Joe gulped. That thing would make a dangerous weapon!
“My kids are musicians,” Kit went on. “Not escorts for some giant green blob with legs!”
“Sorry, Kit,” Kevin said. “But I can’t change the lineup now.”
“What?” Kit cried.
“One more thing,” Kevin added. “Teach your band the Green Crawler theme song. It’ll be perfect for the parade.”
Kit angrily turned on her boot heel and huffed off.
“Not a Green Crawler fan,” Kevin joked. He then introduced the brothers to someone much friendlier—Lynn Braun, the captain of the balloon handlers.
“How do handlers keep such huge balloons from flying away?” Frank asked.
“By getting a good grip,” Lynn said, “and pulling down hard on the ropes attached to the balloon.”
Joe flexed his arm. “We’re just the guys for the job!” he declared.
“We’ll go over the directions later,” Lynn said, chuckling. “But here’s Brett with your handler uniforms.”
The guy named Brett carried two shopping bags over. One was marked JOE HARDY, the other FRANK HARDY.
The brothers looked inside their bags. Each had a green jumpsuit, thick work gloves, and a Green Crawler mask!
“The masks are cool,” Joe said. “But how will anyone know it’s us under them?”
“Easy,” Brett said, and smirked. “You’ll be the only little squirts handling the balloon.”
“Who are you calling squirts?” Joe complained.
“Kidding!” Brett said.
Joe could tell by Brett’s eyes that he hadn’t been kidding.
“May I take a picture of the Green Crawler balloon before it’s blown up?” Frank asked Lynn.
“It’s eight thirty,” Lynn said with a glance at her watch. “You have an hour until we blow up the balloon.”
“Cool!” Joe said. They were about to get up close and personal with the Green Crawler balloon!
“Just don’t touch the balloon or step on it,” Lynn added sternly.
The brothers left their bags inside the tent. On the way to the balloon, Frank took a picture of the Bayport Boomerangs practicing a song. But where was Kit?
“Take a picture of me in front of the balloon, Frank!” Joe called, already running toward it.
But as the brothers approached the balloon, they saw a big lump moving around underneath the material.
“What’s that?” Frank asked.
The weird lump started moving to the other side of the balloon. Then suddenly out from under crawled Kit!
Kit glanced around quickly before standing up and hurrying away.
“What was Kit doing under there?” Frank wondered.
“Who knows?” Joe shrugged. “Come on, Frank. I’m ready for my close-up!”
“Okay,” Frank said. “But remember what Lynn said. Don’t step on the balloon!”
Joe was careful to stand inches away from the balloon. He pulled out his lucky claw and held it in the air. “Make sure you get this in the picture,” he said.
Frank was about to take the shot when—
“Say ‘cheesy,’ loser!” someone jeered.
Joe gasped as a pitchfork-wielding scarecrow leaped in front of him. The scarecrow jabbed his fork in Joe’s direction, making Joe stumble back.
“Whoooaaaa!” Joe cried.
His lucky claw flew out of his hand as he felt himself falling—back onto the balloon!
4
Blamed and Framed
Great,” Joe muttered as he lay flat on the thick nylon material.
“Joe, are you okay?” Frank called.
“I’m okay,” Joe said, sitting up. “But is the balloon okay?”
Before checking the balloon, Joe glared at the scarecrow. He wore a floppy straw hat that covered most of his face. But when he laughed, Joe knew who he was.
“Adam!” Joe snapped.
“Ba-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Adam laughed, swinging his pitchfork. “Hope you had a nice trip, Hardy!”
Frank took a step toward Adam, but the bully was already running away.
Joe stood up. He bent down to pick up his Crawler claw. That’s when a voice shouted, “I told you not to touch that balloon!”
Looking up, Joe saw Lynn running over, followed by Kevin and Brett.
“It was an accident,” Joe told them. “Someone scared me and I tripped.”
Brett pointed to Joe’s Crawler claw on the balloon. “That toy of his probably ripped the balloon,” he accused.
“No, it didn’t,” Joe said, lifting the Crawler claw. “I don’t see any rips anywhere.”
“The balloon is made of thick nylon,” Lynn told Kevin. “I doubt the toy ripped it.”
“We’ll find out,” Brett said, “when we blow up the balloon.”
Kevin waved to Joe. “Just get off the balloon carefully,” he said.
Joe was careful as he stepped off. Kevin, Lynn, and Brett were already heading back to the tent.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t rip the balloon,” Frank said. “Or we’d be out of the parade.”
“Thanks to Adam,” Joe said. “What was he doing here dressed as a goofy scarecrow?”
“The Taylor Smyth float,” Frank reminded him. “Adam probably volunteered to be on it.”
“Yeah, so he could make trouble.” Joe frowned.
The last thing Frank and Joe wanted was more trouble. Instead of looking for Adam, they headed to the snack table. There they spoke to more volunteers, including clowns, float drivers, and two other scarecrows.
Frank decided he would ask the scarecrows about Adam, but just then someone shouted, “Hey, everybody! They’re pumping up the balloon!”
“All right!” Joe cheered.
The brothers followed the crowd to the Green Crawler balloon. A crew was pumping it up with helium from a huge tank.
Frank and Joe watched, wide-eyed. It took lots of helium to fill those green muscles, but soon the boys’ favorite superhero was rising off the ground.
“Whoa!” Frank exclaimed.
The Green Crawler hovered a few inches above the grass—until he began shriveling right before everyone’s eyes!
“Frank,” Joe gasped, “the Green Crawler is . . . shrinking!”
Fssssssss! Everyone’s jaws dropped as the Green Crawler collapsed to the ground with a hiss.
“The balloon was punctured!” Lynn exclaimed.
Brett pointed a finger at Joe. “Thanks to that kid!” he growled.
“What?” Joe cried.
“He told you,” Frank said to Brett. “It wasn’t ripped.”
“Will the other volunteers go back to their floats, please?” Kevin called out. “Will the Bayport Boomerangs clear the area too?”
“Come on, kids,” Kit told the band. She smirked at the deflated balloon. “Maybe we won’t have to learn that Green Crawler tune after all.”
Frank and Joe waited until the others had left.
“Maybe the balloon was ripped in the factory,” Joe told Lynn. “You said yourself it was made of thick nylon, so it would be hard for someone to rip it.”
“The balloon was checked for rips in the factory,” Lynn said. “And our handlers were very careful with it when they spread it out.”
Kevin heaved a sigh. “We saw you messing around on that balloon, Joe,” he said.
“But—” Joe started to say.
“I know you won the contest, Joe,” Lynn cut in, “but you and your brother did sign an agreement.”
“The one about disrespectful behavior?” Joe asked. He felt his heart sink. “Does this mean we’re out of the parade?”
“I’m afraid so,” Kevin said with a frown.
“Oh no!” Frank groaned.
Joe opened his mouth to speak. He was so upset, nothing came out.
“Excuse me,” Frank said. “If Joe and I find the real person who ripped the balloon, can we march in the parade?”
“The real person?” Lynn repeated.
“We’re detectives,” Frank explained.
“Good ones!” Joe added.
“Sure, sure,” Kevin said dismissively. “Go play detective.”
Frank and Joe both frowned. Play?
“Can the rip be patched in time for the parade?” Kevin asked Lynn.
“Probably,” Lynn said. “But since the parade is tomorrow, we’ll have to work fast.”
Frank turned to Joe and whispered, “So will we!”
5
Claws and Clues
Frank and Joe turned in their IDs and handler uniforms—but they refused to lose hope.
“At least we still have a chance of being in the parade,” Frank said as he and Joe made their way out of the park.
“First we have to find the real balloon slasher,” Joe said. “Where do we start?”
“Where we always start,” Frank said. “The six Ws—Who, What, When, Where, Why, and How.” The six Ws system was actually five Ws and one H, but it was a lot easier to call it the six Ws.
The system had been taught to Frank and Joe by their dad. Mr. Hardy was a private detective and sometimes helped the brothers with their cases. He had also helped build them a secret tree house in the woods behind the house. The tree house had become the brothers’ detective headquarters. It was where they wrote the six Ws on a big dry-erase board.
“I don’t want to wait until we’re in our tree house,” Joe said impatiently. “I want to write the six Ws now.”
“But we didn’t bring any pens or paper,” Frank said as they passed the basketball court.
“Hmm,” Joe said, looking around. That’s when he saw a girl drawing on the basketball court with colored chalk.
“Joe, wait up!” Frank called as Joe began running toward the girl.
The girl was putting the finishing touches on a butterfly she was drawing as Frank and Joe hurried over.
“Excuse me,” Joe said. “Can we borrow a piece of chalk?”
The girl pointed to the Green Crawler claw in Joe’s pocket. “Sure,” she said. “If you let me play with that!”
“Okay,” Joe said. “Just be careful with it!” He exchanged the claw for a piece of green chalk. Green for the Green Crawler.
“Let’s get to work,” Frank declared.
They kneeled on the court, where Joe wrote the word “What.”
“What happened?” Joe asked.
“Someone slashed the Green Crawler balloon when no one was looking,” Frank decided.
Joe wrote that out. The next W was When. That was usually the toughest!
“We got to the park at seven thirty,” Joe remembered. “The handlers were starting to spread out the balloon.”
“It could have happened after they left the balloon,” Frank suggested. “There was no one there when we went to take the picture.”
“That was eight thirty,” Joe said. “I remember Lynn telling us the time.”
“Seven thirty . . . eight thirty,” Frank thought out loud. “That means the balloon could have been slashed between—”
“Seven thirty and eight thirty,” Joe cut in excitedly.
Joe’s fingers turned green as he scribbled the time line on the court.
He then turned to Frank and said, “Next W—Where did it happen?”
“Lynn said the balloon was in good shape at the factory,” Frank said. “So the damage probably happened in the park.”
Then Joe asked, “Why would anyone want to slash the Green Crawler balloon? And How did they slash it?”
“Maybe somebody wanted to get even with the parade,” Frank said, and shrugged. “Kit was mad at Kevin for making the band march in front of the Green Crawler balloon.”
“She also had that pointy baton,” Joe said. “Pointy enough to poke a hole in the balloon.”
“We saw her crawling underneath the balloon too,” Frank pointed out. “Pretty suspicious, if you ask me.”
Joe wrote Kit’s name on the cement. He then looked up and said, “Maybe somebody didn’t want to get even with the parade—but with us.”
“Us?” Frank repeated.
“Adam was a sore loser when I won the contest,” Joe said. “He was also carrying that sharp pitchfork.”
“We know what a creep Adam can be too,” Frank said. But as Joe wrote Adam’s name, Frank thought of one more.
“What about Sammy and his Nutty the Squirrel fan club?” Frank asked. “They were here, checking out the Green Crawler balloon.”
Joe began to write Sammy’s name, and then said, “How do you spell ‘Kernkraut?’ ”
“K-e-r-n-k-r-a-u-t!” a voice shouted.
“Huh?” Joe said. He turned to see the chalk girl walking over. She was smiling as she snapped Joe’s Green Crawler claw.
“What are you, a spelling bee champ?” Joe asked.
“No, silly,” the girl said. “Sammy Kernkraut is my brother. He’s eight, and I’m five and three quarters.”
“You’re Sammy’s sister?” Frank asked.
“Does that answer your question?” she asked. Using the claw, she pointed to her signature under the butterfly: Sadie Kernkraut.
Frank raised an eyebrow at Joe. Maybe Sadie could tell them what Sammy and the club had done.
“So, Sadie,” Frank said. “What did your brother do this morning?”
“Sammy and the club usually watch the Nutty the Squirrel show every Saturday morning,” Sadie said. She shook her head hard. “But not today.”
“How come?” Joe asked.
“The club had something important to do,” Sadie said. “Really, really important.”
Joe urged her on. “What did they do?”
“Was it something with a giant balloon?” Frank asked.
“I’m not telling,” Sadie said. She held up the Green Crawler claw. “Unless you give me this thing for keeps.”
“Nuh-uh,” Joe said, shaking his head. “No deal.”
“Let her have it, Joe!” Frank urged.
“But it’s my lucky charm!” Joe argued.
“How lucky could it be if you had it when we got fired?” Frank argued back. “And she might give us a great clue.”
“Clue?” Sadie gasped. “Are you guys spies?”
Joe didn’t answer. He just held out his hand and said, “Come on. Give it up.”
“No claw, no clue,” Sadie said. She gave Joe the claw, then pointed behind him. “Look. Here comes a scarecrow!”
Frank and Joe turned to see a kid dressed as a scarecrow walking in their direction. When they saw the pitchfork in his hand, they knew who it was!
“Adam Ackerman!” Frank declared.
When Adam saw the brothers, he narrowed his eyes. He then turned and ran the other way.
“He’s not getting away this time!” Frank said.
Joe dropped the chalk. In a flash he and Frank were chasing Adam through the park.
“Somebody stop that scarecrow!” Frank yelled as they charged past the playground.
Adam raced onto the parade practice field. So did Frank and Joe. Adam headed straight toward the Taylor Smyth hoedown float. So did Frank and Joe.
“We’re catching up!” Frank said.
“Are we lucky or what?” Joe exclaimed.
Their luck ran out as a bunch of other scarecrows began dancing in their direction. Frank and Joe groaned as the scarecrows from the hoedown float blocked their way!
“Get out of the way—please!” Joe shouted.
“You get out of the way,” one of the scarecrows shouted over the canned music. “We’re practicing here!”
The brothers scurried around the scarecrows. But the scarecrow they wanted was gone.
“Maybe he’s on the float,” Joe said.
The brothers climbed up onto the hoedown float. They didn’t see Adam, but they saw his pitchfork leaning against the barn.
“Careful,” Joe said as Frank reached for the pitchfork. “That thing is sharp.”
“No, it’s not,” Frank said as he flicked the prongs. “
These things are made out of rubber!”
“Rubber?” Joe cried. He felt a prong to see for himself. It was soft and rubbery—and it bounced!
“Adam couldn’t have ripped the balloon with this fork,” Frank said, leaning the pitchfork back on the barn.
“I still don’t trust Adam,” Joe said. “Maybe he had a pair of scissors in his pocket or something else sharp.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Frank said. He pounded on the barn door and yelled, “Open up! Open up!”
“Or we’ll open it for you!” Joe shouted.
Frank and Joe pounded and shouted—until two tall shadows slowly loomed over them.
Turning, the brothers gulped. Behind them were two big guys wearing leather jackets and dark shades. The one chewing a toothpick gazed down at them and said through gritted teeth:
“Looking for someone, fellas?”
6
Undercover Brothers
Frank and Joe stared up at the guys.
“Um—we were looking for the person who ripped the Green Crawler balloon!” Joe blurted.
“We think he’s hiding in the barn!” Frank said.
The barn door creaked open. Was Adam giving himself up? But instead of Adam stepping out, it was—
“Taylor Smyth!” Joe gasped.
Taylor wore a red-and-white plaid shirt, jean shorts, and a big smile. “Hi, boys,” she said. “I see you’ve met my bodyguards, Dash and Boris.”
Joe heard a snicker. He turned to see Adam peeking out from behind the barn.
“There he is!” Joe said, pointing. “There’s the guy who ripped the Green Crawler balloon!”
Adam coolly strolled out from behind the barn. “Who, me?” he asked innocently.
The other scarecrows had stopped dancing. They stood on the float, watching everything.
“Go ahead, Boris and Dash,” Frank said. “Check Adam’s pockets for scissors or something else sharp.”
Another scarecrow let out a laugh.
“Good luck with that!” he said. “Our scarecrow costumes have no pockets!”
“Yeah!” a teenage scarecrow with a flowered hat complained. “I have nowhere to put my cell phone.”
Balloon Blow-Up Page 2