about Randy Stevens and Trent Furman not having been listed in a single rodeo.
âSo Furman is a fraud, and maybe Randy, too,â Joe said.
âDonât forget Reuben,â Chet added.
âThe thing is, Chet,â Joe said, âI almost believe Reuben.â
âWhy?â Chet asked. âWho else would have snorkeling equipment and a metal detector in Reubenâs shack?â
The answer suddenly hit Joe. âZack Platt! Of course! He asked about snorkeling equipment the day we got here. He could have easily stolen Tallwalkerâs flashlight while my back was turned. He used the poacherâs shack to store his equipment because someoneâlike Randyâtold him it was abandoned.â
Frank picked up the story. âAnd instead of hunting Big Bertha in Gator Swamp last night, he was searching for the coins with the metal detector.â
âRight,â Joe concurred.
âItâs a solid theory, Joe,â Frank said. âNow we need to prove it.â
âThe next contestant is . . . â Deeterâs voice echoed through the public-address system. âDusty Cole riding Texas Twister!â
âCome on, Dusty!â Chet shouted.
The boys could see Dusty lowering himself onto the bullâs back. He wound the guide rope tightly around his gloved hand, then nodded to one of the rodeo clowns that he was ready. The rodeo clown swung the gate wide open.
Texas Twister was as good as his name. The bull jerked and twisted like a whirling tornado, kicking up dirt in every direction. Dusty couldnât havebeen happier. Giving his trademark whoop and holler, he hung on through the qualifying bell and got a massive round of applause from the crowd.
âWay to go, Dusty!â Frank shouted. Dusty tipped his hat to the three boys and smiled.
âGood ride, Dusty!â Deeter added over the public-address system. âOur next contestant is Randy Stevens, riding Storm Cloud.â
Three pairs of eyes snapped over to the pen where Randy was lowering himself onto the bullâs back. He held up his hand, letting the rodeo clown know he wasnât ready.
âHe looks awfully scared,â Chet pointed out.
âYeah,â Frank agreed. âBut is he scared about the bull or about something else?â
Randy took a deep breath, then grabbed the guide rope and was about to loop it around his gloved hand when Barney Quick suddenly swung the gate wide open.
Storm Cloud blasted out into the ring, bucking wildly and yanking the guide rope out of Randyâs hand. There were screams and shouts from the crowd. Randy was helpless, having nothing to hold on to except for the bullâs hide.
Suddenly Storm Cloud spun completely around in midair, hurling Randy off his back and into the fence. The crowd gasped in horror.
âMr. Quick isnât doing anything to help Randy!â Chet shouted, pointing toward the gate.
Frank spotted the rodeo clown running out of the ring and toward the bunkhouse, shielding his face with his ten-gallon hat. âThis may have been a setup!â Frank shouted.
âOr a frame-up. Come on, guys!â Joe yelled. The Hardys ran down the steps of the grandstands and vaulted over the railing into the ring. Chet followed close behind.
Joe saw Randy trying to get to his feet. Stunned, he fell back to one knee. Storm Cloud had turned and was bearing down on the dazed teenager. Joe gave a loud whistle and waved his hands frantically, trying to get the bullâs attention.
Storm Cloud turned toward the noise. Frank and Chet rushed to Randy, helping him over to the fence, where two cowhands pulled him to safety.
âUh-oh,â Joe muttered as Storm Cloud lowered his head and charged. Joe ran full steam toward the closest railing. He heard the bull snorting behind him and felt its hot breath on his back.
Joe knew he was about to be sandwiched between the fence and the bullâs deadly horns.
At the last second,