Free The Genius Thieves by Franklin W. Dixon Page A

he said. "What are you going to do if you can't, steal my idea? Try to get a patent? Oh, I've got your number — "
    "Easy, Jed," Frank said. He and Joe hadn't expected that. "You've got this wrong — "
    "Prove it," Jed answered, "I dare you."
    "We're out of here," Joe muttered to Frank. "Uh, listen, Jed," he said, backing away. "We've enjoyed meeting you, but we can't stay and talk. Maybe some other time — "
    With that, Frank and Joe turned to jog back to the van. "Dad's going to laugh when I tell him about this one," Joe muttered as they climbed in.
    Jed stood by the river, hurling insults at them as they drove away.
    The next day Frank mulled over the scene with Jed on his way to English class. He was so lost in thought that he walked right by Sarah.
    "Hey, why the cold shoulder?" she asked.
    "Oh, sorry, Sarah," said Frank. "Guess I'm just tense about getting my exam back today. I still think I blew it."
    Sarah laughed. "Something tells me you're in for a surprise," she said.
    They sat down in class, and immediately Mr. Osborn started handing out the papers.
    "Not bad, most of you," he said as he got to Brad's desk. Out of the corner of his eye, Frank could see Brad's grade: C + . Brad seemed pleased.
    "Mr. Pierce — " Osborn continued, "Miss Waterbury — " He handed Sarah her paper. A bright red A - was written at the top. Frank breathed a sigh of relief, realizing his must be close to the same grade.
    Sarah turned around and gave Frank a thumbs-up sign. Frank smiled back. Before long Mr. Osborn called out Frank's name and handed over his exam. Frank snatched it eagerly and looked at it. His face fell when he saw the grade.
    D-.
    He couldn't understand how it happened. He knew his answers were the same as Sarah's. Bewildered, he glanced through the exam. It was full of red marks. He read what he had written— and suddenly it all became clear.
    All the answers were different from the ones he remembered, and the handwriting wasn't quite right. Someone had forged his exam and switched it with the real one.
    At the end of the exam was a note: "Frank, I expected more from you. Dean Castigan has asked that you see him in his office at the end of the school-day — Mr. Osborn."
    After class, Frank went up to Mr. Osborn. "I didn't write these answers, Mr. Osborn," he said. "I think someone is playing a trick. This looks like my handwriting, but I swear it's not! Someone substituted this test for mine. Please let me take the exam over."
    Mr. Osborn looked at Frank and said, "We might be able to work something out, Frank, but the test has to count. And I'd be careful about making a serious charge like forgery. You're obviously very upset, but I can't do much about it."
    Frank stormed into the hallway, where Sarah was waiting. "What happened?" she asked.
    "Someone wants me out of Chartwell," Frank said angrily. "And I don't know who."
    The rest of the day, he couldn't concentrate in his classes. At the end of last period, he marched down to Mr. Castigan's office.
    "Have a seat," Mr. Castigan said gravely. "I need to have a talk with you. You know, you haven't exactly gotten off to a good start at Chartwell."
    "Mr. Castigan, my English exam was forged. None of the answers matched the ones I put on the exam. And the handwriting wasn't mine."
    Castigan began pacing the floor. "Frank, I have your file here. Let's look at your admissions essay." He pulled out a piece of paper from Frank's admissions file, which was on his desk. Next to it he held up the English exam. "It looks like the same handwriting to me."
    "I know. It's a very good forgery. But you've got to believe me!"
    "I wish I could, Frank. But I can't ignore what I've seen this week. First it was the episode in the file room, and then the fire in your dorm room. I told the administration not to suspend you, just to keep a close eye on you—because I thought you had potential. But now even your schoolwork is suffering."
    "I swear to you, Mr. Castigan — "
    "Swearing