Joe Hardy took his blue eyes off the road briefly to push a blond curl of hair out of his eye causing the van to lurch crazily across the freeway.

"Watch out," his eighteen-year-old brother, Frank, complained, throwing Joe an annoyed glance with his brown eyes as he steadied his laptop

Joe, a year younger, grimaced, and put his attention back on the road. "Sorry." When he pulled the van onto their street, they saw a strange car parked in the driveway.

"I wonder who that can be?" Joe asked, pulling to a stop beside it and shutting of the engine.

Frank shrugged. "Maybe a new client for dad," he suggested as both boys got out the van.

Taller than Joe's six foot by an inch, Frank was also the leaner of the two brothers but both of them were on the high school baseball team - Frank as a Catcher and first baseman, and Joe as a Pitcher- and both were athletic equals in the sport.

"Good pitching today," Frank said, following his brother into the house.

"Thanks, you did a good job catching that one headed out of the park. If Mike had gotten it past you, it would have been a triple homerun for his team," Joe replied, although he kept on his course without turning around. He headed straight for the kitchen, and Frank couldn't keep from grinning. The only thing on Joe's mind now was food, although he had to admit he was hungry himself after four hours of baseball. Their mum was in the kitchen.

"Who's that visiting?" Frank asked his mother, while Joe investigated what was cooking.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Their tall, angular Aunt Gertrude strode into the room, answering the question instead.

"Well?"

"I'm just being curious, Aunt Gertrude," Frank replied. His aunt raised her eyebrow, before relaxing her expression.

"In fact it's a friend of your father's," she replied. "The Dean of the University. But don't ask me why he's here," she went on, seeing the question forming on Frank's lips. Joe exchanged looks with Frank, and the brothers headed out of the kitchen.

"Get away from there," fussed blond headed Laura Hardy as she caught her youngest son reaching for the cookie jar on his way out. "Dinner will be ready in half an hour."

"What are we having?" Frank asked, glancing over at his blue eyed mother as she gave Joe the evil eye.

"I'm making homemade lasagna," she informed him. "It's your father's favorite."

"Is Dad's visitor staying for dinner?" Joe asked.

"He is," replied Aunt Gertrude, turning her stern green-eyed gaze onto him. "Now go wash up and meet our guest before dinner," she ordered.

"Yes'm," Joe responded meekly, giving Frank a sly glance. They both knew their aunt's gruff demeanor was all an act. They hurried upstairs to do as they had been bid.

***

"Boys, I'd like you to meet Professor Ravelson. He's the Dean of Bayport University," said Fenton Hardy when a freshly showered Frank and Joe made their way into the living room twenty minutes later.

"Pleased to meet you sir," Frank replied, shaking hands. Joe did the same. The professor was distinguished looking, - and - Frank guessed - in his mid to late 50's. He had dark eyes and graying hair, but a pleasant smile.

"Oh, no need for such formality Fenton," the Dean replied, addressing their father. Fenton Hardy was a famous private investigator - and an ex New York Cop. Fenton had been on the New York force for several years before leaving the city and bringing his family to Bayport, where they now lived. At just six feet, Fenton was a little shorter than his eldest son but had his coloring.

"Yes," Professor Ravelson continued, this time to Frank and Joe, "just call me John."

At that moment, their mom came into the room, with another guest.

"Ah-hah, Robert!" Dean Ravelson exclaimed. "I'm glad you could make it!"

"Of course John, my pleasure." This new man turned to Fenton and Laura, his thinning black hair mussed as if the wind had blown it around. Impossible the boys knew because it was a calm evening.

"And thank you to our gracious hosts for inviting us," he said, shaking hands with the detective, and kissing Laura on the cheek.

"These are my sons," Fenton introduced the boys, "Frank - and Joe."

The newcomer almost launched himself at the two boys. "Delighted," he said, his dark blue eyes twinkling. Joe thought he could make-out a foreign accent, but he couldn't guess where from.

"Robert Aliem," he said, vigorously pumping Joe's hand, then doing the same to Frank. After that, he abruptly turned, and walked back to Fenton and John.

"What a strange guy," Joe whispered to Frank. "Foreign sounding too."

"Yes," Frank agreed. "Spanish, I think."

"Now," Fenton said, once they were all seated. "John, you must tell us what brings you here tonight."

"Very well," Professor Ravelson replied. "I've brought Robert along to tell you the story himself, but the short version is somebody's been stealing his research!"

"You see," Robert interrupted carefully, "I have been given a grant to do research concerning the theory of plate tectonics here on the East Coast. While doing research, we, my two assistants, and I came across a large concentration of natural gas. My lab is in Bayport University and doubles as a classroom for the classes I teach there," he broke off briefly to explain. "I keep all my research on the premises. Recently, I noticed some of my research was missing. Now, this information was nothing that could not be gathered again, however, I must produce the information I have gathered so far in order to warrant further extending my grant.

"You see, most of the dynamic tectonic activity takes place on the pacific coast, however, my research has led me to believe that the East Coast has the potential for activity that could be devastating," Robert continued.

"But why would anyone want to steal that type of research?" Joe queried.

"I'm sure I don't know," Robert answered. "But perhaps the real goal of the thief was to take the location of the natural gas pocket?" he theorized.

"Because if there is a pocket then there could be oil underneath," Frank deduced, knowing that natural gas was commonly found above an oil deposit.

"Entirely plausible," Robert agreed. "I had two lab assistants; both of them devoted to the project, until recently."



"Recently?" Fenton pushed.

"Well, you see, Fridays are our field days. We go out, do the actual labor for the project, then return to the lab and work on the reports. Last Saturday, Craig and Angela were supposed to have completed their reports for the project and be ready to begin something new, but Craig never showed up. When I questioned Angela about the matter, she quit."

"This happened yesterday?" Joe inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

"No," Aliem corrected. "This occurred last weekend."

"I had the university's police force search for Craig, but he isn't to be found," John put in. "His apartment shows no evidence that he planned on leaving. All of his things are still there but he hasn't been to any classes."

"Have you tried to contact his family?" Frank inquired.

"We have, but there have been no answers to my calls and as yet, my letter has gone unanswered," the dean said.

"And you want dad to find Craig and find out who took your research?" Joe guessed, looking at Aliem.

"Exactly," agreed Robert. "Perhaps you and your brother would care to help? I mean, you are closer in age to my two assistants and could perhaps get closer to Angela and Craig's friends."

"We'd be glad to help," Frank answered for himself and Joe.

"Wonderful!" enthused the dean. "I was kind of hoping you would say that." He reached into his pants pocket and extracted two sets of keys. Each set held four keys. He handed a set to Fenton and one to Frank. These keys will get you into the science department, Robert's lab and the supply closet. The other key is for the emergency exits that can only be opened from the inside without a key."

"Thanks," Frank and Fenton acknowledged their receipt.

"Perhaps Joe and I could go and check out the lab tonight after we finish dinner?" Frank suggested.

"I leave the matter entirely in your capable hands," Robert replied. "Just be sure to relock the lab once you leave."

***

Two hours later, Frank and Joe entered the science building. "Uh-oh," Frank murmured. "No sign saying which office belongs to Professor Aliem."

Joe shrugged. "We'll just have to look on the doors then. Could take awhile considering the size of this place."

Frank nodded. "I'll look down here and you check the second floor," Frank instructed Joe. "We'll meet at the steps in thirty minutes. If we haven't found it, we'll take the next two floors."

Joe went upstairs and began checking names on the doors. He arrived at one that was open and although it wasn't Professor Aliem's lab, his curiosity got the better of him and he went inside.

"Hello?" Joe called out in a loud whisper as he entered the room. "Is anyone here?" He looked around the room that had only two above head fluorescent lights going over in the corner of the room.

Hearing no reply, he wandered over to the corner and glanced at the desk which had some papers laid out with a few pictures of wolves. Joe started and turned as he heard a scrapping noise from a crate. Joe moved closer.

It wasn't just a crate, Joe realized. It was a cage with a crate inside it! He reached out and put his hand on the edge of the cage.

At once the sound of stressed wood was heard and the board snapped where Joe's hand was. He felt a sharp pain and snatched his hand back in surprise.

A gruff voice assaulted Joe as the room was at once bathed in light. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" shouted a large irate man entering the room.