The Deadliest Dare

by Franklin W. Dixon

  "I thought you were the guy who said we should ram him."

  "That was when we didn't have any other chance of stopping him."

  "We still don't," Frank pointed out. "Besides, I don't intend to crash into him — just slow him down so the Harbor Police can cut him off."

  "Then watch your driving, " Joe said, "because it doesn't look like Branders is backing off."

  Curt Branders hadn't deviated an inch from his course. Frank, Joe, and Kevin stared nervously as his running lights came closer and closer.

  "I don't think this is going to work," Joe said quietly. "Get ready to sheer off — "

  His words were cut off by a bright flash ahead of them.

  A sheet of flames marched across Curt Branders's launch, lighting up the water all around. Flaming fireballs started climbing up into the night.

  "He's still a mile from the Golden Fleece," said Joe. "What's he doing?"

  "I don't think Curt planned this," observed Frank.

  The launch was blazing, spewing flame and smoke. It was going off course, starting to zigzag.

  "The broken engine," said Kevin. "A spark or something must've set the gasoline on fire too soon." They could hardly see the launch anymore. It had become a mass of fire, almost too bright to look at, staggering and lurching through the darkness.

  Then there came a deafening explosion.

  A cloud of roaring flame flew up across the bay. Smoke tumbled out across the bay and bright tongues of flame walked on the water.

  Slowly it sank, sputtered, and was gone. The night came closing in and swallowed the last of it up.

  "My brother." Kevin's voice was choked. "My brother. He's dead."

  "He could have jumped." Frank turned the wheel. "We'll look for him."

  "He's dead." Kevin slumped in the seat.

  They circled the area, circled it twice, and then once again.

  They never found him.

  ***

  More and more people kept coming out on the yacht club dock, most of them in uniform. Floodlights had been set up, police cars, two ambulances, and a fire truck were parked just on the other side of the cyclone fence.

  A Harbor Police launch patrolled just off the piers, and a helicopter was chuffing around up in the sooty sky, splashing its spotlight down on the water. Two different television crews were wandering around, poking their cameras and mikes into various groups and even into some shadowy corners.

  "I expected this," Con Riley was saying to Frank. They stood in the small guard shack by the gate. Joe, still damp, stood by a tiny space heater. Kevin Branders was sitting outside in a police car.

  "When I got the call that yanked me out of a pleasant slumber, I suspected at once that it had something to do with you Hardys." Con gave them a sour look. "Then, when I was informed that there was all kinds of trouble here at the yacht harbor, I was certain."

  Frank stepped aside from the door as a paramedic came in to check over Joe. "All things considered," he told Frank, "there wasn't that much damage. And nobody — well, hardly anybody—got killed."

  "Hardly anybody, huh?" growled Riley. "I'd look great saying something like that on the news tonight. 'Nothing to worry about, folks, since hardly anybody got killed.' Hooey."

  "The point is, Gramatkee is alive." "We've put him in that ambulance over there." Riley pointed a thumb in that direction. "He's still unconscious, but they tell me it's just a mild concussion."

  "That's a whole lot better than being dead."

  Con gave Frank a sharp look. "And you're sure that's what this is all about?"

  Nodding, Frank said, "Curt Branders was hired to kill him. Fortunately, he failed."

  "All on account of you guys?"

  "We did sort of throw a glitch or two into his plans."

  "While you were winding up to throw those glitches, I suppose it never occurred to you to pick up the phone and let me know?"

  "There just wasn't time, Con."

  "What about that kidnapped girl? Where has Branders got her stashed?"

  "She's okay now. Joe found her and brought her home. She's with our aunt Gertrude at the moment."

  Riley gave him a mirthless smile. "There wasn't time to tell me about that, either?"

  "No, there wasn't." Frank again looked toward his brother, asking the white-coated medic, "How's he doing?"

  "He seems to be in pretty good shape," he answered, "but I'd advise you to take him to the hospital for a more thorough checkup. Being immersed in the bay can have all sorts of side effects."

  "I'm okay," insisted Joe. "I'm fine."

  Con Riley asked Frank, "What about Kevin Branders — whose side is he on?"

  Frank frowned, considering. "He's on ours now," he replied finally. "And I'm sure he never knew what his brother was really here to do. But he was involved with the pranks and the vandalism."

  "Well, he told me about that old barn where we nabbed his brother's two goons. I'm sure he'll have a lot more to tell me down at the station."

  "Keep in mind that he saved my brother's life."

  "I will," said the police officer. "Now, where does your friend Biff Hooper fit in?"

  "He was a reluctant practical joker," said Frank. "But he also saved Gramatkee's life and mine."

  Riley grunted. "I should have brought some medals and trophies along with me tonight, according to you," he said. "Here I thought I was going to nab some burglars and arsonists, but you claim I'm surrounded with heroes."

  "What I'm trying to get across to you, Con, is that both Biff and Kevin did some things that were wrong," said Frank. "But they both tried to make up for that. I don't know how the law will look at any of that."

  "Between that and the fact that they're kids, they may be lucky and get off fairly lightly," Riley said, shaking his head. "As for our rich young arsonists and so forth, I foresee fines— lots of money going out in damages—and certainly some community service."

  He grinned evilly. "Maybe they'll put them to work cleaning the gym and fixing up the Hickerson Mansion. There's nothing wrong with those rich kids that a little honest sweat wouldn't cure."

  Riley's face changed as he brought up the final piece of unfinished business. "You searched for Curt Branders?"

  "Yes, for quite a while," answered Frank. "We never found a trace."

  "Did you actually see him on the launch once it had started burning?"

  "I can't be certain. It caught fire incredibly fast. And after that, we couldn't make out anything."

  "Is it possible he jumped clear?"

  "He could have. It's a hard one to call."

  Riley nodded over at Joe. "All right, you'd better haul him off to the hospital," he told Frank. "I'll want to get statements from the both of you tomorrow."

  "Okay, Con." Frank went over to his brother. "Let's get you over to the hospital."

  "I really don't think that's necessary," Joe protested.

  "Fine, if you want Aunt Gertrude fussing over you," said Frank.

  Joe gave his brother a dirty look as he thought over the alternatives. Then he sighed. "Okay," he said. "The hospital it is."

  The End.