The End of the Trail (13 page)

Slowly Frank and Phil nodded agreement. Even Jack and Loraleigh joined in,
though reluctantly. Only Biff seemed oblivious to Joe's scheme. He kept staring at
Rhonda.

“But now that we know you were in on the scheme,” Joe went on,
“we'll split it with you, too. In fact, since you were the mastermind,
we'll give you half. I bet your friends back in town wouldn't let you have
that much. Now they'll be cut out completely. And they can't go to the
authorities because they'd all end up in jail for aiding and abetting.”

“I don't believe you,” Rhonda said. “You seem like
a nice bunch of kids. You wouldn't get involved in anything like that.”

“You seem pretty nice, too,” Joe said. “But, hey, it
turns out that you're as scuzzy as the rest of us.”

“So are you inviting me to come with you?” she asked.
“And split the money when we get out of town?”

“You bet,” Joe said. “We're all friends here. And
friends share things with their friends, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Phil Cohen said unenthusiastically.

“Sure thing,” Frank added.

“So how about it?” Joe said. “Why don't you put
that gun away and hop back in the truck. We'll be out of this stream in no
time.”

“Good thing,” Phil said. “My feet
are about to freeze off.”

Rhonda pondered Joe's remarks. “No,” she said finally.
“I can't do it. I can't betray my friends. We're going to wait
for them to arrive.”

“I'm your friend, too,” Biff said. “I know I am.
How can you betray
me?”

He moved forward, but one of the wet crutches slipped abruptly from his
grasp. As his injured foot touched the ground, he let out a yelp and collapsed.

Rhonda acted instinctively, rushing to help him. Joe reacted just as
quickly, running up behind her and grabbing her gun. Rhonda barely seemed to notice, so
intent was she on helping Biff.

“That was a dirty trick,” Rhonda muttered to Biff.

“It wasn't a trick,” Biff said. “I really
fell.”

“Why don't you hang on to this,” Joe said, handing the
gun to Jack Mason. “I don't think we'll be needing it
anymore.”

•  •  •

Brighton wasn't large, but it looked like a major metropolitan area
compared to Morgan's Quarry. It had a police station run by competent officers. It
also had a small but well-staffed hospital, where Frank and Joe sat near the emergency
room, waiting for the doctor to report on Biff's condition. It was late evening
and they were extremely tired, but they wanted to find out how Biff was doing before
they
checked into the local motel. Jack and Loraleigh sat across
from them, as Phil Cohen played with a piece of high-tech medical equipment. Chet was
off somewhere looking for the snack room.

“Hey, this is a pretty nice piece of equipment!” Phil said,
examining a video monitor that could display a patient's heart rate, blood oxygen
level, and several dozen other things. It wasn't hooked up to a patient at the
moment, so the colored lines that ran from one side of the screen to the other were all
flat.

“Couldn't be
too
good,” Joe
said. “The patient seems to be dead.”

Phil gave him a dirty look. Jack Mason stood up and walked across to the
Hardys.

“I want to thank you boys again for helping us,” he said.

“Thank us?” Frank asked. “We're the ones who ought
to be thanking you. You and Loraleigh helped us get out of Morgan's Quarry
alive.”

“We didn't help out that much,” Jack said. “But
you boys got me to do what I should have done a long time ago: confront Bill McSavage
and get him to shut down his illegal operations.”

“Well, you didn't know he
had
any
illegal operations anymore,” Joe said.

“True,” Jack said. “But there were all those years when
he ran the casino. And I should have known he'd be up to something
again.”

“I can't tell you how glad I am to be out
of that town,” Loraleigh said. “I've spent my entire life in
Morgan's Quarry, but there are so many people there who frightened me. Like those
Brookburn brothers. And I never really liked Bill McSavage, even though he was our
biggest customer. There was something evil behind his eyes, even when he was laughing
and smiling.”

“So where will you and your father be going now?” Frank
asked.

“To relatives,” Jack Mason said. “We'll move in
with them for a while. Then we'll start a new life, a long way from Morgan's
Quarry.”

Just then an imposing white-haired figure appeared in the door to the
emergency room. It was Ron Hansen, police chief of Brighton. The Hardys had met him
earlier when they arrived in town with the truck full of cash. They hadn't wanted
to spend any more time hauling the stolen loot around than they had to.

“Thought you fellas would like to know,” he said. “Bill
McSavage and friends have been picked up over in Morgan's Quarry and are on their
way here for questioning.”

“All right!” Joe said, applauding. “I hope you throw the
book at him.”

“Even better,” Chief Hansen said. “The FBI is coming to
town. Turns out that the money was taken over state lines, so now it's a federal
case. Mr. McSavage
is probably going to spend the rest of his life
in jail.”

“Where he belongs,” Jack said.

“Looks like the Hardy Boys have solved another case,” Joe
said, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head. There was a smug look on his
face.

“With a little help from our friends,” Frank said, gesturing
toward Jack, Loraleigh, Phil, and Chet, who had just returned with several bags of
snacks and two hot dogs.

“Speaking of your friends,” Chief Hansen asked,
“how's that Biff fella doing?”

“There's the man you should ask,” Joe said, pointing to
a youngish doctor in a white coat who was standing at the edge of the crowd, not wanting
to interrupt the conversation.

“Why, hello, Dr. Mitchell,” Chief Hansen said. “I should
have known you'd be the one taking care of Biff.”

The doctor nodded shyly. “Anyway, I wanted everybody to know that
Biff's okay.”

“Thank goodness,” Frank said. “How's his leg
doing?”

“Pretty well,” the doctor said, “considering what
he's been through. He'll be off it for six weeks, and it'll be at
least two months before he can play football again, but he shouldn't have any
lasting problems.”

“That's good news,” Chet said. “All of Bayport
High would be in mourning if we lost our best fullback.”

“So I guess this means we can go back to the Appalachian Trail and
pick up where we left off,” Phil said excitedly.

Frank, Joe, and Chet all swiveled their heads toward their friend, giving
him their most withering looks.

“You'll be hiking alone,” Joe said. “I don't
want to be near a trail again for a good long time.”

“Or until we have another case,” Frank said, “to make
you forget about this one.”

“Which should be just about any time,” Chet said. “You
guys have a knack for finding trouble.”

“Well, don't lose the knack,” Jack Mason said. “If
you can help other people like you helped us, you should keep right on finding
trouble.”

“I think,” Frank said quite sincerely, “that's one
thing that Joe and I can guarantee.”