Free The Clue of the Broken Blade by Franklin W. Dixon

roof had been added, and there was a huge picture window in front. The house sat on about an acre of ground, surrounded by a split-rail fence. The driveway leading to a garage behind was blocked by an iron gate, and another iron gate barred the way to a walk leading to the front door.
    Joe parked and they all got out. It was nearly eight o’clock, but still light. Drapes on the picture window in the living room were wide open. A woman seated on a couch was reading a magazine.
    Joe tried the gate. It was locked.
    Chet said, “The fence isn’t very high. Let’s climb it.”
    He put one hand on the top rail with the intention of swinging his legs over it. Instead he emitted a gasp and fell to the ground unconscious!

CHAPTER XI
    Faked Out
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    FRANK pulled Chet away from the fence, while Joe stooped to look up under the top rail. A bare copper wire ran beneath it.
    â€œIt’s electrified,” Joe stated. “What a dirty trick!”
    Frank had been holding an ear to the unconscious boy’s chest. “His heart’s still working all right,” he said. “I guess the shock just knocked him out.”
    Rolling Chet over on his stomach, Frank began to give him artificial respiration.
    The front door of the house opened and a middle-aged woman with graying hair came out. She walked to the gate, wringing her hands.
    â€œI didn’t know that was switched on,” she said. “I’m terribly sorry. Is your friend hurt?”
    Without stopping his rhythmic movements, Frank said, “You can see he’s out cold. That fence is dangerous!”
    â€œOh dear!” the woman said. “I told my husband he was going too far with his desire for privacy. Are you going to sue us?”
    â€œDepends on how our friend recovers,” Frank replied.
    Chet opened his eyes and said, “Hey, who’s that sitting on my back?”
    Frank rose to his feet. Chet rolled over and sat up.
    â€œWhat happened?” he asked.
    â€œThe fence was charged with electricity,” Joe told him. “It knocked you out. This lady wants to know if you’re going to sue her.”
    Chet looked at the woman, then lay back down on the grass and put a hand to his forehead. “I think my brain is fried,” he said dolefully. “How much can you sue for when your brain is fried?”
    â€œFor yours, about fifteen cents,” Frank quipped.
    Sitting up again, Chet gave him a reproachful look. He climbed to his feet and regarded the fence darkly.
    â€œIt’s shut off now,” the woman assured him. “Won’t you come in the house while we discuss this?”
    When they agreed, she unlocked the gate and led them inside. While they took seats in the living room, she went into the kitchen and returned with a tray of Cokes and a bowl of cookies.
    â€œHow are you feeling now?” she asked Chet as he reached for a handful of cookies.”
    â€œI think I’ll live,” he said.
    It was apparent by the way he attacked the cookie bowl that he was fully recovered from the effects of the electrical shock. The woman looked relieved.
    â€œThen you won’t sue us?” she asked.
    â€œI’ll make a deal with you,” Chet said. “You leave that fence switched off and I won’t sue you.”
    â€œOh, I will,” she assured him. “I’m going to make my husband disconnect it.”
    The woman introduced herself as Mrs. Myra Steele, and the boys told her their names. Mrs. Steele explained that her husband was the famous movie writer Vincent Steele, and that he went to such great lengths to maintain his privacy because he was constantly being bothered by aspiring actors who wanted to break into the business.
    â€œI can understand that,” Chet said. “I’d like to be in the movies myself.”
    â€œWhat role would you play?” Joe asked. “A mountain?”
    â€œHe could play the body in murder