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Authors: Franklin W. Dixon

The Sting of the Scorpion

BOOK: The Sting of the Scorpion
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Table of Contents
 
 
THE STING OF THE SCORPION
 
 
During Mr. Hardy's investigation of a ruthless gang of terrorists, Frank and Joe witness an explosion in the sky near an airborne dirigible owned by Quinn Air Fleet. They decide to look into the matter. The first clue takes them into a new animal park outside Bayport, where they are lured into a trap by an unknown enemy.
Pop Carter, the park's owner, has problems, too. He is being pressured into selling out by a competitor as well as a real-estate firm that wants the land for other purposes. At the same time, strange occurrences frighten both visitors and animals.
Frank and Joe are warned to stay out of the case, but follow up another clue. It leads them to an abandoned island, where they barely escape severe injury. When they return, they find a threatening message on their front door, written in an Oriental language. Do they have to contend with yet another adversary? They face danger from all sides, but their superior sleuthing skills and their courage win out in the end, when they unravel the threats of this many-faceted mystery.
Chet yelled in fright as he plunged to the ground.
PRINTED ON RECYCLED PAPER
 
 
Copyright © 1979 by Simon & Schuster, Inc. All rights reserved.
Published by Grosset & Dunlap, Inc., a member of The Putnam & Grosset
Group, New York. Published simultaneously in Canada. S.A.
THE HARDY BOYS® is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.
eISBN : 978-1-101-07667-5
2005 Printing

http://us.penguingroup.com

CHAPTER I
An Elephant Vanishes
 
 
 
 
THE roar of an engine passing overhead vibrated through the Hardy house on Elm street one June morning.
“What in the world is that?” said Frank Hardy, who had just finished breakfast. “Sure doesn't sound like an airplane!”
“Let's find out!” exclaimed his younger brother. Blond and impetuous, Joe Hardy leaped up from the table.
Dark-haired Frank followed. They rushed out on the porch to peer up at the sky. A gleaming silver airship was sailing over Bayport.
“It's the
Safari Queen!”
shouted Joe.
“She was never that loud before.” Frank frowned. “I wonder if they've got engine trouble?”
Seventeen-year-old Joe shaded his eyes against the sunshine and watched the huge airship anxiously, while his brother hurried inside for binoculars. The
Safari Queen,
biggest craft of its kind since the ill-fated
Hindenburg,
had aroused the keen interest and hopes of all lighter-than-air enthusiasts.
Frank returned and focused the glasses. “Oh, no!” he cried out. “Something fell out of the gondola!”
A vivid flash dazzled the boys' vision. A boom like thunder reached their ears, and billowing clouds of smoke blotted the airship from sight.
“Maybe the Queen exploded!” Joe gasped.
But the dirigible soon became visible again as the smoke cleared. Something else could be seen —and it caused the boys to stare in horror.
An elephant was plunging from the sky!
“I d-don't believe it!” stuttered Joe, who could discern the creature even without binoculars. The words were hardly out of his mouth when another explosion startled the brothers.
“The elephant blew up!” Frank exclaimed in a shocked voice. He lowered the glasses and the two boys exchanged stunned glances.
“I heard on the TV news that the
Queen
was bringing a load of wild African animals on this trip,” Joe said, “for that new animal park, Wild World. But I never thought one would fall overboard!”
“If it really did,” Frank added thoughtfully.
“What do you mean? We both saw it happen.”
“Yes, but I was watching through binoculars and, you know, there was something funny about that elephant.”
“Funny? What's funny about an animal blowing up?” Joe demanded indignantly.
“Nothing. But I'm not sure that it was a real animal.”
“You think we were seeing things?”
“Of course not. But somehow that elephant looked—” Frank paused and scratched his head, “Well, I don't know, sort of stiff and unnatural.”
“You mean, like a dummy?” Joe asked with an expression of quickening interest.
Frank nodded, frowning. “I guess so—a stuffed animal, or something like that.”
“But why would anyone pull such a trick?”
“Search me. A publicity gimmick, maybe?”
Joe snapped his fingers. “Hey, that's an idea. Wild World just opened recently. Maybe someone thought this would attract customers to the park.”
“Could be,” Frank agreed. “But if you're right, I'd say whoever dreamed it up has weird taste in publicity stunts.”
The dirigible seemed to be proceeding smoothly on course with no further sign of trouble. But the two explosions and the loud engine sound, compared to the Queen's normally silent flight, were alarming. The falling elephant added an even stranger touch.
“Let's go watch her land, and find out what happened!” Joe suggested.
“Good idea!”
The Hardy boys were fond of mysteries, and this one looked intriguing. They were heading for their car when the mailman came along. He had watched the startling sky scene, as had several other people in the area.
“What did you make of those blasts up there, fellows?” he asked, handing Joe a batch of letters.
“We can't figure them out,” Joe replied. “But we intend to go and see.”
“Leave it to you two.” The postman chuckled.
Frank and Joe, both star athletes at Bayport High, were the sons of Fenton Hardy, a former New York City police detective who had retired from the force and was now a world-famous private investigator. His two boys already showed signs of following in their father's footsteps. Their most recent mystery,
The Firebird Rocket,
had taken the young sleuths to Australia on the trail of a missing space scientist.
Joe glanced through the letters the mailman had handed him and plucked out one addressed to The Hardy Boys. He went inside and tossed the others on the hall table, then hurried to join his brother, who was already easing their car down the drive. Soon they were bowling along toward the Quinn Air Fleet terminal, just north of town, where the airship would dock.
“Too bad this had to happen,” Frank remarked as he steered the car through traffic. “Those explosions may start people thinking all over again that dirigibles are unsafe.”
“True,” Joe agreed. “It could set back the whole lighter-than-air movement.”
The fiery crash of the
Hindenburg,
decades before, had ended dirigible development for many years. But the successful maiden voyage of the Safari Queen, which was the first of several such craft to be built for the Quinn Air Fleet, had raised hopes for a new generation of airships. Today's incident might dash those hopes.
As the boys approached the terminal, the number of cars heading toward the scene increased to a massive traffic jam, with drivers and passengers gawking at the fenced-in grounds of the Quinn Air Fleet base.
The dirigible was now nosed into her mooring mast, a stubby domed tower especially designed for quick, convenient debarking of the passengers.
“Looks okay,” Joe reported, craning out the car window for a better view.
“Thank goodness,” Frank said in relief. “I'll bet half these people thought they might see another
Hindenburg
disaster!”
The lines of traffic crawled, bumper to bumper, toward the terminal entrance. Just as the Hardys reached the intersection fronting the gates, the light changed to red. A policeman waved all cars away from the terminal, and the boys realized that their trip had been wasted.
BOOK: The Sting of the Scorpion
10.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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