The boys all leaped for cover as the jeep came thundering down the path. The sound of metal crashing and wood splintering could be heard from miles around. The runaway jeep had crashed into a large old oak tree that was standing only a few yards from where the boys had dove for cover.

"Is everybody all right?" asked Frank, as he slowly raised himself and began to dust his clothes off.

"I'm all right," replied Biff Hooper.

"Me too," said Jerry Gilroy. "What about you, Chet?" He glanced over in the direction of their chubby friend.

Chet slowly raised himself up to a seated position and blinked his eyes. "Am I still alive?"

Jerry grinned and reached into his pocket for the candy bar that he had placed in there earlier. He mischievously waved it under his plump friend’s nose. In the blink of an eye, Chet had bitten off half the bar and part of the wrapper.

"He’s fine!" Jerry laughed after he had counted his fingers to make sure that they were all there.

"Yeah, I'm all right," Chet replied as he munched on the remainder of the candy bar. "But who tried to give us the ground view of that vehicle?"

"Let's find out!" Frank jutted out his jaw as he turned on his heel and lead the way towards the recently wrecked army jeep.

"Hey fellow!" Biff called out in the direction of the upturned vehicle. "What’s the big idea? Were you trying to run us down? I’ve got a good mind to…" Biff stopped in mid-sentence, because what he saw next took him by extreme surprise.

"Leaping lizards!" exclaimed Jerry Gilroy.

"There wasn’t anybody behind the wheel!" Chet moon face suddenly began to turn pale as he said, "I'm getting out of here!" He then tried to run off in the opposite direction of the jeep, but Biff and Jerry grabbed him by his shoulders and held him back.

"Let me go!" He shouted in vain as he desperately tried to fight back against his antagonists. "There's something spooky going on here. I don’t know what it is and I sure don’t want to stick around to find out!"

"Chet, there has got to be a logical explanation for this!" replied Frank, as he started examining the interior of the jeep.

Immediately, his well-trained eyes spotted a cinder block resting on top of the gas pedal. "This explains it!" He shouted to the others. "Somebody did this on purpose!"

"But who?" Jerry Gilroy’s jaw went slack at the mere sight of the concrete block.

"Black Jack Pepper!" Chet blurted out those three words as if he couldn’t hold them in any longer. "Who else?" He then turned and tried to run off in the direction of camp again.

"It couldn't have been him," protested Biff. "That trail from the cabin was heading in the opposite direction of here. He’s probably miles away by now."

"However, it could have been one of his henchmen," remarked Frank, nonchalantly. "He could have instructed one of them to stay behind and make sure that we didn't follow them."

Just then the oldest Hardy boy spotted something in the old jeep that made his eyes bulge with fear. Lying in the floorboard, wedged underneath the block of cement, was his brother’s watch. There was no mistake that it was Joe’s, because the previous Christmas, Frank had given him a brand new leather band for it.

"Joe was in this jeep," He suddenly shouted at the top of lungs. "He must be in trouble!"

Without a moment’s hesitation, the boys rushed back towards the camp and gathered up their flashlights to begin a search for the missing boy.

"Where do we start?" asked Chet.

"Let's back track," replied Frank, "The jeep came from this direction!" He shined his light beam onto the deep ruts that had been dug into the soft ground by the old army vehicle.

"I think we should split up," suggested Biff Hooper. "That way we can cover more ground."

"Good idea!" agreed Frank. "You and Jerry take the woods on the left side of the trail, while Chet and I take the right."

"Joe!" The oldest Hardy boy shouted, as he trained his light onto every dark shadow he could see. "Joseph Hardy, where are you?"

Where indeed was Joe Hardy, and how had his watch gotten inside that old jeep? After leaving Frank at the camp earlier that day, the youngest Hardy boy, along with his mother and Aunt, had managed to reach town without any problems. After finally persuading the two ladies to remain at the nearby hotel, Joe tried to put in a call to the state police. However, the recent storm had blown numerous telephone poles down, and the only road leading out of town had been washed away.

"You could try the ranger station," suggested the old man that ran the general store.

"Where is it?" asked Joe, hurriedly.

"It's about five miles north-west of here," replied the storeowner. "But you can only get up there by way of horse back."

Joe wasted no time heading to the livery stable for a fresh horse. He then made a quick trip back to the general store before starting for the ranger station. As Joe was approaching the half way mark, his horse suddenly came to an abrupt halt and wouldn’t move. There was a small stream of water cutting right through the middle of his path and Joe’s horse refused to cross it.

"What's wrong now?" Joe breathed hard as he dismounted from his stead and started examining the water. There didn’t appear to be anything wrong with it, so he tried again once again. Unfortunately, this attempt was in vain as well. Nothing he did would make the horse cross the stream. He even got back off and tried to lead the animal across. Finally, Joe remounted his horse and rode back a short distance in the direction that he had come from. Turning back towards the stream, he started the horse at a full gallop and this time it trudged straight through without even hesitating. Once he was through the water, Joe slowed his horse down to a walk and then finally to a full stop. Immediately, the animal began shaking itself dry in much the same manner that a dog would. Apparently, the only reason why it didn't want to cross the water was because it just didn't want to get wet! As soon as the horse had finished drying itself, Joe was able to continue on his journey.

Just over two more miles down trail, he spotted an old log cabin situated on top of a high cliff. Immediately, he realized that this must be the ranger’s station. Joe followed the long winding trail directly to the cabin’s front porch.

"Hello!" he called out, as he jiggled the old doorknob. "Is there anyone here?" After receiving no response, he pushed open the unlocked door and walked in. It was a plain wooden structure with slatted walls and a slatted floor. Directly across from where Joe stood was a large pane glass window that overlooked the vast wilderness that made up Advantage Falls. To his left he spotted the ranger’s desk. Above it, tacked on an old bulletin board, was a small sign that read, "Checking for traps. Back in TWO WEEKS!"

"That’s great!" exclaimed Joe Hardy, as he glanced around the small room. He was just about to pound his fist on the desk when he spotted a short-wave radio set sitting on a small table near the front door. For a moment, this gave him newfound hope. Unfortunately, one quick examination told him that the old machine was useless. Someone had apparently smashed the set to the point that it never be used again.

"That’s just perfect!" He muttered sarcastically to himself. "What else could happen?" he asked rhetorically, as he walked over towards the large window and gazed out. He stood there for a long time just looking out that dusty window, hoping that he might spot his brother or one of their friends. "I guess I’d better start back," he remarked after a few minutes of intense staring.

Just as he started towards the front door, he heard a faint noise coming from behind the closet door behind the ranger’s desk.

"What could that be?" he thought to himself. "Hello!" he called out, but there was no response.

He cautiously made his way towards the source of the noise, and just as he reached for the knob, the door was suddenly thrown wide-open, knocking him to the floor. A large, burly man rushed out of closet, ran across the room and dashed out the door!

After Joe Hardy had regained himself, he raced out the front door in pursuit of the strange man. "Hey you!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "Stop!" Instead of heeding Joe’s words, the brute jumped into an old army jeep that was hidden behind a large bush.

"He’s getting away!" Joe gasped in horror.

"That’s right!" scowled the fiend. "I’m going to get clean away and there’s nothing you can do about it!" The large man was quite confident that he would escape, but this wasn’t to be the case. As the villain hastily turned the key in the ignition, he pumped the gas pedal one too many times and unintentionally flooded the jeep’s carburetor.

As soon as the man realized that his escape vehicle wasn’t going to start, he climbed out of it and started running off into the woods, with Joe Hardy not far behind him. The ugly brute of a man didn’t get very far before he was thrown to the ground in a flying tackle. There was a brief struggle in which Joe’s watch was torn from his wrist, but the fight didn’t last long. The stranger was too strong for the young boy to handle and he merely tossed him to the side.

The man ran past the jeep and leaped up on the horse that had been reined in front of the ranger’s cabin. In a flash, he galloped past the Hardy boy and was soon lost to sight. Realizing that this was the last he would probably see of the strange man or his horse, Joe turned his attention towards the jeep. "Since he took my transportation, I may as well take his," he muttered to himself. After placing his watch on the seat next to him, he tried to start the motor, but it was no use. "The carburetor must still be flooded," he ventured. "I guess I’ll be here for a little while."

While waiting for opportunity to use the jeep, went back in the ranger’s station. Picking up a pair of high power binoculars that was lying on the old maple desk, he proceeded to gaze out of the large window. After a few minutes, he trained his binoculars upon a small cabin that was almost totally hidden from view in the middle of the wilderness. He could barely make out the blurred images of a small group of people that was just walking inside, and even though this image was blurred, Joe immediately recognized the identity of two of them. The plump form of Chet Morton was easily recognized anywhere. Behind him, Joe spotted the notorious Black Jack Pepper, who was pushing and prodding the others into the old cabin.

"Great Scott!" he exclaimed. "I’ve got to help them!" He turned towards the short wave radio on the ranger’s desk. "If only that fiend hadn’t destroyed the radio!"

As soon as his friends had disappeared into the cabin, Joe stormed out the door. After a few seconds, he had the old jeep started and was once again on his way. "It won’t even take half as long to make the trip back to camp in this," he thought to himself. "I only wish that I had time to look for that man. I’d make him pay for the damage that he caused to my watch!"

In hardly any time at all, Joe Hardy was back in town. After filling up the jeep’s gas tank with petrol, Joe dashed into the hotel dining room for a quick bite. "I’ll have a bacon cheese burger, fries and a chocolate malted," he told the young waitress.

While Joe was waiting for his food to be brought to him, an old man who was seated by the door stood up and walked out. The famished sleuth didn’t even notice the man’s actions, because he was too tired and too worried over his friends. About twenty minutes later, when his food finally arrived, Joe grabbed up the plate and inhaled the contents so fast that it made the waitress’s head spin. "My goodness," remarked the waitress. "You must have been hungry!"

Joe laughed as he replied, "No, it’s just that the food was so good, I could hardly wait for the next bite!" After paying for his meal and leaving a generous tip, he turned and started towards the door. That’s when the old man from earlier ambled back in. Behind him there stood a large boy about Joe’s age, but twice as big. Together, they blocked the entranceway.

"Wait a minute!" the old man called to Joe. "Where are you going?"

Joe glanced around the room for a moment before responding. There wasn’t anyone else in the place except the waitress and the cook, who happened to be the waitress’s mother. "Uh… Well… I’ve got an appointment."

"Do you think I’m stupid?" the old man blurted out.

For obvious reasons Joe did not answer this question.

"I recognize you!" the old man continued. "You’ve been in the papers, haven’t you?"

The young sleuth did not know what to say. It was true that he had been in the papers many times - him, his brother, and his father - but why would this man care about that? Unless, of course, he was working for Black Jack Pepper!

"I’ve really got to go," Joe remarked nonchalantly as he tried to squeeze between the old man and the open doorway. He didn’t get very far though, because the old man’s son grabbed him about the shoulders and held him back.

"I believe my Pa is talking to you," he grinned. "You wouldn’t want to be un-neighborly would you?"

"Me? Are you kidding?" Joe chuckled. "I’m a firm believer in the good neighbor policy!"

"Well…" replied the hayseed. "We’re not interested in any insurance polices, not even one for our neighbors. You just listen to what Pa has got to say."

"As I was saying before I was interrupted," the old man spoke up. "You’re that Hardy kid!"

Joe gulped as replied, "I believe that name does sound familiar."

"That’s right," The man continued. "You’re Leon Hardy, the boy talent scout from Hollywood!"

Joe couldn’t help but laugh because he had definitely heard of this other Hardy before. In fact, his own picture and this other boy’s picture had appeared in the paper at the same time. There had been a mix up and Joe’s picture was placed under his name, and vice versa.

"That’s right," he laughed. "You’ve recognized me. Well, I’d love to stay and chat but I’ve really got to go!"

"Now hold on there!" the old man called out. "I’m not finished!"

"That’s right, Pa’s not finished!" the overgrown boy spoke up.

"Thank you son!" The old man smiled as he leaned over and picked up a large object that he had placed by the door when he came in. "I came here to audition for you!" Then he started strumming on the banjo that he was holding in his hands.

"That’s really very nice," Joe spoke up. "But I’ve got to go and I don’t have time for this."

"Pa wants to sing!" the man’s son stated as he clamped his large hand down on Joe’s shoulder, shoved him into a chair and held him there.

"I’m sorry," Joe chuckled. "Go right ahead. I just love banjo music!"

"Thank you!" The old man grinned. "You know, I could tell right from the start that you were a music lover." Then without further ado, he started his one-man concert. About two hours later, after Joe had promised to star the old man and his son in his next movie, the young sleuth was once again on his way.

"I can’t believe they held me up this long," he grumbled as he climbed into the jeep. "It’s going to be after dark before I can even make it back to the campsite." He then cranked the engine and started the long drive back.

Later on that night, as Joe was coming close to his destination, he happened to glance up into the sky, just as the bright flare that Frank had shot was going off. "He’s not that far from here!" Joe remarked joyously as he brought the jeep to a stop. "Let me see if I can figure out where he is."

Joe climbed out and began looking over the map that he had purchased earlier, trying to pinpoint Frank’s exact location. "I believe he’s still at the camp site," he thought to himself. "He must not have had any success in his search, but I’m glad he’s not very far away. The two of us together will have better success in rescuing the others."

Just as Joe turned back to the jeep, he spotted a dark figure climbing inside. Before Joe could do anything, his only mode of transportation was gone. "Not again!" he groaned, as he started off on foot.

"I hope he’s not going in the direction of camp," Joe gasped as he glanced at the map again. "Great Scott! He is! I’d better hurry!"

Twenty minutes later, as Joe Hardy puffed his way along the darkened path, he was suddenly overtaken by the sound of metal crunching and wood splintering as it echoed in the night air.