Free The Deadliest Dare by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

an accusing finger right at him. "Don't we, Joe Hardy?"
    All the members of the Circle whirled toward Joe as he yanked off his hood. "You clowns may as well quit playing this game right now," he told them, deciding to bluff. "The police know all about you. They're—" "Get him," Kevin ordered. The two nearest figures grabbed for Joe's arms as he started to dart away. He wasn't used to the robe — it slowed him down for a crucial second. Then he was mobbed.
    Joe struggled desperately, blocking punches, returning a few. But there were five guys beating on him—even Biff had joined in.
    "Biff," shouted Joe. "You don't have to do what these bozos tell you anymore. They kidnapped Jeanne. But I got her out!" The big figure he'd assumed was Biff didn't stop punching, but he did start laughing. Joe managed to get one arm free and grabbed for Biff. His hand caught in the big guy's hood, tearing it away as someone yanked him off balance.
    The hood came off—but Biff's face wasn't under it. With a sinking sensation, Joe recognized the face grinning at him. It was the guard Joe had slugged back at the warehouse.
    "I don't think I'm going to like this," Joe muttered.
    With the others holding his arms, Joe watched the guard wind up for a knockout punch.
    "You got it, punk."
    The last thing Joe saw was an enormous fist, blotting everything out as it came toward his face.
     
    ***
     
    Frank screeched to a halt on the drive of the Gramatkee estate, jumped out, and slammed the door of the van. He ran along the flagstone path leading to the Gramatkee mansion, then flew up the steps two at a time.
    He saw lights shining in most of the first-floor windows of the large modern glass-and-redwood home. Maybe his quest would end quickly. Frank jabbed the doorbell.
    Chimes rang inside the big house, but nothing else happened.
    Frank knocked on the door with his fist.
    A minute more passed. Then the door opened a couple of inches. "Yes? What do — Hey, Frank Hardy!"
    He didn't recognize the slender red-haired girl who smiled out at him. She was pretty, about his age, and obviously knew him. Maybe that would help him. "Is Mr. Gramatkee at home?" Frank asked. "You don't recognize me, do you?" "Not actually, no. Look, it's important that I — "
    "Sandy Fuller. I met you last Christmas at that dance over in Kirkland."
    "Sandy, I have to see Mr. Gramatkee." "He isn't here. You were with Callie Shaw, and I had a date with this real nerd named — " "Where is he?"
    "That nerd? I haven't seen him since that party." "No—where's Gramatkee?" "I'm baby-sitting the two children. Mrs. Gramatkee is in Paris."
    "Sandy, this is life and death — where's Gramatkee?"
    "Down on his yacht. He goes there by himself once a week to be alone." The red-haired girl shrugged her shoulders. "The name of the boat is the Golden Fleece, and it's moored in Bayport Harbor. Are you serious about this life-and-death stuff?" "I'll tell you later, Sandy. Thanks for your help." Frank ran down the steps, hopped back into the van, and drove off.
    He had a stiff drive ahead of him — the yacht harbor was over ten miles from there.
    Frank didn't need to be a detective to tell that something was wrong at the yacht club.
    The gate in the cyclone fence that cut off the yacht harbor from the rest of the waterfront hung open. In the guard shack just inside the gate a lean, weather-beaten man lay on the floor, tied, gagged, and out cold.
    Frank picked up the lamp that had been knocked off the desk and knelt beside the guard. At least the man was breathing regularly.
    "I'll have to cut you loose on the way back," he promised the unconscious man. "Right now I have to see about stopping a murder."
    He ran along the planks of the dock. Various-size boats were moored along it, bobbing gently. None looked like a millionaire's yacht, but out in the dark waters of the harbor he saw three large boats anchored.
    The roar of a motor launch coming to life brought Frank to the end of the dock, just in