Free Kickoff to Danger by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

Frank Hardy was looking for information. Someone might decide to pass something along anonymously.
    Sure enough, there was a message with an unfamiliar return address. Frank moved the arrow across his screen and clicked on the message.
    The message was short, and not very sweet:“Keep asking questions about what happened to Biff Hooper, and you’ll be digging your own grave.”
    How nice, Frank thought. A threat. Let’s see if we can backtrack and find out who sent it.
    He tried to close down the message, but the computer didn’t respond. Instead, patches began to appear on the screen. It was as if somebody inside the computer monitor were throwing dirt at the screen.
    Oh, great. Frank had heard about this. It was the Gravedigger virus.
    Must be a new version. It’s obviously gotten past my antivirus defenses. He hesitated for a moment, then turned the computer off.
    Better to crash the system than have it completely wipe out, he thought.
    He looked at his watch again. Getting the computer back up again would be no problem. He’d made a recovery disk. But he’d have to go on to his dad’s machine and download the latest software cure for the Gravedigger virus. That would take too long right now.
    I don’t want a dead computer
and
an annoyed girlfriend, he thought. He got up and headed downstairs for the van.
    Callie was waiting for him outside the library. “How’s it going?” she asked.
    â€œI’ve had better days,” Frank admitted. “Tried totalk to a couple of the guys on your list, and they all ran away.”
    Callie grinned. “Could it be your breath?”
    â€œYou should see—or smell—the other guys,” Frank said. “Some of them forget to brush their teeth.” He went on to tell about the telephone hang-ups, then described the message on his computer.
    â€œAt least you managed to stir up something,” Callie said.
    â€œYeah,” Frank replied dryly. “Trouble. Opening that message let the Gravedigger virus into my computer.”
    â€œOh, no!” Callie said. “Did it mess up everything on your hard drive?” She paused for a second. “Did it get to the stuff for your computer course?”
    Frank winced. He hadn’t thought of that. “Well, it will certainly give me something to talk about tomorrow. I just shut the computer down and came to get you.” He gave her a smile. “We’ll worry about the machinery later.”
    Pulling into the Bayport High lot to get Joe, Frank steered straight for the faculty parking area. “The lot’s just about empty,” he said. “And it’s close to the gym entrance. I think I’ll chance parking here.”
    Callie decided to stay in the van. “Sweat and liniment isn’t my favorite perfume,” she said.
    Frank started to get out. Overhead, he noticedthat the sign for the Seneca game was being taken down.
    â€œSic
transit gloria mundi
,” he murmured.
    â€œWhat?” Callie said.
    â€œIt’s Latin—about the glories of the world passing away.” He pointed at the sign. “The Seneca game was the biggest thing in town a week ago. Now it’s history.”
    He went inside and walked along the side of the gym to reach the locker room. Frank started to push in the door…and paused.
    It was quiet in there.
Too
quiet, as the old-time cowboy heroes would say. Usually, the guys would be cracking jokes or talking about practice.
    Frank heard nothing at first. Then all at once he heard a grunt, followed by a metallic crash.
    He pushed the door open quickly and stepped inside. The guys on the football team, most of them half-dressed, stood staring at Joe Hardy’s locker.
    Joe had one of Wendell Logan’s arms twisted in a painful hold. The rest of the big linebacker seemed to be jammed into Joe’s locker.
    â€œWhat’s going on out there?” Coach Devlin’s voice came from his