Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

The long cold snap that had begun before the Christmas holiday showed no signs of coming to an end, and the young people of Bayport were determined to make the best of every minute of it. The cold clear day in the week between Christmas and New Year Day found them in groups of dozens and scores on the frozen surface of Barmet Bay, surrounded by the snow-blanketed hills to the west and the black water far away to the east beyond the bay where King Frost had lost his ice-bound battle with the Atlantic.

The colorfully clad figures of ice skaters glided and spun in the numerous coves along the shoreline. Farther out beyond them, ice-boats raced in the wind with billowing sails on the open reaches of the bay, looking like a frenetic flight of whirling wheeling gulls.

Frank Hardy, a dark handsome boy of sixteen, a scarf carelessly wrapped around his neck atop a thick red sweater, sped backwards over the ice on one of the smooth little natural rinks that lined the rugged shoreline.

"Be careful! I wouldn't chance it if I were you," warned his brother Joe, a fair curly-haired boy who was a year Frank's junior. "You can hurt yourself trying to do a back flip!"

"He's darn tootin' right," agreed their plump good-natured friend Chet Morton. The brows on his round wind-burned face were furrowed in concern. "If you misjudge your moves, Frank, you could bang your head on the ice!"

But Frank Hardy only cast them an amused glance as he gathered speed, looking back over his shoulder.

"Oh, be careful," pleaded Callie Shaw, a pretty brown-haired girl who was Frank's particular favorite among the girls at Bayport High. She wrung her hands worriedly in their pretty knitted mittens.

"Right, Frank, you could really get injured," agreed Iola Morton in anxious tones. She was Chet's sister, cute and pleasantly plump, and she was more than reluctantly admired by the bashful Joe.

Frank chuckled as he whisked backward through the frosty air. "Don't be such fussbudgets! I've practiced this a thousand times."

Joe sniffed indignantly. "Sure he did. All last summer while he was sitting in an easy chair at home, imagining doing it!"

The girls skated closer to Joe and Chet and held onto their arms in consternation as Frank proceeded to pick up speed. The foursome watched, mouths agape, as Frank's feet suddenly shot up in front of him and his head dropped down as he executed a perfect back flip on the ice.

It was all so fast and quick, and the watchers held their breath collectively as Frank spun under and over in what seemed to be the mere blink of an eye. The blades of his skates clanked solidly onto the ice and he was again upright and whisking backwards, a wide splitting grin on his face.

He made a little jump and then did a triple spin, then came to an unexpected heart-thumping stop with a backward scrape of the toe of his blade.

"Super!" Joe exclaimed in delight and relief. "That was excellent!"

Chet nodded in agreement, his face astonished. "Wow! That sure was swell. But you can bet I'll never try it!"

Iola spun happily around on her blades. "Frank Hardy, you're a marvel!"

Callie applauded with her mittened hands. "Bravo! You could skate in an ice show."

Other folk who had been skating in the cove glided over to congratulate Frank on his well-done back flip. With a happy smile, he accepted their praise and gave a little bow.

"You see," he said at length, rejoining his brother and their chums, "I spent a lot of time picturing that flip in my mind. If you picture yourself doing something enough times then ... poof! ... you can do it."

Joe didn't look very convinced. "Or ... poof! ...you can bang your head on the ice and crack your skull!"

Frank looked at him disdainfully. "You're beginning to sound like Aunt Gertrude!"

He was referring to their maiden aunt, their father's sister, a bossy and dictatorial lady with a temper as hot as the number of years of her age. She had been staying with the Hardy family for a prolonged visit during the holidays.

Joe grimaced and punched Frank's arm playfully. "I promise never to criticize you again, even if you try going over Niagara Falls in a barrel. I'd rather zip my lips shut forever than become another Aunt Gertrude!"

The friends all laughed at the amusing remark and then they began to skate again, spinning around on the smooth surface in carefree abandon amongst the other outdoor winter enthusiasts.

"Let's race over to the ice-boat," Callie suggested.

She pointed out of the little cove to the open bay where a stoutly built homemade ice-boat was anchored. Its colorful sail was rolled up and strapped to the mast to help keep the boat anchored securely on the open ice.

The others eagerly took up the challenge, and the gay youngsters set off over the glistening surface with joysome zest.

"Last one there is a chimpanzee!" shouted Chet, as he lumbered his substantial bulk along with the others.

His sister chuckled as she and the others all shot ahead of Chet. She did a little toe dance on her blade tips. "And it looks like it's going to be you, Mr. Monkey Business!"

Joe reached the ice-boat first, closely followed by Frank and Callie. Iola came in right after them and they all turned to watch Chet as he trailed behind.

"Well?" he quipped, huffing in annoyance at their mirthful expressions. "So I'm a monkey. It's better than being a baboon, like you guys."

Callie rolled her eyes and gazed up to the sunny blue sky. "Hmmmm...," she mused, then:

"Monkey, baboon, chimpanzee,

which is the better

or the worst of the three?

Just ask Chet.

You can bet

he's been every kind of monkey

a boy can be!"

Frank guffawed and Joe and the girls burst into laughter. The hapless Chet huffed up to the ice-boat quite out of breath and very indignant.

He gave them all an ornery look. "Go ahead and laugh. You'll see. One of these days my name will be up there in lights and you'll all be sorry you didn't suck up to me when you had the chance."

This profound statement caused a fresh burst of laughter.

Joe leaned against the ice-boat and pointed up to the top of the cliffs. "You mean up there? Your name in lights?"

Callie chuckled. "Yes, right up there on top of the cliffs. 'Chet Morton' in six-foot high letters."

Frank grinned. "All the kids in Bayport will use it for target practice. Ten cents a round. Shoot out Chet Morton's lights!"

Grumbling to himself, Chet ignored this chaff of his comrades and climbed into the trim little ice-boat. He sat down with a grunt. "Maybe we ought to go for a ride? This ice skating has got me tired out already."

He pulled a shiny red apple from his pocket and took a big bite.

The others exchanged amused expressions. They had been on the ice only twenty minutes or so, but it was no great surprise that Chet had tired out so quickly. He usually did, no matter what they were doing.

They had sailed out to the cove earlier on the ice-boat along with their friend Biff Hooper and his ice-boat. Biff didn't care to ice skate, so he was now out on the bay scudding over the ice in his speedy craft, which had been a Christmas gift from his father.

Frank and Joe's ice-boat, however, had been wrought from their very own hands. It represented several weeks of hard labor on their part. It was staunch and stoutly built and it sped over the ice as swift as any other. The boys were justifiably proud of their handiwork.

Chet took another bite of his apple. "Ice-boating beats ice skating all to pieces anyway."

Joe snickered. "You prefer it because you don't have to do anything but sit down."

"And what's wrong with sitting down, may I ask?" Chet harrumphed. "You fellows think that every minute of every day one has to be doing something exerting!"

Frank rolled his eyes as the others tittered in amusement. "Well, we can't all fit in this craft," he reminded Chet. "We have to wait for Biff to return before we can take off again."

"Why, that looks like him now," Iola declared, pointing out on the bay.

Joe peered ahead, shielding his eyes from the bright sun with his hand. "Sure thing. That's Biff, all right, heading this way. And he sure seems to be in a hurry."

Biff's craft was bearing down on them at a rate of speed at which the boy normally wouldn't sail. Frank and Joe and the others wondered why he was in such a hurry.

"Look," cried Callie. "He's pointing up to his mast and sail!"

The others could see Biff wildly gesturing upward. They exchanged perplexed expressions, not knowing why the boy was gesticulating.

"What's wrong? What does he want?" Chet asked, rising to his feet.

Frank's brows knit in thought for a moment, then, "I think he wants us to unfurl our sail and be ready to take off when he gets here."

"That's the ticket!" piped Chet, shoving his half-eaten apple into his jacket pocket. "Something must be happening out there and he wants us to go with him to check it out."

He unstrapped the sail and Joe jumped into the ice-boat to help him unfurl it. By the time Biff neared them in his trim craft, the Hardy boys' boat was ready to go.

"What in thunder is up?" Frank shouted to the boy.

Biff bore down on his tiller to bring his ice-boat to a skidding halt. His expression was one of keen excitement.

"There's a fire on Cabin Island!" he shouted. "The old log cabin is burning!"

Frank and Joe, along with Chet and Biff, had recently stayed in the old cabin on Cabin Island over the Christmas holiday and had experienced many exciting adventures. During a severe winter storm, an old tree had fallen and hit the cabin, destroying the huge chimney and fireplace and exposing a missing stamp collection of great value that had been hidden there many years before. The boys had returned the collection to its rightful owner, Elroy Jefferson, the owner of Cabin Island, and had been well-rewarded for their efforts.

Now, it was hard to believe that the damaged cabin they had recently vacated was on fire!

Frank voiced that opinion. "Someone must have set it on fire purposely!"

"This is awful!" Joe agreed. "Mr. Jefferson will be horrified."

Biff pointed northward up the bay. "Look, you can see the smoke billowing up. All the ice-boats are speeding in that direction. Let's go!"

Further urging was not necessary. Chet jumped from the Hardys' craft and he and Iola climbed into Biff's ice-boat. Frank and Callie climbed in with Joe, and Frank took the tiller. Seconds later both ice-boats were racing in the wind upshore to Cabin Cove, one of the largest coves on Barmet Bay, in which lay Cabin Island.

Alongside them, the high gloomy cliffs rose sheer from the icy rock-bound shore. The area around Cabin Cove was an inhospitable place, seldom visited because of the high cliffs, its dangerous lonely shoreline, and its remote location from Bayport.

"Goodness! Look at the smoke!" Callie cried out, as the ice-boats rounded the point and Cabin Island came into full view.

The island itself looked dark and austere, even in the sun and with the ice gleaming on all sides. Great clouds of mushrooming dark smoke were rising from a high eminence overlooking the bay where the log cabin had stood. The island was heavily timbered and the first thought to come to the minds of Frank and Joe was that the entire island might burn!

"Head to the southern end by the burning cabin," Joe called out. The other ice-boats could be seen converging there.

Frank nodded, working the tiller to tack starboard. The wind took the sail and scurried them on. Biff followed in their wake.

Then Joe jerked his head to watch a lone ice-boat sailing around the opposite end of the island. Two figures were sitting in it, crouched low and heads to the wind.

"Frank!" he shouted, pointing north. "That ice-boat over there! Those fellows in it may be the culprits who set the fire!"

Frank turned his head to look and his eyes widened. "Why, that's Tad Carson and Ike Nash, those two ne'er-do-wells who caused us so much trouble over Christmas!"

The boys in question were unsavory characters, loud-mouthed and insolent, and they had been a source of annoyance and irritation to the brothers during their recent adventures at Cabin Island. They sailed in a larger craft that was well-made and speedy, and the envy of many of the young fellows in Bayport.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they set the fire," Joe expostulated. "And now they're trying to sneak away. Let's go after them!"

Frank nodded grimly, then looked at Callie and shouted, "Hold on!"

The girl grabbed the gunwale for support as Frank quickly changed course, spinning the ice-boat around on one runner.

"Hey you guys! Where're you going?" Chet demanded from his seat in Biff's craft.

But there was no response from the Hardy boys' boat. Frank, Joe, and Callie were all three intent on catching up with the larger ice-boat now speeding south in a direct course back to Bayport.

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Disclaimer

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.