“They’re here again, Frank.”  Joe bounced onto his brother’s bed, joggling the older boy.  Frank was sitting with his back to the headboard, reading a book; he looked up and pushed back his hair, letting the book lie down on his lap.

“Who is?”

“That man and woman, the government people.  They’re talking to Mom.”

“I didn’t hear ‘em knock,” Frank remarked, quickly setting the book aside.  “Did they say anything interesting?”

“Not really,” Joe admitted, scrambling right back off the bed and following Frank out of his bedroom.  “They haven’t found Dad yet, and they’re trying to make some sort of plan- but they’re using all that grown-up talk, so I can’t tell what it is.  Co-ver-something.”

“Shhh,” Frank cautioned in a whisper, waving a distracted hand.  Joe frowned, not liking to be hushed, but he hushed anyway.  They didn’t want the agents to hear them and stop talking.

The two boys paused at the top of the stairs, listening to the voices that came drifting up.  After a few moments, Frank slowly moved down a step or two.  Joe followed, trying to move as silently as his brother did, but a stair creaked softly at his weight and he winced.  Frank shot him a dark look but didn’t say anything; probably the adults downstairs would hear him if he did speak.

“So all you came to tell me is that you haven’t made any progress finding my husband and you’re still trying to work out a viable exchange plan.”  The voice of his mother caught Joe’s attention and he chewed on his lip when he heard those sad, worried words.   

“We know they’re holding him somewhere in Bayport,” the man insisted.  “The difficulty is in fixing their exact location.  And we can’t appear to be overtly searching- we don’t want to spook them into moving, or worse, provoke them into doing anything rash.  We have opened negotiations for the release of McConnell, but we’d prefer not to release him if we can avoid it.  That’s a contingency plan- primarily a stalling tactic, but we’ll utilize it if it becomes necessary.”

“How can you be so sure they are here in Bayport if you haven’t been able to ‘fix their exact location’?” Aunt Gertrude’s voice asked.  She sounded both sharp and tired.

“We’ve got the city sealed up, Miss Hardy,” the government woman started. 

“That doesn’t mean they didn’t slip out of Bayport before Fenton was reported missing.”

“All of the contacts we’ve had have been by phone, and we’ve traced the calls.  They’re all local numbers- pay phones.”

“So, maybe they left one of them behind to negotiate while the rest skipped out!” Gertrude snapped.  “There are more ways into and out of this city than most- have you forgotten the Bay?  The rivers?  Are you absolutely positive they didn’t slip out in a boat some night?”

“The Bay and the waterways have been patrolled,” the man said patiently.  “All boats are checked- and the airfields, all private and public planes are cleared by our agents before takeoff.  We want these men, Miss Hardy- they slipped through our fingers once and we don’t plan to let it happen again.  We also don’t plan to lose our most crucial witness or one of the most wanted espionage agents in the country.”

“Which is exactly what might happen if you don’t find Mr. Hardy and keep that McConnell man behind bars,” the boys’ aunt grumbled.  “Planning seldom has much to do with anything, or there would never be a need for contingency plans.”

“What’s ‘es pe o nage’?” Joe whispered to his brother. 

“Spying,” Frank whispered back.

“Who’s up there?” the man’s voice demanded suddenly, and both boys started violently.  Joe lost his balance and his heel thudded on the next step down.  He grabbed the handrail, caught his balance, and sighed in relief for having not tumbled head over heels down the stairs. 

“Up there?” Mom was saying.  “Just the boys.  Why- oh.  Boys, come on down,” she added, and Joe sheepishly slunk down the rest of the steps, wondering how she’d known.  Frank followed, and Joe could feel the annoyance his brother was radiating.

“And just what were you two doing?” Gertrude asked when she saw them.  Joe didn’t answer, feeling rather intimidated by the frowns the government man and woman were giving him and Frank.

“Listening, what else?” Mom said wryly.  “Boys, it’s not polite to eavesdrop, you know that.  Why don’t you two go outside while I talk with Agents Dahmer and Keen?  Most of this won’t make a lot of sense to you anyway; it’s complicated,” she added, seeing Joe’s pout.  “I’ll explain it to you a little later.”

“Oh, all right,” Frank grumbled, grabbing Joe’s arm and pulling him towards the door.  He didn’t say anything as he led Joe outside and down the steps, nor even as he walked quickly along the sidewalk.  Joe trotted alongside, wondering if his brother was very angry.  He wished he hadn’t been so clumsy.

“Sorry,” the blond boy ventured at last.

“It wasn’t your fault, not really,” was the surprising reply.  “I think that guy heard me talk.  I shouldn’t’ve said anything out loud.”

“Oh.  Well, sorry anyway, I shouldn’t’a whispered.  Frank, can you slow down a little?” Joe puffed.  It was a hot morning, even though the sky was gray with clouds.

“Sure.”  Frank slowed down and, after a moment, let go his grip on Joe’s sleeve.  “Didn’t think I was going that fast,” he added, swiping his arm across his forehead.  “But it’s too hot to be jogging.”

“Yeah.”  Joe was quiet for a while, thinking.  If Frank wasn’t mad at him, then maybe...  “You still mad at Mom for yesterday?” he asked after they’d walked for several blocks.

“Kinda, I guess,” Frank admitted.  “You could tell?”

“Yeah.  A little growly.” 

“Didn’t mean to growl at you.  I’m not really mad at her, I just haven’t forgiven her yet.  I know she was busy, but she shouldn’t have been that busy, and- well, you know.  And her telling us to leave made me pretty annoyed, too.”

“Me, too.  He’s our Dad,” Joe sighed.   “They should tell us what’s going on.”

“Yeah.  Grown-ups.”  Frank gave a snort and shook his head.  “Think they always know what’s best.”

Joe nodded and the two walked in in silence for a while.  Joe watched a robin flutter to the branch of a nearby tree, saw green leaves sway in the light breeze, smiled as a squirrel scampered across a street-spanning power line.  Abruptly, he paused, looking around and experiencing a sudden lift of his spirits.  Even with everything that was going on now, it was so good to be able to see!  Glancing at Frank, who had stopped a few steps ahead of him, he grinned at his brother’s fond smile.

“Great, isn’t it?”

“Yeaaahh...”  Joe turned a slow circle to take in the entire block, stopping when he got back to his brother.  “So- where’re we gonna go?”

“Playground?”  Frank didn’t sound enthusiastic, though.

“No...and not the treehouse, either.  I don’t really feel like doing much.”

“Me, neither.  Well...let’s walk a while and see if we think of something interesting.”

“Okay.” 

Five blocks later, the boys were in the thick of the uptown small-business area.  The trees were gone and both sides of the road alternated between multilevel office buildings, several freestanding businesses, and shopping strips.   As they paused to wait for a WALK sign at an intersection, Joe made a suggestion.  “Let’s go into the Quik-Stop-” he pointed up at the next block, where the triangular sign stood on its pole “-and get something cold to drink.  It’s too hot out here.”

“Good idea.  I’ve got a dollar and some change.”  Frank pulled it out.

“I have...”  Joe paused to count.  “Seventy-two cents.”

“So we can get a juice and a sprinkled donut and share ‘em when we want to.  And I’m carrying the donut,” Frank asserted, looking sternly at Joe.  “If you carry it, you’ll start peeling the sugar and sprinkles off and eating ‘em!”

Joe sighed, but didn’t debate the point.  “Okay.”

With the donut wrapped in waxed paper and the flavor of juice finally decided on, the boys made their purchase and found they had fifty-one cents left.  That was enough to make a phone call or two if necessary, as Frank pointed out when they slipped back out into the heat of the summer day.  “We don’t want to get Mom worried, after all.  She might think we got captured, too.”

Joe looked gravely at his brother, nodding.  “D’you think she really will tell us what’s going on?” he asked wistfully.  “She didn’t say much the last time they were there, just that they were looking all over Bayport and checking everyone who left.”

“Well, I hope so,” Frank replied, frowning.  “She said she would, so she’ll tell us at least some.  But it sure did sound complicated.  I know what a conspiracy is- that’s like when people make a secret and then cover it up and pretend it’s not happening- but I dunno what contingency is.”

Joe reflected on that for a while, wishing he knew as much of the adult vocabulary as his brother did.  All that reading, he supposed; and Frank was extra smart anyway.  He should have been starting seventh grade this school year, but he’d gotten very sick in third grade, missed half the year, and had to take it over again with Joe.  They’d even been in the same class.  So they’d be in sixth grade together when school started again, and Joe was glad of that.  He wouldn’t’ve wanted to be alone in sixth while his brother was alone in seventh...

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Huh?”

“You’re frowning.”

“Oh.  School,” Joe explained.  “I’m glad we’re in the same grade, though I wish you hadn’t got sick for so long.”

“Boy, so do I.  That wasn’t fun,” Frank murmured, sighing.  “Chicken pox, then flu, then bronchitis, then that horrible pneumonia.”

“And they thought there was something else, too, didn’t they?”

“Yeah, thought I had jaundice or something, I’m glad I didn’t.”  Frank grimaced.  Joe wondered what that might be, but didn’t ask.

“Thought of something to do?” he asked, changing the subject as he noticed that they were more than halfway through the business district.  Nothing looked very appealing, and nothing seemed particularly fun to think about.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to have fun anyway; it was enough just to walk and talk, to see things and be with his brother and not feel guilty.   

Frank shook his head.  “Let’s just keep walking and see if something interesting happens.”

***

About an hour later, the Hardy boys had left the city a mile behind and were walking along one of the smaller roads that led into Bayport from the outlying farms.  Nothing particularly interesting had happened yet, but they were both feeling better for the change.  It seemed to Frank that it was cooler out in the open air than in the city streets.  For one thing, there was a good deal more of a breeze, despite the heat waves that rose from the asphalt.  The land around them was mostly wide-open fields with the frequent elm or oak tree standing sentinel amid the tall grass.

When the ditch beside the road’s shoulder turned to a culvert with water trickling through it, Joe suggested they take a break.  Frank quickly agreed, remembering that his brother hadn’t been eating or sleeping too well for three days out of four and was probably getting tired faster than usual.  Accordingly, the two dropped to the thick, rather itchy grass under the next tree and leaned against the smooth, fat trunk.  Frank had to shift around a little before he wasn’t sitting on a root, but the breeze blowing past felt wonderful on his skin.  The musical sound of the water trickling past was soothing and Frank closed his eyes for a moment, only to open them again at the sound of a soft plop.

“Joe?”

“Mmm?”  The younger boy was leaning over the watery ditch and didn’t turn around.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m putting the bottle in the water so it’ll cool down the juice and we can drink some,” Joe explained.  “I’m a little thirsty.”

“Oh.  Good thinking,” Frank mused, and let his eyes close again.  The sound of grasshoppers whirring nearby was a sleep-inducing buzz in his head- right up until one jumped onto his arm, making him start.  “Go away, dratted bug,” he muttered, shaking his arm until his uninvited guest departed.  Joe, who had settled back and was looking up at the pale-blue sky, grinned over at him. 

“At least it wasn’t a mosquito.”

“True,” Frank agreed, and was quiet again.  It was nice, just sitting there, not worrying, not really thinking of anything.  It was good to be with Joe and be quiet and just be together.  He didn’t even look at his watch, so when Joe pulled bottle of juice from the cold water and opened it, Frank had no idea how long it had taken to cool the liquid down.  But it tasted good, sweet and refreshing.

It was as Joe was putting the cap back on the bottle that the boys heard a car coming, the first they’d encountered since they left the city limits.  Frank glanced down the road with mild interest- interest that intensified as a battered white pickup truck came into sight.  “That looks like Tony’s Dad’s truck,” he remarked, sitting up straighter.

Joe put the bottle down and looked up.  “I think it is,” he agreed. 

A few moments later, the truck pulled to the side of the road.  The boys exchanged a surprised glance as Mr. Prito got out and leaned over the hood to speak to them.  “You two all right?”

“Sure, we’re fine,” Frank started, and then grinned as two familiar young faces popped up from the truck bed.  “Hey, guys!” he greeted Tony Prito and Chet Morton.  “We were just walking and stopped to cool down a little,” he added quickly to Tony’s father.  “Couldn’t find anything interesting to do at home.”

“Come out to the site with us,” Tony called, waving them towards the truck.  “Papi’s working on a building out on the Shore Road, we can look around together.”

Frank glanced at Joe, who nodded eagerly.  “Okay,” the older Hardy agreed, standing up.  Then, belatedly, he looked at Mr. Prito, who was grinning. 

“Sure, plenty of room back there- all my supplies are already on the site,” he explained, walking to the rear of the truck.  Unlatching the door, he waited while Joe grabbed up the bottle of juice, then helped both the boys climb inside.  “Now, you keep your heads and arms in the truck, because if a car comes along and knocks it off, I don’t stop.  You just have to get by without the body part until we’re on the way back,” he warned the Hardys.  His tone was teasing but the warning was clearly meant quite seriously, and Frank resolved to make sure Joe obeyed it.

“Where exactly are we going?” Joe asked Tony, who had scooted over to sit beside Chet on the left side of the truck, leaving the right side for the Hardys. 

“I’m not sure, this is the first time he’s taken me out there,” Tony answered as the truck started moving again.  “He says there used to be a lot of grand big houses out there; now they’re mostly old ruins, ‘cause the owners left or died.  This one, the owner died and the people who bought the property want to build a private school.  So he’s doing that; he pulled down the old house and cleared everything out and now there’s a school plan he’s working from.”

“A school!” Joe repeated in dismay.  “I don’t wanna go near some old school, even if it’s not old yet.  We’ll have to go to our own soon enough without getting close to this one now!”

Frank tried not to laugh; his brother’s point was valid, even if his manner of stating it was a bit peculiar.  “We don’t have to go near the school- we can look around and explore.  Maybe there’s one of those old houses nearby,” he added with a twinkle at Chet, who looked nervous.

“No way, I’m not going near an old house.  It might be haunted- ‘specially if someone died in it!”

“We won’t go in,” Joe suggested.  “Just look.  There might be apple trees or blueberry bushes or something...”

Chet eyed his friend dubiously, then sighed.  “Well, there might, I guess we can look,” he agreed, but without enthusiasm.

“Papi has a water cooler at the site, so we can come back and get a drink if we get thirsty,” Tony remarked.  “Nothing to eat, but we won’t stay long, he’s just taking measurements.  Then he goes back to the shop to do all his cutting, and when they’re cut, he brings the boards out.  The circle saw is too heavy to drag out this far and back again.”

Frank exchanged a glance with Joe, remembering their donut and knowing it wouldn’t go far among the four of them.  Joe looked almost stricken, but then he nodded and heaved a sigh.  “We bought a donut,” Frank began, patting his pocket, and Chet’s gaze was suddenly riveted on him.  “But it’s only one, ‘cause we didn’t have enough money for two, so we’ll save it till we’re really hungry and then split it in four.”

Chet fidgeted for a moment.  “I’ve got some M and M’s,” he confessed at last.  “But they might be melty by now.”

“Maybe they’ll unmelt if you put ‘em in the shade.”

“Unmelt?” Frank echoed, looking at his brother.

“Whatever.”

“Maybe,” Chet murmured.  “Anyway, it won’t matter much, I can eat a melting M and M just as easy as an- unmelted one.  And I guess you guys can too.”

“Certainly,” Tony answered, grinning.  “I could eat an M and M if it was chopped into two-thousand pieces.”

Chet looked at him with a quizzical frown.  “How have you done that?” he asked.

“He puts it in the blender,” Joe responded before Tony could, and all four of the boys exploded into laughter.

***

As Joe had half-expected, the new-school construction site was not very interesting.  The house had been located among a clump of trees, but many of these had been chopped down to make room for the larger building.  Even the stumps had been torn out, and the ground rolled smooth for the concrete foundation.  There wasn’t much more than that done, though there were piles of lumber, huge squares of fresh red bricks, bags of concrete and stacks of plywood and the odd, heavy drywall slabs lying around.  Most of these were covered over with sheets of clear plastic, in case of rain or fog.  There were also a couple white-plastic tubs of what Tony said was plaster.  Joe found a nail lying underfoot in the grassy mud, but other than that there were no tools.

On the other hand, watching Mr. Prito was interesting- for a while.  He had on a tough canvas coverall with plenty of tools in it: a hammer, a small level, three different-sized screwdrivers, a pair of gloves, and a measuring tape.  He also had a folder with the school plans in it, a pencil and a piece of blue chalk.  The four boys watched as he measured and wrote and made marks on the concrete and measured some more.

After about ten minutes of measuring, Joe decided he was bored.  The sun was beating down on the clearing, making him hot, so he walked over to the water cooler that stood in the nearest shade and got a long drink of water.  A few minutes later, Chet joined him, then Frank, and finally Tony wandered over.  “Let’s look for those blueberry bushes,” Joe suggested, and when Chet hesitated, the younger Hardy added, “or at least somewhere cool to eat our stuff.  Maybe we’ll find another little river and stick our feet in it.”

“That’s a great idea,” Tony agreed at once.  “Papi, we’re going to look around,” he called, half turning.

“All right, but stay on the road.  Don’t wander off and get lost in the woods, and boys, don’t go into any of the empty houses. You can look at the yards, but stay out of the houses,” Mr. Prito cautioned, looking up briefly.  “It’s trespassing, and besides that, they aren’t safe.  I’ve looked over a few and it’s a wonder they’re still standing- they might decide to come crashing down any minute.”

“We’ll stay out of them,” Frank promised, and he gave Joe a stern look.  Joe, not too thrilled at being singled out when he hadn’t even done anything wrong yet, scowled and turned to lead the way back out to the road.

The trees closed in almost as soon as they were on the road, making a cool green tunnel through which the boys walked.  Joe remembered to walk on the right side of the road, despite the fact that they hadn’t seen any cars since they got there.  It was a narrow road and there was almost no shoulder at all before the trees started; they had to go in single-file. 

About ten minutes’ walk later, the boys reached a fork in the road; the paved road continued westward out of the forest and across another hot meadow.  The other road, now dirt, dipped down through the woods and went east towards the ocean.  The boys unanimously decided on the ocean road and soon passed the first several decaying old homes.  Pausing to stare through rusty iron gates and mossy stone barriers, the boys quietly speculated about the people who might’ve lived there and which grimy or broken windows might have opened into what room.

“I’m hungry,” Chet announced after they left the fourth such house behind.

“I am, too,” Joe agreed, turning around to walk backwards.  “Let’s stop looking at houses and look for somewhere good to sit down.”  The old, empty homes had lowered his spirits somewhat; it seemed a shame that people would build such beautiful houses and then abandon them to sadly fall apart.  He wondered if the homes missed their owners, if they felt bad- like people who were sick and lonesome.

“Okay,” Frank agreed.  “Looks like we’re leaving the woods,” the older boy added, and Joe turned around to look.  Frank was right; the trees were thinning somewhat.  Then he paused, hearing a familiar noise ahead of them. 

“Hey- I hear waves!”

“Waves?  Are we near the beach?” Tony asked curiously.

“Well, we came towards the ocean, so probably.”

“So let’s eat on the beach!” Chet put in brightly.

The other three agreed and picked up their rather languid pace.  The shoulder had widened out a bit and they were now able to walk two-abreast, so as they reached the top of a small rise in the road, Frank saw what was ahead of them at the same time Joe did.  Both the Hardys stopped in surprise at the unexpected sight, but Joe jumped forward a second later as Chet trod on his heel.  “Ow, watch out.”

“Sorry.  Why’d you- whoa!”

The road directly ahead had clear meadows on either side for a few dozen yards, but then it curved, passing through another stretch of forest that spread over the land on both sides of the road.  To the boys’ left were tree-covered fields; to their right, the view was more dramatic.  The woods thinned out and then stopped altogether, leaving a clear grassy space of about two hundred yards.  After that, there simply wasn’t any more ground; the land ended abruptly, dropping down to the sea below.  The sound of the waves was fairly loud and the strong wind carried the unmistakable tang of salt.

“Cliffs!” Tony blurted.  “Well, I guess we won’t eat on the beach after all!”

“We might,” Joe said doubtfully.  “If we can get down there, but getting back up will be a pain.”

Frank nodded.  “We can look, but I don’t think we want to get too close.  Cliffs tend to fall, especially when there’s water around.”

“How come?” Chet asked.

“Mudslides, and landslides,” Frank explained succinctly.  “Water makes dirt weak.”

“Oh, yeah.”  Chet fell in beside Joe as Frank took the lead, cutting off the curve by leaving the road and walking straight for the woods.  Grasshoppers leaped and insects buzzed as they pushed through the thick grass.  Joe wiped sweat from his face and neck as he walked and was glad when they got under the shade of the tall trees.  The trunks were so close together that they cut off a lot of the breeze, but it was an improvement over the hot field. 

A little ways into the wood, the boys discovered a wide, slow-moving creek and paused, tempted to sit down right there and eat.  However, they decided to check out the cliff view first and come back to cool off in the creek if they couldn’t get down to the beach.  After a few more minutes’ struggle with branches, vines, sticks and weeds, they left the woods behind, moving back into the open and tromping through knee-high grass.  Frank, still in the lead, approached the cliffs with care, peering warily over the edge from several feet away. 

“We’re definitely not going down there,” Joe decided after only a brief peek.  The cliff wall was sheer and smooth, and down at the far-away bottom where the waves were breaking, the water was rough with boulders that looked like teeth.  “No beach, anyway,” he added philosophically, taking a few nonchalant steps back.  Chet, who hadn’t gotten as close, just nodded.  Tony, showing an unexpected streak of daring, moved closer to the edge than even Joe- who was no stranger to daredevil feats- would have gone.  The blond boy was rather relieved when Frank quietly told their friend not to stand so close and Tony obeyed with a shrug.  Then his black eyes widened and he pointed. 

“Look!”

Joe turned and stared in surprise.  The area where they were standing was the furthest extension outward of the cliff edge; as the shoreline ran on northward, it dipped back towards the road.   The trees directly behind the boys formed a living screen; Joe couldn’t see Shore Road from here.  And it was a good bet that no one on Shore Road could see the big old stone house that stood several yards away.

The house stood facing the ocean, obviously abandoned but in far better shape than the ones the boys had passed earlier.  It had been built in the wide strip between forest and cliff edge, well clear of the trees but tucked in among them. 

“Another house,” Joe said wonderingly.  “And we couldn’t see it from the road because of the trees.  If you didn’t know it was here, you could pass it and never guess someone used to live around here.”  

“Yeah.  I wonder if they did that on purpose,” Frank mused.  “Sorta seems like it’s hiding around a corner- three corners, really, I bet you can’t see it from the other side, either- only there weren’t any corners, so maybe they made ‘em with trees.”

“Looks like,” Tony agreed with a rather professional air.  “Anyone who had the money to haul all that stone out here and build out at the edge of a cliff could pay to have trees- big trees, not saplings- brought in and planted.  Or maybe the woods was just there and they didn’t cut any of it down,” he added after a moment’s thought.  “Let’s go look at it.”

“Let’s not!” Chet protested.  “We were gonna eat!”

Joe, feeling hot, sweaty, hungry and thirsty and generally disinclined to explore at the moment, agreed at once.

“We need some energy,” Frank cast his vote.  “At least, I do!” 

“Okay, we can look at the house afterwards, I guess,” Tony gave in cheerfully.

The first thing Joe did when they got back to the creek was to sit down on a rock and pull off his socks and shoes.  The cold water felt wonderful on his hot skin as he stuck his feet in almost to his knees.  His companions all followed his example, though Tony had to pull up the legs of his jeans first.  Then Joe drew out the juice bottle and held it in the water to cool, wondering if they could drink from the stream itself.  Given the choice, he thought he’d prefer water to juice, though juice was certainly better than nothing.

Meanwhile, Chet busied himself with taking out his candy packet and finding a cool stone to lay it on.  “If it was waterproof, I’d put it in the river like your bottle,” he told Joe. 

“D’you think we could drink this?” Joe asked his brother, gesturing at the creek.  Frank frowned.

“Probably better not to,” he replied.  “You never know what’s in it.”

Joe sighed, thinking of how thirsty he’d be after eating half-melted chocolate, and remarked, “I wish we’d brought some water along.” 

“We did.”  Tony grinned and produced a small portable sport-bottle full of water.  He held it up, then leaned over to dunk it into the water next to Joe’s juice.

“Yay for Tony!” Joe cried, and his friend’s dark face seemed to turn a little reddish as Chet and Frank cheered too.