Trouble at the Arcade

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Trouble at the Arcade Page 1

by Franklin W. Dixon




  THE HARDY BOYS®

  SECRET FILES #1

  Trouble at the Arcade

  BY FRANKLIN W. DIXON

  ILLUSTRATED BY SCOTT BURROUGHS

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  First Aladdin paperback edition April 2010

  Text copyright © 2010 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  Illustrations copyright © 2010 by Scott Burroughs

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  ALADDIN is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and related logo is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  THE HARDY BOYS is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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  Designed by Lisa Vega

  The text of this book was set in Garamond.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  0310 OFF

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Library of Congress Control Number 2009932648

  ISBN 978-1-4169-9164-9

  ISBN 978-1-4169-9922-5 (eBook)

  Contents

  1 Alien Attack!

  2 Fun World

  3 A Major Score

  4 Who’s the Thief?

  5 A Big Threat

  6 A Real Mystery

  7 Who, What, When . . .

  8 A New Suspect

  9 Lost and Found

  10 Secret File #1: Solved!

  1

  Alien Attack!

  All humans will be destroyed!” a metallic voice rang out.

  Nine-year-old Frank Hardy gasped as yet another row of hideous aliens appeared over the horizon. There was no question about it. Earth was being invaded!

  “Ha!” he shouted, and his dark hair fell in his eyes as he dodged a laser blast by doing a somersault through the air. Then he ducked around a huge pile of rocks.

  Oh no! There were more aliens behind the rock pile. And these were even worse. They were spitting horrible blue goo!

  BLURP! A wad of goo came flying at Frank.

  He jumped up and did a flip in midair to avoid the goo. Then he karate-kicked a rock. It crashed down on one of the aliens.

  SPLAT! Blue goo spurted everywhere.

  “Gotcha!” Frank cried.

  “Frank! Are you up there?”

  For a second Frank thought one of the aliens was calling him. Then he realized it wasn’t an alien. It was his mother. He blinked and looked up from the video game console.

  BLURP! On the screen, the aliens were still coming. A few seconds later a big blob of goo took over the screen, and then two words appeared:

  “Rats,” Frank muttered. “I’ll never be ready for the contest if I don’t do better than that.”

  His mother called his name again. He set down the controls and walked out to the top of the stairs to see what she wanted.

  “Oh, there you are.” Mrs. Hardy was holding a large spoon in one hand and a book in the other. She was a librarian, and she almost always had a book with her. “It’s Joe’s turn to set the table for dinner,” she said. “But I can’t find him anywhere. Have you seen him?”

  “Nope.” Frank started down the stairs. “But don’t worry. I’ll find him.”

  He went out the back door and crossed the lawn, heading toward the woods at the back of the yard. Before he got there, he looked around carefully.

  There were hedges on both sides of the yard, so none of the neighbors could see him. The sound of hammering was coming from the spare room over the garage. Mr. Hardy had been working up there for weeks during his free time. But Frank couldn’t see his father through the window, so he guessed his father couldn’t see him, either.

  Frank ducked into a narrow path between two bushes. It looked like a trail that nothing but a deer or a rabbit would use. But it actually led straight to the tree house Frank and his younger brother Joe had helped their parents build in the woods. No one except the two of them (and their parents) knew the tree house was there.

  The tree house was halfway up a huge old maple tree. Frank and Joe had painted the bottom of the platform green and brown. That way, even if someone walked right past, they probably wouldn’t notice it.

  At least not most of the time. Right now anyone passing by would definitely see it. That was because Joe had left the ladder hanging down.

  The ladder was made out of rope and planks. It had a pulley system so the boys could keep it rolled up out of sight whether they were in the tree house or not.

  Frank grabbed the ladder and started to climb. Soon he was peering into the tree house. It was one big room inside. The back wall was the trunk of the tree, and the front wall had the door and a window cut out of it. One of the side walls was covered with posters from martial arts and monster movies, and the other had a dry-erase whiteboard where the brothers could leave notes for each other. There was no real furniture, but there were some cushions to make sitting on the floor more comfortable.

  Eight-year-old Joe Hardy was sitting on one of the floor cushions, reading comic books. His dirty-blond hair was sticking up in one place like he hadn’t brushed it when he’d gotten out of bed. “Hi,” he said when Frank climbed in. “What’s up?”

  “You forgot to pull up the ladder,” said Frank. “Are you crazy? We don’t want Adam to find this place.”

  Adam Ackerman lived on the other side of the woods. He was in Frank’s class at school and was known as the meanest bully in Bayport.

  Joe just shrugged. “Well, he didn’t find it, did he?”

  Frank frowned. Joe was always saying stuff like that.

  “Mom’s looking for you,” he said. “It’s your turn to set the table.”

  “Okay.” Joe tossed the comic book he was reading into the messy pile beside him. Then the two boys climbed back down the ladder and used the pulley to lift it back out of sight.

  “What were you doing out here, anyway?” Frank asked as they pushed their way out of the woods. “You should be practicing for the video game tournament tomorrow. Otherwise you’ll never make it past the first round.”

  That was why Frank had been playing Alien Blob Blaster. The tournament was being held at the grand reopening of the arcade at Bayport Fun World. The grand prize was a brand-new superdeluxe game system.

  “Who needs practice when you have natural talent?” Joe bragged. “I’m not only planning to make the finals—I’m planning to win!”

  “Don’t be so sure,” said Frank. “That VidPoint 3000 game is way better than the one we have. Tons of people will be there trying to win it. That’s why you need to practice. With both of us entering, we’ll have twice the chance of winning.”

  “We?” Joe echoed with a grin. “W
ho says I’m going to share when I win that game?”

  Frank rolled his eyes. “What choice do you have? We share a room, remember?”

  “Maybe not for long.” Joe looked toward the garage. The sound of hammering was still coming from that direction. “Dad’s almost finished fixing up the spare room. And you know what that means!”

  “No. What?”

  “Duh!” said Joe. “It means we’ll finally get our own bedrooms!”

  Frank cast a dubious look at the garage. “I doubt it,” he said. “The spare room is practically a whole separate apartment from the rest of the house. Mom and Dad aren’t going to let either of us live out there.”

  “If you’re so sure, I guess that means you don’t mind if I’m the one who moves out there,” Joe said. “Cool. You can keep our tiny old room. You can even have both bunk beds all to yourself. I’ll just fill up all the space in my brand-new room with my brand-new VidPoint 3000.”

  “Dream on,” Frank said. “I’ve been practicing all week for that contest. You’ll be sorry you didn’t want to share when I win that game system.”

  They were almost at the back door by now. Joe stopped and grinned at his brother. “If you’re so sure you can beat me, why don’t we make a bet?” he said. “Whichever one of us wins that contest gets to move into the spare room—with the 3000 all to himself.”

  Frank could tell that Joe was sure he was going to win. That made him kind of mad.

  “You’re on,” he said. “It’s a bet!”

  2

  Fun World

  I’ll probably get the highest score ever today,” Joe bragged. He leaned forward as far as his seat belt would let him, trying to see out the front window of his father’s car. He was eager to catch his first glimpse of Fun World. It was the day of the video game tournament, and he couldn’t wait!

  Frank was sitting beside him. “Don’t count on it,” he said. “I practiced all week. I’ll probably break the world record.”

  “Only until I take my turn and beat your sorry score!” Joe shot back.

  “All right, boys, that’s enough.” Fenton Hardy looked at them in the rearview mirror. “It’s fine to want to do your best and win. But you don’t have to insult each other.”

  “Sorry, Dad,” said Frank.

  Joe shrugged. “He started it.”

  Their father sighed. He’d just stopped at a red light, so he turned around to look at them this time. “What’s gotten into you two?”

  Joe shot Frank a warning look. Their parents didn’t know about the boys’ bet for the spare room. And Joe wanted to keep it that way. He was afraid Frank might spill his guts, though. He always wanted to tell adults everything.

  But this time he kept quiet, and so did Joe. The light turned green, and Mr. Hardy drove on.

  “Anyway, don’t forget that you’re brothers,” he said. “You’re supposed to be a team. You’ll always have a better chance if you work together instead of against each other.”

  “I guess,” Frank said. He didn’t sound too sure.

  “It’s just like my work with the police department,” Mr. Hardy went on. “I have my strengths and skills, and so do they. That’s why we all work as a team to stop criminals.”

  Mr. Hardy was a private investigator. He’d solved all kinds of crimes in Bayport and beyond, and he worked with the police a lot. Still, Joe didn’t see what that had to do with him and Frank.

  By now they were pulling into the Fun World parking lot. Mr. Hardy drove past the mini-golf course and batting cages and stopped in front of the entrance to the arcade.

  “Here we are,” he said. “Call when you need a ride home. Have fun, guys—and remember, you’re a team!”

  “Sure, Dad,” Frank said. “Thanks for the ride.”

  The arcade entrance was a big glass door with a blinking sign over it. A skinny teenage boy was sitting by the table just inside. There was a rickety-looking wooden box beside him with cash in it, and also a huge roll of tickets. A door off to one side opened into a hallway that led to the main part of the arcade.

  “Welcome to Fun World,” the teenager said.

  Joe recognized him. His name was Darryl, and his dad owned Fun World. The whole family lived just a couple of blocks from the Hardys. Darryl’s dad called himself Mr. Fun, but his real name was Mr. Moore.

  “Hi,” said Frank. “We’re here to enter the contest.”

  “You need to buy some of these.” Darryl grabbed the roll of tickets. “You use them to play the games, and if you get a good enough score, the machines give you more tickets back. You can trade the tickets for prizes or food inside, or just keep playing more games with them.”

  “Cool!” Joe said. “I’ll take five dollars’ worth.” He pulled a five-dollar bill out of his pocket and tossed it into the cash box. “Of course, I probably won’t need that many once I start racking up high scores.”

  “Sure,” muttered Darryl, still sounding bored. “Here are your tickets.”

  The arcade was already crowded when Frank and Joe went in. It was divided into several huge rooms with archways in between. Signs pointed to the Prize Pavilion up front and the Snack Shack at the back. There were also signs about the tournament.

  “The seven-to-nine age group is over there,” Frank read. “That’s us. Come on!”

  They hurried over and got in line. A few people they knew were already there waiting.

  “Hi, Hardys!” someone called. It was their friend Iola from school. “Look, Chet’s taking his turn right now.” She pointed to the Alien Blob Blaster game at the head of the line.

  Chet Morton was Iola’s brother. He was also a good friend of both Hardy brothers. “Go, Chetster!” Joe yelled.

  “Shh,” warned Frank. “You’ll distract him.”

  A moment later the game was over. Chet turned around with a big grin on his moon-shaped face.

  “Yo!” he cried. “Beat that score, everyone!”

  He was only joking. His score was terrible.

  There was a teenage attendant keeping track of the scores. He looked much more cheerful than Darryl Moore. “Don’t forget your prize tickets,” he said. “Um, I mean ticket.”

  The machine had just spit out a single ticket. Chet shrugged and grabbed it. “One’s better than none, right?” he joked.

  Next a girl stepped up to the game. “Who’s that?” Joe wondered.

  “She’s in my class,” Frank said. “She’s new. I forget her name.”

  Iola heard him and turned around again. “It’s Callie,” she said. “Her family just moved to Bayport. She’s really nice.”

  Joe didn’t care how nice the new girl was. He only cared about her score. When she finished her turn, a whole bunch of tickets spit out of the machine.

  “Good going!” the attendant said after he checked the results. “You’re in second place!”

  “Congratulations,” Frank said to Callie as she walked by.

  “Thanks,” she responded in a quiet voice.

  “Yeah, pretty good job,” said Joe. “But don’t get too excited about it. I’m going to double your score!”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Frank told her. “I’m the one who’s going to win today.”

  Up ahead, Adam Ackerman was taking his place at the game. “Ugh,” Joe whispered to Frank. “I didn’t know he was here.”

  Adam was at the game for a long time. When he finally finished, he was grinning. “Beat that score!” he bragged.

  Unlike Chet, he wasn’t joking. Adam’s score was really high.

  The attendant looked at it. Then he checked his list. “Congratulations,” he told Adam. “You have the high score of the day so far!”

  3

  A Major Score

  Frank stared at Adam’s name. The attendant had just written it in big letters at the top of the high-scores list.

  “This stinks,” Joe whispered. “It means rotten Adam will definitely be in the finals.”

  “I know.” Frank watched as a whole line of
tickets poured out of the machine. The higher your score, the more tickets you got. And Adam was getting a lot of tickets.

  Adam smirked as he grabbed the tickets and stuck them in his pocket. “Wow,” he said loudly. “I hope I can figure out how to spend all these tickets! I’ll probably have to buy out the whole prize counter!”

  Chet wandered over to where the Hardys were standing. “Can you believe Adam’s winning?” he whispered, looking nervous. Adam picked on him a lot. “This is going to make him brag even more than he already does.”

  “I know.” Frank watched a kid from another school take his place at the machine. “I hope someone beats his score soon.”

  “Yeah,” Joe agreed. “That’ll wipe the stupid smile off his face.”

  But the next three or four people fell short. Each time the attendant announced the score, Adam looked even more smug.

  Finally he yawned loudly. “This is getting boring,” he announced. “I think I’ll go trade a couple of my tickets for a soda. Call me when it’s time for me to come back and win the finals.”

  Joe gritted his teeth. “We have to beat him!” he growled.

  “We?” Frank echoed. “I thought we weren’t working together.”

  “Hey, Iola’s next,” said Chet, elbowing Frank in the side. “She’s awesome at this game. She always beats me.”

  “That’s not saying much,” Joe said with a grin.

  Chet laughed. “I know,” he admitted. “But she’s really good. You’ll see.”

  They all turned to watch. Chet was right. His sister was really good. But finally Iola got creamed by a purple blob monster in level six. That meant she was twenty points short of Adam’s score.

  “Great job. You’re in second place,” the attendant said. He wrote Iola’s name on the high-scores list right below Adam’s.

  “At least she’ll be in the finals,” Chet said.

  Frank nodded. “Maybe she’ll beat Adam then.”

  “Chet! Iola! Where are you?” Mimi Morton yelled as she came running in. Mimi was Chet and Iola’s four-year-old sister. She had a round face, blond hair, freckles like Chet, and bright green eyes like Iola.

 

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