Free Disaster for Hire by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

Crosscut," said Jenny.
    Frank's lips thinned. "Which is one reason they made their deal with Dr. Winter."
    "Frank, how could people be so greedy that they'd risk a whole forest for a few dollars? Even if he told them it was safe, they — " She stopped still and grabbed his arm.
    "What is it?"
    "Over on the bench at the town hall." She pointed. "Someone's sitting there, watching us."
    Frank narrowed his eyes. "You're right. Wait. I hear a groan."
    He left her on the sidewalk and went running over to the figure on the bench.
    "Careful," murmured Jenny.
    It was a boy of about fourteen, slumped on the bench. He was clutching at his midsection, and his breath came in shallow pants. "I shouldn't ... have snuck out."
    "What's wrong?"
    "I guess," the kid gasped, "I've got it too."
    Frank sat beside him. "The illness that's been going around?"
    "Yeah. Worst kind of flu. My father's got it, been in bed ... three days." The kid's eyes seemed glassy in the dim light. "Usually ... never sick ... "
    "How come you're out here?"
    "Me and a couple of my friends ... going to get together," came the groggy reply. "Just hanging out. Got this far, but got dizzy ..." The kid groaned again, pressing his hand flat against his stomach. His face was dotted with perspiration.
    "How far from here do you live?"
    "Just two blocks, over on Lombard Street." The kid took a deep breath. "Do you know where that is?"
    "We can find it." Frank took hold of the sick boy's arm. "Think you can walk?"
    "If we go really slow." The kid sounded embarrassed. "And somebody helps me."
    "I'll do that." Frank took most of the weight as the kid wobbled to his feet.
    The boy swayed, rubbing at his sweating forehead. "Still pretty dizzy—" His panting was worse, too.
    Cautiously, Jenny came closer, stopping about five feet from them. "He's got it too?"
    "I'd say so."
    The young boy stared at the girl, his eyes getting sharper. "Who are you folks?"
    "Visitors," she answered.
    "They don't allow visitors. We're quarantined," he said. "It's Dr. Winter's idea. He's working on a cure. Dad thinks ... get outside help ... won't let us."
    "Can't you phone out?"
    "The lines are down."
    "Let's get you home. What's your name?"
    "S - Sean."
    "I'm Frank, this is Jenny." Slowly, Frank helped the boy walk to the street. "Which way?"
    "We take this street—over toward the Wheelan house."
    Frank shot a look at Jenny. "The big house up there on the hill?" he asked.
    Sean nodded. "Then we go off to the right. Boy, I just got it all of a sudden." His voice sounded almost dreamy. "Just like my dad. Mom's okay, so far, but her friend—old Mrs. Ferguson — she died."
    Their progress was slow. Sean didn't seem to see where he was walking. He nearly fell twice in the first block. The second time, Jenny grabbed his arm to save him. She supported him on the other side.
    Frank asked, "Is Dr. Winter up at the Wheelan house?"
    "Sometimes. He's supposed to be helping us, but that's not all he's doing."
    "What do you mean?"
    "Me and my friend Jayce, we followed him one time." Sean's panting got worse. "On our bikes ... he didn't know it. There's a fair road ... runs from the mansion to the old mill. It's about ... Boy, I'm getting dizzier. About twenty miles east of here ... the old mill."
    "Why does Winter go there?"
    "Has a big lab. Can we stop a minute?" He swayed dangerously, even with Frank and Jenny holding on.
    Jenny said, "We've got to get help for these people. As soon as we find Joe and your father."
    Sean's voice was dreamy again, almost muttering. "Doc's got big lab ... computers ... all sorts of stuff... we looked in window."
    Very slowly they made their way along another block when the boy said, "My house is next."
    "We'll see you to your door," Frank told Sean, "but we won't wait around."
    "Sure. You don't want to be seen. Anyway, thanks — couldn't have gotten here without help."
    Inside the white frame house a dog started barking.
    "That's Gus — dumb name for a dog. My stupid sister