Balloon Blow-Up

by Franklin W. Dixon; Scott Burroughs

  “Or my gum!” a younger scarecrow added.

  “That was my idea, you guys,” Taylor said, and smiled. “I don’t want any snacking or texting on my float.”

  “Want to check my pockets now, losers?” Adam sneered at Frank and Joe.

  “And no name-calling on my float, either,” Taylor scolded Adam.

  The bodyguards now loomed over Adam.

  “What are you doing back here, anyway?” Boris demanded. “You were fired.”

  “Fired?” Joe asked.

  “He tied my manager’s shoelaces together earlier this morning,” Taylor said. “What a pest!”

  “I’m going, I’m going!” Adam groaned.

  “Don’t forget to return your costume at the tent.” Dash pointed two fingers at his own eyes, then at Adam’s. “I’ll be watching you, wise guy!”

  Adam stomped his way out of the barn.

  “We’d better go too,” Frank murmured to Joe.

  “Wait!” Joe said. “We forgot something important.”

  “We did?” Frank asked. “What?”

  “We forgot to get Taylor’s autograph!” Joe said with a smile.

  Taylor was happy to give Frank and Joe signed pictures. The brothers thanked Taylor, then left to meet their parents outside the park.

  “How did parade practice go?” Fenton Hardy asked as the boys climbed into the backseat of the car.

  Frank and Joe traded embarrassed looks.

  “Well,” Frank said slowly, “we got to meet Taylor Smyth.”

  “Taylor who?” Mrs. Hardy asked.

  “She’s a singer, Mom,” Joe explained. He took a deep breath before adding, “Um . . . we also got fired from the parade.”

  “What?” Mr. and Mrs. Hardy exclaimed at the same time.

  Frank explained all about Adam’s causing Joe to fall on the balloon, and how everyone blamed Joe.

  “I’m sure the balloon wasn’t ripped after I fell on it,” Joe said.

  “Hmm,” Fenton said as he drove. “Sounds like you guys were framed.”

  “Do you want your father and me to talk to Mr. Lively?” Mrs. Hardy asked over her shoulder.

  “No thanks, Mom,” Frank said. “We want to find the real balloon ripper ourselves.”

  “So the Hardy brothers are on the case.” Fenton smiled. “Do you have any suspects?”

  “Only two left, Dad,” Joe said. “Kit the bandleader and the Nutty the Squirrel fan club.”

  “We’ll never be able to question the club,” Frank said. “Sammy Kernkraut knows we’re not big Nutty fans.”

  “We can pretend we want to join the club,” Joe said. “I’ve heard them talk about it and they meet every Saturday at Sammy’s house at eleven.”

  “But we don’t know where Sammy lives,” Frank said.

  “I do,” Mrs. Hardy said. “It’s in the middle of the block on Mortimer Street.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” Joe said.

  “But it’s more than an hour until eleven o’clock,” Fenton said. “What do you boys want to do before the club?”

  Joe’s stomach growled loudly. “Does that answer your question?” he asked.

  “Who’s in the mood for pancakes?” Frank asked.

  “Me!” Joe said. “As long as they don’t have blueberries. I hate blueberries in my pancakes.”

  After a late breakfast it was time to get to work. Frank and Joe were dropped off in front of Sammy’s house, where they walked straight to the front door.

  “Remember,” Joe whispered as he rang the doorbell. “We’re nutty for Nutty.”

  Sammy himself opened the door, still wearing his furry squirrel hat.

  “We’d like to join your club,” Joe declared.

  Sammy raised a suspicious brow. “I thought you were Green Crawler fans,” he said.

  “Not anymore,” Frank said.

  “The Green Crawler balloon popped,” Joe added. “What superhero has a wimpy balloon?”

  “We want Nutty back in the parade too,” Frank said. “That’s why we’re here.”

  Sammy seemed to think about it. He then stepped aside and said, “Okay. Come on in.”

  “All riiiiight!” Joe said. He snuck Frank a thumbs-up as they followed Sammy up the stairs. They were in!

  Upstairs in Sammy’s room Frank and Joe were not surprised to see several Nutty posters and bobbleheads, along with the other Nutty club members.

  “Frank and Joe have finally wised up,” Sammy announced to the group. “They’re Nutty fans now.”

  The other club members, some wearing squirrel hats, cheered their approval.

  “Now that we’re in the club,” Frank said casually, “what did you guys do today?”

  “Not so fast,” Sammy said. “You can’t join until you pass a test.”

  “Test?” Joe cried. “But it’s Saturday!”

  “We’ll take it,” Frank said quickly. “What do we have to do?”

  A third grader Joe recognized as Cara Lund stepped forward.

  “Just like Nutty, you have to stuff your mouth,” Cara explained, “while answering questions about the show.”

  “With nuts?” Frank asked.

  “Marshmallows,” Cara said. “I’ll ask Mrs. Kernkraut for a bowl.”

  After Cara left the room, Frank said, “Joe will go first. He’s got a big mouth.”

  “Thanks.” Joe smirked.

  “Okay, Joe,” Sammy said, tossing him a gray squirrel hat. “Sit in that chair and get ready.”

  “Sure,” Joe said. He turned to Frank and whispered, “Look around for clues while I take the test.”

  “On it,” Frank whispered back.

  Joe put on the hat. He sat in the chair, rubbed his hands, and said, “I love marshmallows. Bring ’em on!”

  Cara stepped into the room, carrying a bowl. “Your mom was out of marshmallows, Sammy,” she said. “But she had plenty of fresh mushrooms.”

  Mushrooms? The only thing Joe hated more than blueberries was mushrooms.

  Joe gagged several times. He clapped his hand over his mouth to try to keep from hurling.

  “What’s with him?” Sammy demanded.

  “Joe’s being funny!” Frank said quickly. He couldn’t let Joe eat all those mushrooms. He had to think of something—fast!

  Frank made sure there was no TV in the room before saying, “There’s a Nutty the Squirrel special on TV today.”

  “Seriously?” Cara gasped.

  “It’s in 3-D, but you don’t need glasses,” Frank said. He pointed to a Nutty clock on the wall. “And it’s on now!”

  “What are we waiting for?” Sammy asked the others. “Downstairs to the den!”

  In a flash the club was out the door. Joe slumped forward and said, “Thanks, Frank.”

  “Sure,” Frank said. “Now let’s look for clues before they realize there is no show on TV.”

  The first place they looked was Sammy’s desk.

  “There!” Frank said. He pointed to the computer screen. The desktop picture showed the club and someone dressed as Nutty the Squirrel. A banner above them read MEET NUTTY THE SQUIRREL with the date.

  “That’s today’s date,” Joe pointed out.

  “It looks like they were at the arcade,” Frank said. “So that’s what the club did this morning. They met Nutty the Squirrel!”

  Suddenly—

  “There they are!” a voice shouted.

  Frank and Joe turned to see Sammy and the rest of the club at the door. Alongside Sammy was his little sister, Sadie. Her eyes narrowed as she pointed at Frank and Joe.

  “There they are!” Sadie shouted again. “The spies!”

  7

  Zoom and Gloom

  Great,” Joe groaned under his breath. Maybe he should have given Sadie his Green Crawler claw.

  “They were in the park,” Sadie went on. “They were asking me silly questions about the club!”

  “We should have remembered they were detectives,” Sammy told the club.

  “What do
you want from us?” another member asked.

  “We just want to find out who ripped the Green Crawler balloon,” Frank said.

  “What makes you think we ripped the balloon?” Sammy demanded.

  “You didn’t want the Green Crawler balloon in the parade,” Joe explained. “And we saw you guys in the park this morning.”

  “We were walking through the park to get to the arcade,” Sammy explained. “That’s where Nutty was today!”

  “The arcade is only three blocks from this house,” Frank pointed out. “Why did you take the long way through the park?”

  “We wanted to see if the parade was using the Nutty balloon after all,” Cara said. “Too bad they weren’t.”

  Joe took the hat off as he huddled with Frank. He whispered, “We saw the club go over to the balloon. They just looked at it and kept on walking.”

  “Unless they came back,” Frank replied.

  Joe shook his head. “There’s a clock in the picture,” he said. “It was eight o’clock when they posed with Nutty.”

  “We saw the club at about seven forty-five,” Frank said, doing the math. “They would need about fifteen minutes to walk from the park to the arcade—”

  “Quit whispering about us,” Sammy cut in. “And there was no Nutty cartoon on, either. You tricked us!”

  “What do you expect from spies?” Sadie said, crossing her arms.

  “The parade people were blaming Frank and me for ripping the balloon,” Joe said. “We had to do something!”

  “We know you didn’t rip the balloon,” Frank told the club. “Sorry.”

  The club members traded understanding looks.

  “It’s okay,” Sammy said with a shrug. “You were just trying to find the person who really ripped the balloon.”

  “You can still join the club, if you’d like,” Cara said. She picked up the bowl and smiled. “We’ve got plenty of mushrooms!”

  Joe clapped his hand over his mouth. “Frank,” he murmured through his fingers. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Quickly Frank thanked the club, then excused himself and Joe. The brothers raced past Sammy, Sadie, and the rest of the club.

  “You’re greener than the Crawler!” Frank said when they were outside. “Do you want to go home?”

  Joe took a deep breath of fresh air. He shook his head. “I’m okay,” he said. “Just don’t mention . . . you know what.”

  “Hey, Frank, Joe!” someone called.

  The brothers turned to see their friend Phil Cohen. Phil had a knack for inventing all kinds of gadgets. This time he was holding a long rod. At one end was a wheel-shaped handle. At the other end was a metal box with green and red lights.

  “What’s that?” Joe asked.

  “My latest invention,” Phil said as he came closer. “The King of Ka-Ching Coin and Metal Detector!”

  “A metal detector?” Joe repeated.

  “It’s for finding stuff that people dropped,” Phil explained. “Like jewelry, money—maybe buried treasure.”

  “I’ve seen metal detectors before, Phil,” Frank said. “What makes this one so special?”

  “I made it myself!” Phil declared proudly.

  Frank and Joe watched as Phil waved the device over the sidewalk. It began to beep. Phil smiled as he picked up a quarter.

  “See?” Phil said. “It’s already paying off!”

  Frank and Joe watched as Phil continued up the street.

  “What will Phil think of next?” Frank said.

  “Hopefully, a Who Ripped the Balloon gadget,” Joe joked. “We could use one of those right now!”

  Suddenly—ROOOOOOOOOOAARRRRRRRRR!

  What was that? The brothers spun around and gasped. Zooming up the middle of the sidewalk was a red motorbike.

  Frank grabbed his brother’s arm. The motorbike was speeding straight toward them!

  “Joe!” Frank shouted. “Look out!”

  8

  Musical Scares

  Frank and Joe jumped back in the nick of time. They watched the red motorbike zoom by. The driver wore a black helmet and jacket.

  “Jeez, Frank!” Joe cried as the bike careened around the corner. “Who just tried to run us over?”

  “I don’t know,” Frank said. “I couldn’t see the driver’s face under the helmet.”

  “Didn’t we see a red motorbike in the park earlier this morning?” Joe asked. “Maybe it belonged to someone working on the parade.”

  “Why would someone in the parade want to run us over?” Frank asked.

  “Let’s figure that out somewhere else,” Joe said, glancing over his shoulder, “in case that crazy driver decides to come back.”

  The brothers hurried home and straight to their tree house. Joe sat in his favorite beanbag chair, while Frank stood by the dry-erase board.

  “Why?” Frank said, writing the word on the board. “Why would anyone from the parade want to run us over?”

  “Maybe it was a warning,” Joe said. “The driver might have heard us tell Kevin we’d look for the balloon ripper.”

  “Or maybe they read about it!” Frank said.

  “Read about it?” Joe repeated. “What do you mean?”

  “We forgot to erase the six Ws we wrote on the basketball court,” Frank said. “They had the suspects’ names and everything!”

  “How would they know it was us?” Joe asked.

  “There aren’t many ‘detectives’ in town—maybe they heard us when we told Lynn and Kevin we would find the real suspect,” Frank said.

  The brothers had only one suspect left. Frank wrote the name Kit on the board in big letters.

  “Let’s look for Kit now,” Joe said.

  Frank shook his head. “I think we should take a break,” he said. “We’ll look for Kit tomorrow.”

  “But the parade is tomorrow!” Joe exclaimed.

  “It doesn’t start until two o’clock,” Frank said. “That gives us time to question Kit—if we can find her.”

  Joe remembered the laptop they’d brought up to the tree house. He grabbed it and began a search.

  “What are you looking for?” Frank asked.

  “Maybe the Bayport Boomerangs posted their practice schedule,” Joe said. “I still can’t believe we get Wi-Fi up here!”

  Joe found Bayport High School’s website. He clicked on “Bayport Boomerangs” and found their schedule.

  “The Boomerangs have a pre-parade practice tomorrow at eight o’clock!” Joe pointed out.

  “Kit will be there too,” Frank figured. “We’ve got to go to the school tomorrow, Joe.”

  “Okay,” Joe said. “But let’s get someone to drive us there.”

  “How come?” Frank asked.

  “In case Kit brings her motorbike,” Joe replied, and frowned.

  • • •

  Frank and Joe were driven to the high school Sunday morning by their aunt Gertrude.

  Aunt Gertrude lived in the apartment above the Hardys’ garage. She was an early riser, even on Sundays.

  “Thanks again for driving us, Aunt Gertrude,” Frank said.

  “No problem!” Aunt Gertrude said as she drove up to the school. “Bayport High is on the way to my bird-watchers’ club in the park. If we’re lucky, we’ll spot a red-tailed hawk today!”

  Joe leaned over to Frank and whispered, “And if we’re lucky, we’ll spot Kit!”

  Frank and Joe waved good-bye to Aunt Gertrude as she drove off. As the brothers walked toward the school, they checked out the parking lot. No red motorbikes.

  “Unless Kit parks it behind the school,” Frank decided. Then—

  “There she is!” Joe said. He pointed to the football field. The Bayport Boomerangs were marching back and forth. Running alongside them in her band uniform was Kit.

  “Kit won’t talk to us while they’re practicing,” Frank decided. “We’ll have to wait until they’re finished.”

  “Can we wait inside the school?” Joe asked. “I want to see if
there’s a snack machine.”

  “Snack?” Frank cried. “Didn’t we just have breakfast?”

  “That was a whole hour ago, Frank!” Joe said.

  Frank and Joe entered the school through the main door. They headed up a long hallway, looking for a snack machine.

  Glass cases filled with trophies lined one wall. Classrooms took up the other wall. One door was open. Joe peeked inside. He saw a piano, a drum set, and a board covered with musical notes.

  “This must be the music room,” Joe pointed out.

  Frank read the teacher’s name on the door.

  “This is Kit’s classroom,” Frank declared. “Let’s go inside and look for clues.”

  The brothers slipped into the room. Kit’s desk stood in front of the board. The desk and chair were covered with loose papers and sheet music.

  “This is messier than my room!” Joe declared.

  “Don’t touch anything,” Frank whispered. “Just look!”

  But as Frank and Joe neared the desk, they heard a voice out in the hall. The brothers froze in their tracks.

  “That’s Kit!” Joe hissed.

  “She can’t find us snooping in here,” Frank whispered. “We have to hide!”

  9

  Buried Treasure

  There!” Joe said, pointing to the drums.

  Frank and Joe ducked behind the drum set. They held their breath as Kit entered the classroom.

  “That’s right, Sal,” Kit was saying. “I didn’t think we could do it, but we did.”

  Frank and Joe peeked over the drums. Kit was at her desk, talking on her cell phone.

  “We took care of the Green Crawler,” Kit said, chuckling. “Now let’s see who the star of the parade will be!”

  Joe’s mouth dropped open. He turned to Frank and whispered, “Did you hear that?” He pointed back at Kit. “Kit just confessed. She—”

  CRASH!

  Joe’s arm knocked a cymbal off the drum set and onto the floor. The brothers cringed as it rattled loudly across the tile.

  Frank and Joe crouched, as still as statues—until Kit shouted, “Who’s there?”

  The brothers peeked out again. Kit was coming toward the drum set.

  “Hey,” Kit said, narrowing her eyes. “Aren’t you the kids who were kicked out of the parade yesterday?”