.  His head was throbbing and he was a bit confused. This didn’t make sense…no sense at all….  

But then as William Doe opened his eyes again and looked up at the concerned faces, he said tentatively, “Dad? Mom? Frank?”  

And as they nodded at him and smiled, obviously relieved that he recognized them, William couldn’t help but think – now this is an interesting turn of events isn’t it??

 

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.