Free The Bombay Boomerang by Franklin W. Dixon

could not stop himself and knew he would never clear the distance. Below him lay a solid six-story drop and the hard pavement of the alley!

CHAPTER X
    The Disk Jockey’s Dog
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    DESPERATELY Joe threw his arms forward! His fingertips clutched at the edge of the roof, and he hung there, straining every muscle. He knew he could not last for more than a few seconds. Already his grip was beginning to weaken. He slid back toward destruction!
    â€œHold on, Joe,” Frank yelled.
    Rushing to where Joe dangled helplessly, Mr. Hardy and Frank grabbed him by the wrists. Hauling frantically, they got him safely up on the roof.
    â€œThanks,” Joe panted. “I hope that’s my last cliff-hanger!”
    â€œWe’d better get out of here before we have company,” Frank warned, pointing toward the opposite building, where by now the barricaded door started to give.
    They hastened to a skylight door leading downstairs. Luckily it was unlocked. With Mr. Hardy in the lead, they lost no time in getting to the elevator.
    â€œI hope it doesn’t stop on the way,” Joe said nervously.
    â€œIf we’re delayed, we might have to hide out in the building,” his father remarked. But the elevator went straight down and they hurried to the front door.
    â€œKeep your cool,” Mr. Hardy warned under his breath. “We don’t want to arouse suspicion.”
    Frank peered outside. “The coast is clear,” he reported. “And—wow! We’ve got help! Jack Wayne is just getting out of a red Ford over there!”
    â€œWhat timing!” his father exclaimed. “Let’s make for Jack’s car!”
    Walking briskly across the street, the fugitives reached the Ford, jumped in, and crouched down on the floor. Frank peeked through the rear window.
    â€œI don’t see the hounds yet. The elevator next door must have stopped on every floor,” he said.
    â€œWhat about Jack?” his father queried.
    â€œHe went into the hotel. Probably got worried about us.”
    Joe rose slightly to get a view of the hotel entrance. “Oh, here they come!” he warned. “Duck low!”
    Four men barreled out of the door. Two ran in opposite directions. The other two plunged into the alley and continued right around the building.
    They met again, shrugging in obvious disappointment, and began to argue furiously. Finally they dashed into the building where the Hardys had just been.
    Jack Wayne emerged from the hotel accompa nied by the desk clerk. They, too, were in the midst of a heated dispute, the pilot insisting that the Hardys must be there, the clerk just as certain they were not.
    â€œIf Frank and Joe cleared out, they’d certainly have let me know,” Wayne stated vehemently. Getting nowhere, he broke off the discussion, returned to the car and jumped in.
    Frank tapped him lightly on the shoulder. Startled, Jack wheeled around.
    â€œEasy, Jack,” Fenton Hardy whispered. “All three of us are here. Act as if nothing has happened and make tracks for the airport, quick!”
    Catching on, the pilot whipped the car out of the parking spot and maneuvered it skillfully through the traffic.
    The Hardys relaxed. “That was simply beautiful, Jack,” Frank said. “Where’d you get the car?”
    â€œBorrowed it from a fellow I know at the airport,” Jack replied. “Since you didn’t call, I thought I’d better check up on you. What happened?”
    â€œNothing, really,” Joe said. “We just had to make a rather unorthodox exit. Our friends at the hotel didn’t want to let us go!”
    Soon the airport came into view. Mr. Hardy’s plane stood on a side runway. He went straight to it.
    â€œWe’ll wait inside,” he said. “Gives us more privacy than the lobby. Jack, do me a favor. Call Captain Stein at police headquarters and have him come out here if