Free The Bicycle Thief by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

fountain. And he was pretty thirsty. He decided to go for it.
    Halfway to the fountain a familiar dog came bounding over.
    â€œLucy!” he said. “Down!”
    Lucy nearly knocked Frank to the ground, because she was so eager to lick his face. Lucy had once stolen a baseball mitt from one of the Bayport Bandits, but they’d become good friends anyway. Lucy had a long history of crime, but thanks to her owner, Mr. Mack, everything got returned eventually.
    â€œI’m sorry, Frank. Lucy, come here!”
    That was Mr. Mack, Lucy’s owner. He couldn’t keep up with Lucy when she was off her leash, but he was always close behind.
    â€œHi, Mr. Mack,” Frank said, once Lucy had gotten off him.
    â€œHi, Frank,” said Mr. Mack. Then he paused. “Oh no,” he said. “What happened?” He pointed to Frank’s arm.
    â€œI fell off my bike,” Frank explained. “I just finished patching up my cuts.” He proudly showed off his Band-Aid skills.
    â€œYou boys better be careful on those bikes. You go pretty fast,” Mr. Mack warned.
    â€œYes, sir,” Frank said. But Mr. Mack was already moving away, running after Lucy. Frank started walking again.
    â€œHey, Frank! Over here! Frank! Frank! Over here! Come play with us! Fraaank!”
    There was only one person in all of Bayport who could talk quite that fast. Cissy “Speedy” Zermeño was Bayport’s fastest talker—and the fastest pitcher on the Bayport Bandits.
    Speedy and a few of the other Bandits were playing catch right off the path, doing a little pre– Little League spring training. Before Frank could say anything, Speedy threw the ball his way.
    â€œOw!” Frank said as he caught the ball. Hehadn’t thought about his cut, and it hurt to move his arm. He dropped the ball. Twisting his arm to catch the ball had pulled on the Band-Aids, and now some of them were flapping loose. They wouldn’t re-stick, so Frank pulled them off and put them in his pocket.
    â€œOh, man! What happened? I’m sorry. Did I do that? Does it hurt?” Speedy ran over to Frank, her mouth moving as fast as her feet.
    â€œNo. I fell off my bike. I guess catching the ball hurt my arm.”
    Speedy scooped up the ball and tossed it to one of the other Bandits.
    â€œYou should join us when you’re done,” she said. Speedy looked around. “Hey, where’s Joe? And where’s your bike?”
    â€œJoe went to get our patch kit. We have to finish our race first, but we’ll join you when we’re done. And my bike is in the ditch back there.”
    â€œCool. See ya later!” With that, Speedy was off.
    Frank finally made it to the water fountain. He carefully stuck his arm under the cold stream of water. It stung, but not as much as when Joe had cleaned it the first time.
    â€œEw!” came a voice from behind him. “What are you doing? Don’t you have a shower at home?”
    Frank turned around to find Adam Ackerman standing behind him. Adam was the town bully. He and Frank and Joe had gotten in each other’s way before. Adam was just about the last person Frank wanted to see right then.
    â€œI fell off my bike,” Frank explained. He held out his arm to show the cut. “I was just washing—”
    â€œAw, are you going to cry?” Adam teased. “Waah! Waah!” he yelled. He balled his hands into fists and rubbed his eyes.
    â€œBoys!” yelled Mrs. Ackerman, who had comeup behind them. “What is going on here? Why are you making that noise?”

    â€œI was just trying to help Frank, Mom!” said Adam. “He was crying because he cut himself.”
    Adam grabbed Frank’s arm and pulled it toward his mother.
    â€œOw!” said Frank. Before he had a chance to correct Adam, Mrs. Ackerman had pulled Frank to her.
    â€œMy! That is a nasty cut. What happened?”
    For what felt like the fiftieth time, Frank