Chapter 11
"I got us into this mess, it's only fair that I go." Joe rose to his feet and waltzed over to a window. He reached for the latch. Keep talking, he mouthed the words to his brother.
Frank got the message, "I should go. I'm the oldest, not to mention I keep a cooler head when it comes to these sorts of things."
"Age has nothing to do with it!" Though his tone sounded harsh, Joe wasn't even angry. He grinned as the window began to creep upward.
"But what about your ankle? I saw you limping. You're in no condition to travel!" Frank stealthily rose from his place on the sofa and joined his brother at the window.
"I've been in worse situations before!" Joe yelled back masking the sound as Frank ripped the screen from the window frame.
"Joe, calm down!" It took Frank almost all his strength to keep from laughing. This was working out perfectly! Perhaps Joe and I should consider acting, Frank thought to himself.
Joe took a few dramatic breaths, "Fine. How do you propose we settle this civilly?" He clasped the window at the top and slipped out.
"We'll flip a coin. Your call."
"Heads!" Joe threw his voice so it would appear that he were still inside.
Frank tossed the quarter he had removed from his pocket. Letting it hit the floor, "Tails, I win."
Frank slipped through the window and followed his younger brother as they crawled, on their stomachs, through the underbrush carrying themselves farther and farther from the mansion.
By the time they had reached the front gate the two boys were exhausted.
Hidden from view, Frank took a quick glance at his watch. Seven thirty-two. Their five minutes were long from over. Frank couldn't help but grin thinking about the smugglers, returning to the room and finding it empty, with only a lone shining quarter on the floor.
"Frank," Joe whispered so quietly Frank had hardly heard him.
"Hmm?"
"How do you propose we get past these bozos?"
Frank knew immediately of whom Joe was referring. Two muscular guards were stationed at either side of the estate's entrance. He searched for things they could use to their advantage.
He saw a wheelbarrow and tarp sitting up against a tree about two yards away. He quietly composed his plan of action.
"Alright, Joe. Here's what we'll do…"
……
A young boy in tattered clothing approached the gate. His messy brown hair stuck out at odd ankles and his dirty white T-shirt looked rugged and worn. He was pushing a wheelbarrow containing, the guards didn't know what. It was covered with a black tarp.
"Sorry sir, you can't come through here." A guard stepped forward, blocking the boy's way.
"But the boss told me to bring this cargo out to the ship." The boys voice was gruff and angry. The guards didn't know what to think, so they let him through.
They watched as the man traveled down the dirt trail into the dense woods and toward the docks. They continued to watch him until he disappeared from sight.
"Strange." Said the first guard after a moment's silence, "That kid looked a lot like Frank Hardy…"
……
Joe leapt out of the wheelbarrow, giving his brother a high five. "Great work, Frank!"
Frank grinned, "I knew it would work." He said in the same gravely tone.
Joe playfully punched him in the arm.
"But we're not out of the woods yet." Frank reminded him, "We've still got to get back to the mainland and contact the authorities so that they can retrieve the others."
After a large bit of thought, Frank and Joe had decided they would be more successful in escaping alone and bringing back help.
"Wonderful plan."
The two brothers spun around to find themselves looking down the barrel of a gun.
"It's too bad you won't ever tell the police."