Free Danger in the Extreme by Franklin W. Dixon Page B
Authors: Franklin W. Dixon
infront of room 506. He knocked on the door. âRoom service.â
He figured heâd act as if it was a big joke if Salazar came to the door.
No one answered.
Setting down the tray, Frank pulled lock picks out of his wallet and went to work. The door opened easily. He was in.
He flipped on the lights. The room was neatâthe bed was made, and no open bags were in sight.
Coiled on the cushion of an overstuffed chair was a length of climbing rope. Frank ran it through his hands. It was the exact same kind as the one that was in the safety harness at the ice wall. Frank touched a frayed end with his thumb. It looked as if it had been cut, and he thought that it might be the rope from the ice wall. Again, there was no way to be sure.
He went to the desk. Now what are these? he asked himself, picking up a stack of maps. There was a road map of the state of New York. Frank unfolded it. He didnât see anything unusual about it.
The other maps were more interesting, though. There were no roads on them. They looked like pools of blue water, with waves running out from the center.
âTopographical maps,â Frank whispered aloud, âused for surveying and hiking.â The maps were allof the Catskill Mountains and showed the elevation and details of the terrain.
What would Salazar need these for? Frank wondered.
He went over to the closet and opened it. Here was something interesting!
He reached in and pulled out a heavy target air rifle. The kind they use in the maximum biathlon, Frank noted. The only problem was that Salazar wasnât entered in the biathlon.
He turned the gun over in his hands. It was obviously almost new. The wooden stock was carefully oiled, and the blued barrel was polished to a bright shine.
Putting the rifle back, he checked the closet shelf. He pulled down a wooden case about the size of a cigar box.
Opening it, he saw two neat rows of tiny feathered darts. They looked as though they would fit the gun.
Frank was putting the case back when he heard voices approaching from out in the hall.
He froze. âGo away, go on past,â he whispered to himself.
The voices grew louder. Then Frank heard the sound of a key sliding into a lock.
They were coming in.
10 Break-in
----
At the stadium Joe stood on the running track with Jim Edwards and the third-place finisher in the snocross, Omar Korrel.
Fred Vale frantically adjusted the camera angles. He kept moving the three athletes closer together, as if that might prompt an outburst from Joe or Jim.
For his part, Joe stayed quiet. He watched Jim closely though, looking for any clue or sign that heâd been one of the guys whoâd attacked the Hardys earlier that evening.
Joe was scanning the crowd for his parents when Jim tapped him on the shoulder.
âLook, Joe,â Edwards said quietly. âIâm sorry about being a sore loser earlier. You had a great race.â
This caught Joe by surprise. He hadnât expected Edwards to be nice.
âI guess Iâve been pretty angry lately about losing my sponsor,â Jim continued. âI took it out on you.â He held out his hand to shake.
Joe took it.
âIâve gotten a rap as a dangerous driver,â Edwards admitted. âThatâs what cost me my sponsorship.â
âYou donât think youâre dangerous?â
Jim looked away. âI thought I was just doing whatever it took to win. Then I crossed the line and started playing dirty. Iâm going to change that, though.â
âYouâll win again soon,â Joe replied.
When Vale saw them, his jaw dropped. âWhat? You two are best buddies now?â
Joe and Jim smiled at the camera. Vale seemed disappointed, but the ceremony went off without a hitch.
Joe lifted the heavy gold medal off his chest and held it out for the crowd to see. The cheers were deafening, and the exploding flashes left colored spots in front of Joeâs
He figured heâd act as if it was a big joke if Salazar came to the door.
No one answered.
Setting down the tray, Frank pulled lock picks out of his wallet and went to work. The door opened easily. He was in.
He flipped on the lights. The room was neatâthe bed was made, and no open bags were in sight.
Coiled on the cushion of an overstuffed chair was a length of climbing rope. Frank ran it through his hands. It was the exact same kind as the one that was in the safety harness at the ice wall. Frank touched a frayed end with his thumb. It looked as if it had been cut, and he thought that it might be the rope from the ice wall. Again, there was no way to be sure.
He went to the desk. Now what are these? he asked himself, picking up a stack of maps. There was a road map of the state of New York. Frank unfolded it. He didnât see anything unusual about it.
The other maps were more interesting, though. There were no roads on them. They looked like pools of blue water, with waves running out from the center.
âTopographical maps,â Frank whispered aloud, âused for surveying and hiking.â The maps were allof the Catskill Mountains and showed the elevation and details of the terrain.
What would Salazar need these for? Frank wondered.
He went over to the closet and opened it. Here was something interesting!
He reached in and pulled out a heavy target air rifle. The kind they use in the maximum biathlon, Frank noted. The only problem was that Salazar wasnât entered in the biathlon.
He turned the gun over in his hands. It was obviously almost new. The wooden stock was carefully oiled, and the blued barrel was polished to a bright shine.
Putting the rifle back, he checked the closet shelf. He pulled down a wooden case about the size of a cigar box.
Opening it, he saw two neat rows of tiny feathered darts. They looked as though they would fit the gun.
Frank was putting the case back when he heard voices approaching from out in the hall.
He froze. âGo away, go on past,â he whispered to himself.
The voices grew louder. Then Frank heard the sound of a key sliding into a lock.
They were coming in.
10 Break-in
----
At the stadium Joe stood on the running track with Jim Edwards and the third-place finisher in the snocross, Omar Korrel.
Fred Vale frantically adjusted the camera angles. He kept moving the three athletes closer together, as if that might prompt an outburst from Joe or Jim.
For his part, Joe stayed quiet. He watched Jim closely though, looking for any clue or sign that heâd been one of the guys whoâd attacked the Hardys earlier that evening.
Joe was scanning the crowd for his parents when Jim tapped him on the shoulder.
âLook, Joe,â Edwards said quietly. âIâm sorry about being a sore loser earlier. You had a great race.â
This caught Joe by surprise. He hadnât expected Edwards to be nice.
âI guess Iâve been pretty angry lately about losing my sponsor,â Jim continued. âI took it out on you.â He held out his hand to shake.
Joe took it.
âIâve gotten a rap as a dangerous driver,â Edwards admitted. âThatâs what cost me my sponsorship.â
âYou donât think youâre dangerous?â
Jim looked away. âI thought I was just doing whatever it took to win. Then I crossed the line and started playing dirty. Iâm going to change that, though.â
âYouâll win again soon,â Joe replied.
When Vale saw them, his jaw dropped. âWhat? You two are best buddies now?â
Joe and Jim smiled at the camera. Vale seemed disappointed, but the ceremony went off without a hitch.
Joe lifted the heavy gold medal off his chest and held it out for the crowd to see. The cheers were deafening, and the exploding flashes left colored spots in front of Joeâs