Free Trouble at the Arcade by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

yard. Before he got there, he looked around carefully.
    There were hedges on both sides of the yard, so none of the neighbors could see him. The soundof hammering was coming from the spare room over the garage. Mr. Hardy had been working up there for weeks during his free time. But Frank couldn’t see his father through the window, so he guessed his father couldn’t see him, either.
    Frank ducked into a narrow path between two bushes. It looked like a trail that nothing but a deer or a rabbit would use. But it actually led straight to the tree house Frank and his younger brother Joe had helped their parents build in the woods. No one except the two of them (and their parents) knew the tree house was there.
    The tree house was halfway up a huge old maple tree. Frank and Joe had painted the bottom of the platform green and brown. That way, even if someone walked right past, they probably wouldn’t notice it.
    At least not most of the time. Right now anyone passing by would definitely see it. That wasbecause Joe had left the ladder hanging down.
    The ladder was made out of rope and planks. It had a pulley system so the boys could keep it rolled up out of sight whether they were in the tree house or not.

    Frank grabbed the ladder and started to climb. Soon he was peering into the tree house. It was one big room inside. The back wall was the trunk of the tree, and the front wall had the door and a window cutout of it. One of the side walls was covered with posters from martial arts and monster movies, and the other had a dry-erase whiteboard where the brothers could leave notes for each other. There was no real furniture, but there were some cushions to make sitting on the floor more comfortable.
    Eight-year-old Joe Hardy was sitting on one of the floor cushions, reading comic books. His dirty-blond hair was sticking up in one place like he hadn’t brushed it when he’d gotten out of bed. “Hi,” he said when Frank climbed in. “What’s up?”
    â€œYou forgot to pull up the ladder,” said Frank. “Are you crazy? We don’t want Adam to find this place.”
    Adam Ackerman lived on the other side of the woods. He was in Frank’s class at school and was known as the meanest bully in Bayport.
    Joe just shrugged. “Well, he didn’t find it, did he?”
    Frank frowned. Joe was always saying stuff like that.
    â€œMom’s looking for you,” he said. “It’s your turn to set the table.”
    â€œOkay.” Joe tossed the comic book he was reading into the messy pile beside him. Then the two boys climbed back down the ladder and used the pulley to lift it back out of sight.
    â€œWhat were you doing out here, anyway?” Frank asked as they pushed their way out of the woods. “You should be practicing for the video game tournament tomorrow. Otherwise you’ll never make it past the first round.”
    That was why Frank had been playing Alien Blob Blaster. The tournament was being held at the grand reopening of the arcade at Bayport Fun World. The grand prize was a brand-new superdeluxe game system.
    â€œWho needs practice when you have naturaltalent?” Joe bragged. “I’m not only planning to make the finals—I’m planning to win!”
    â€œDon’t be so sure,” said Frank. “That VidPoint 3000 game is way better than the one we have. Tons of people will be there trying to win it. That’s why you need to practice. With both of us entering, we’ll have twice the chance of winning.”
    â€œWe?” Joe echoed with a grin. “Who says I’m going to share when I win that game?”
    Frank rolled his eyes. “What choice do you have? We share a room, remember?”
    â€œMaybe not for long.” Joe looked toward the garage. The sound of hammering was still coming from that direction. “Dad’s almost finished fixing up the spare room. And you know what that