Free The Ice-cold Case by Franklin W. Dixon Page B

Frank. How’s your investigation going?” Con replied.
    â€œGood. Listen, I have a question for you. Have you ever seen Ernie’s grandsons hitchhiking into town at night or hanging out in any of the local joints?” Frank asked.
    Riley thought for a moment. “No, can’t say I have. And you know I stop in pretty much everywhere during my shift. Do you think they’re in on something?”
    â€œIt would be nice to have some proof before we say anything,” Frank said. “And, Con, do me a favor. I think someone’s been following us. As we pull away, see if you notice anyone behind me.”
    Frank backed the van onto the road. There was no sign of a vehicle behind him.
    â€œDo you think they took off when they saw Con’s car?” Joe asked.
    â€œYour guess is as good as mine,” Frank said.
    A half mile farther up the road, they came to an intersection where the road they were on came to an end. They would have to turn right or left.
    â€œI can’t see a thing,” Frank said. With the trees and mounds of plowed snow, it was difficult to see much in either direction.
    â€œNo headlights, either,” Joe said. He peered into the darkness but saw nothing coming. “I guess the coast is clear.”
    Preparing to turn right, Frank slowly pulled into the intersection, when suddenly they heard the distinct whir of tires on the snow. “Frank!” Joe screamed as a pickup truck came racing straight at them with its lights off.

10 Thin Ice!
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    Frank slammed on the gas, and the van shot across the road as the truck roared by just behind them. The van bounced over the curb and into a ditch on the far side of the road, coming to a stop at a steep angle. The front bumper pressed into the ditch, and the back wheels were spinning a foot in the air. Frank and Joe lurched forward but were held back by their seat belts.
    â€œAre you all right?” Frank asked as he tried to sit up.
    â€œI’m okay,” Joe responded. “Did you get a look at it?”
    â€œA pickup, dark blue, maybe green. I’m not sure,” Frank said.
    It took some effort to get out of the van because when they released their seat belts, they fell forward onto the dashboard.
    â€œSorry about driving into a ditch,” Frank said as they climbed out of the van.
    â€œBetter than getting broadsided,” Joe said.
    Frank inspected the front of the van, which was pressed into the snow. “It doesn’t look too bad,” he said.
    â€œWe’re not getting it back on the road without help,” Joe said.
    â€œI’ll go call Hank,” Frank said.
    Joe looked down the dark streets. There were no cars to be seen.
    â€œThey’re not following us now,” Joe said.
    â€œI’m pretty sure they were the ones who just ran us off the road,” Frank said.
    Frank walked back toward town and went to the pay phone by the all-night deli to call Hank. Then he went inside and bought two cups of hot chocolate so he and Joe could warm up.
    When Hank arrived, he walked around the van and whistled loudly. “You guys sure are magnets for trouble,” he said as he attached a cable to the rear of the van.
    â€œThanks for getting here so fast,” Joe said.
    â€œYou’ve got to catch these guys before anyone else gets hurt,” Hank said. He walked back to his truck to start hauling the van up. It didn’t take him long to get the van back on the road. Frank and Joe were relieved to see there was no serious damage, just some scratches to the paint.
    â€œMaybe you guys ought to take the rest of the night off,” Hank said. “I’d say you deserve it.”
    â€œSounds good to me,” Frank agreed.
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    When they got home, their father, Fenton Hardy, was in his study. Frank and Joe filled him in on their investigation.
    â€œSo you suspect Tuttle and his grandsons?” Fenton