Frank Hardy was once again facing an opponent in one his and his brother's many cases, and as usual, it was proving to be a highly stubborn adversary. "Prove it!" came the predictable demand from the accused.
The elder Hardy boy spoke calmly and rationally, a trait he had exhibited when necessary since the age of seven or so. "Okay," he said. "I will." He began to explain, holding up his hand, putting a finger down every time he made a point.
A month before, the sixth grade students of Bayport Elementary had gotten the opportunity to go to camp for the weekend before school let out, a camp that included things like confidence courses, tales around the campfire, and the like. The idea was to help teach kids to work together, to be self-reliant, and to boost confidence. Obviously, the children needed money and a permission slip.
One student's family was not as well off as most of the others, and her parents had had to save for a good many months for the girl to be able to go. They had sent a money order and the permission slip with the girl the day of the deadline, in a sealed envelope, to turn into the teacher. This envelope had turned up missing.
Kaitlyn, the girl whose envelope had gone missing, burst into tears when she found out. She looked everywhere for the envelope, and even went to the teachers for help. They helped her look, of course, even called home to see if she had left it there, but it was to no avail. The teachers suspected it might have been stolen, or at the very least dropped and picked up by someone who did not turn it in. Which, if one thought about it, were very nearly the same thing.
As the day closed, Kaitlyn sought out eleven year old Frank Hardy among the students filing outside to be picked up by parents or busses. Frank was outside with his brother, for the boys always walked home, but both stopped as Kaitlyn called Frank's name.
When she told them what happened, Frank frowned a bit. "I heard," Frank said. "Did they find out what happened to it?"
Kaitlyn shook her head, sniffling a little bit. Her eyes were red, and it was clear that she had cried a good deal that day. "And if I can't find it, I can't go." She wiped her eyes. "You guys are good at solving mysteries, could you try and find out who took it?" The boys had a reputation, mostly among the youth of the school and the neighborhood, of being able to solve just about any case that cropped up. Missing pets, pranksters, people who cheated on tests... They obviously showed the skill to follow in their father's footsteps.
Frank nodded his head. "Sure," he said to her. "Are you sure that it was stolen, and not just lost?"
The girl nodded her head. "Yeah, the teachers went over it with me, even called my mom and dad to see if I left it home; they're gonna be mad, I just know it!"
"Aw, your parents are nice," said Frank. "I bet they won't be mad, not at you, anyway. Okay. Tell me what you did when your parents gave you the envelope."
Kaitlyn nodded, looking a bit more hopeful, as she began telling Frank about everything she had done that day. She detailed everything, including what pocket of the bookbag she had put the envelope in. "I was so excited about it," she said, clenching her teeth. It was clear she was trying not to cry again. "I didn't think I was gonna be able to go, but my mom and dad surprised me, said they'd saved up for it. And now someone took it!"
Frank was silent for a moment, while Joe fidgeted. It was always like that when the boys solved mysteries. Joe would be eager to get right in and start getting things done, while Frank would sit and think about it for forever, trying to puzzle it out before they acted. It seemed a strange mix of methods, but for the boys, it worked. "How do you know someone took it?" he asked finally.
"Well..." Kaitlyn hesitated, and took a big breath. "I guess I don't, for sure, but my bag was opened when I got back to it."
"Is that when you found it gone?"
Kaitlyn shook her head. "No, not yet. It was when the teacher wanted us to go get them to turn them in. It wasn't in the pocket I put it in. It wasn't in any pockets, or in my clothes pockets, or -" She was getting upset again, and broke off, clenching her hands in helpless frustration. "And even if I do find it, today was the deadline!"
Joe frowned slightly. "I bet if you could find it, they'd let you turn it in a little late," he said, but he didn't sound all that certain.
"Okay," said Frank, looking determined. "So you only left the bag once, and that was while you played in the playground before the school opened," he said, to clarify. "Who else was there?"
"Not many," Kaitlyn sniffed. She rubbed her eyes, and took a big breath. In the hot, late-spring afternoon, the school was rapidly becoming deserted as the children rushed home. A few of the kids gave the little group strange looks as they passed, but otherwise they were not bothered.
"Do you remmeber names?" Franks asked patiently.
"Some. There were a bunch of first and second-graders, and I don't know any of them except my sister. She was there. Only a few from our grade were there, though. Sally Martin, um...Tucker and Miller Graystin were there." She looked up at the brilliant blue of the pre-summer sky as she thought. "And besides me, the only other ones were Julie Sinter, and Colin Grant."
"Colin Grant?" Joe burst out. "I bet you anything he did it, he's such a jerk!"
Frank shot his brother a look. "Say it louder, why don't you?"
Joe stuck his tongue out. "So what? It's not like he can hear me," he said. Frank sure could be a crab sometimes!
"Still. We can't tell the teacher without some proof, anyways."
Frank was about to say something else, but Kaitlyn spoke up. "Hey, you know he wasn't there at first, either. He usually gets there early, 'cuz his mom has to go to work early. But he didn't come onto the swings an' stuff until later."
"Did he say why?" Frank asked. Kaitlyn shook her head.
"Let's ask the other kids," Joe said excitedly. "I bet one of them saw Colin take it. Or whoever," he added before Frank could lecture him on proof.
"That's a good idea," said Frank. "We can do that tomorrow before school. We can also talk to the teachers about it, see if they could maybe let you turn it in late if we find it."
Joe grinned at Kaitlyn. "We'll find it!" And maybe, he added silently, maybe we'll just give that jerk a punch in the nose, too! Joe tended to solve things with his fists more often than his brother did.
The girl smiled a bit. "Thanks, guys, I hope you guys find it. Even if I can't go on the trip, my mom and dad wouldn't like someone else having one of their money orders. They had to pay for it."
Frank nodded. "Tomorrow, we'll start our investigation!" Investigation was a term that the boys had recently learned the definition of, and Frank liked to use it as often as possible. Even Joe had to admit, it had a really cool sound to it. Kids solved mysteries, but real detectives conducted investigations!
The next day, Frank and Joe arrived at school a little earlier than usual. Joe would not be able to do a whole lot, as he was a grade below Frank, and of course they were in separate classes. Frank had just turned eleven, and Joe was two months away from being ten, but the boys were bright and rather ahead of themselves in school.
Joe did intend to be there when Frank was asking people about the slip. Frank made him promise to be quiet and not accuse everyone in sight, and the younger boy had reluctantly agreed.
The morning's results weren't all too encouraging. No one had seen anything, except one boy who had seen Colin hanging around the fence before coming to play. But whether it was the same place Kaitlyn's backpack had been, he couldn't remember.
The two Hardy brothers separated for class, and Joe made Frank promise that he would tell him anything he learned after school. Frank promised.
During recess, Frank continued his questioning, and found out something very interesting; Kaitlyn had been responsible for Colin being forbidden from participating in the school carnival earlier that spring. Frank remembered that incident, as it had ended up being a holy temper tantrum in the middle of the library, but had not known what the cause of it was. Someone had been writing nasty words in all the library books, and they couldn't figure out who it was. Kaitlyn had caught Colin in the act, and told the librarian, who had then confronted the boy. Needless to say, the principal was told, Colin was given detention, and banned from the carnival. This, Frank reasoned, might just be motive enough for him to steal Kaitlyn's trip money and permission slip.
"He said he'd get her back for it," the girl who gave the information told him solemnly. "She was afraid he was gonna beat her up for a while, but he didn't. What a chickenguts. I mean not that I want her beat up or anything."
Before recess ended, Frank spoke quietly to his teacher. He explained the whole situation, and what he had found out, and told her that he wanted to search Colin's desk. It took a bit of persuading, but Mrs. Hillford finally agreed, so long as she was present, and the pair went inside the school to their classroom. Mrs. Hillford unlocked the deserted classroom, and Frank headed directly for Colin's desk.
Colin's desk was a nightmare; and Frank had thought that his brother was messy! Joe was a neatnik compared to this kid. He frowned as he searched the desk, thinking that he just might not find what he wanted in there. But just as he was about to give up, he spotted a bit of powder-blue paper way down at the bottom, and drew it out triumphantly. It was one of the envelopes that the kids had been given to put their checks and permission slips in – and it had Kaitlyn's name on it! "Found it!" he said, grinning, as he showed his teacher what he'd found.
Mrs. Hillford frowned slowly as she took the envelope, and uncrumpled it. It was empty. "I wonder what he could have done with the check," she murmured. "Rather, money order."
"He can't spend it, can he?" Frank asked. "I mean it's got the school's name on it, right?"
"Actually it should be addressed to the campground, but no, Colin cannot spend it. I believe that we need to call him in here for a little conference. Him and young Miss Kaitlyn."
Frank nodded seriously, and then asked, "Can my brother be here? I mean he's probably in P.E. right now, but he did help me with the case, I know he'd really want to be here." The boy gave Mrs. Hillford a hopeful look, and she finally relented.
"All right," she said, going to her desk and scribbling a quick note to the P.E. teacher. "Give this to Mr. Cutter, and you two hurry back, got it?"
"Yep!" Frank took the note and hurried off.
Very soon, the two boys stood in the principal's office, with Mrs. Hillford, Ms. Hancock (the principal), Kaitlyn, and Colin. And Colin was demanding that Frank prove his case.
The adults seemed willing enough for Frank to present his evidence, and he did so, counting off the things that had tipped him off. One, Colin had been seen hanging around the edge of the playground before school the day that the envelope was stolen, and Kaitlyn had left her bag on the edge of the playground while she played. Two, Colin said he'd get her back for telling on him about the library books that he wrote in with pen."
Colin's face was red with anger, and he took a step forward, his fists clenched. Joe Hardy scowled, his own fists clenched, ready to deck the boy if he took a swing. "So?" he demanded. "You still can't prove I took anything!"
"I'm not done," said Frank, a hint of impatience in his voice. He didn't like to be interrupted. "I searched your desk during recess –"
"You searched my desk?" Colin growled incredulously. "That's my desk, you can't do that, you're not supposed to touch other people's desks!"
"He had permission, you jerk!" Joe said before Frank could reply.
"Joe." The principal's quiet voice broke into the argument.
Joe scowled, but he shut up, and backed down for the time being.
"You're right," Frank agreed. "But I did have permission. I told Mrs. Hillford everything, and she let me look in your desk." He was tempted to tell Colin what a pig he was, but in front of the teachers he thought might be an unwise idea. "And look what I found!" He looked up at Mrs. Hillford, who held up the crumpled up envelope.
Kaitlyn made a noise that might have been anger or frustration. She was looking at Colin with an expression of mingled hurt and outrage.
Ms. Hancock looked at it for a moment, then turned to look at Colin, who looked like he might be about to cry. "Why?" she asked him quietly.
Colin didn't answer him. He stepped up in Frank's face, his pupils dilated with fury. "I hate you, Frank, you're such a suck-up! You're always tattling on people an' buttin' in, you – "
The Hardy boys' eyes widened as Colin spat the word. The "a"-hole word. It wasn't as if they had never heard one of the kids cussing before, but he did it right in front of the principal! And she wasn't entirely happy about it. "Colin Grant!" Ms. Hancock stood, looking her sternest. "That is enough! I will be calling your parents, and explain to them that their money will be refunded for the camping trip, as you will not be going on it."
Colin looked at the woman in sheer disbelief. "But-but that's not fair!"
Kaitlyn gaped at the boy for a moment. "I would've had to stay home if Frank didn't find who took my check!" she cried.
"So what?" Colin growled.
As the principal sorted out the argument, Mrs. Hillford turned to Frank and sighed somewhat wearily. "Good work Frank, and Joe. Why don't you go on back to class, all right? We'll get it handled from here."
Frank nodded. "Okay. Thanks. Will Kaitlyn be able to go on the trip?"
The teacher smiled. "I'm sure it will be recovered today, the money order, that is. And that makes it only a day late. She will be able to go on the trip."
Frank grinned, pleased. "Cool! Come on Joe."
The two boys left the principal's office, congratulated each other briefly on their success, and then headed off to class.
That night at supper, Frank and Joe told their parents about the case. Fenton nodded. "So did they find the money order, then?" he asked.
Frank nodded. "Yeah, Kaitlyn told me after school. It was in his backpack. So was the permission slip."
Fenton smiled. "That's good, then she'll be able to go, after all?"
Frank nodded again., "Yep! And Colin doesn't get to go at all."
"That sounds very fair to me," Fenton said. "You two are getting good at this, you know."
Both boys looked pleased, although Joe's expression was half cockiness. "Thanks," Frank said.
There was a sniff of disdain from the other side of the table. Fenton's sister, Gertrude, sat there, looking disapproving. "I still think it's a bad idea to let these boys play at being detectives," she said. "Searching a boy's desk, indeed. That's the teacher's job, not the child's job!"
Frank's pleased expression faded at this belittlement, and he looked down at his food. Joe, on the other hand, openly scowled. A curt hand gesture from their mother prevented the younger Hardy brother from speaking, but it was clear he was angry.
Fenton's tone was quiet. "They're not playing, Gertrude," he said. "They like helping people, and Frank did nothing without his teacher's permission. Please drop the subject."
Aunt Gertrude's lips thinned until they seemed to disappear, but she said no more.
Gertrude had not been living with the Hardys for long. Never married, she had, until recently, lived alone. But an accident in her home that had injured her legs, leaving her unable to reach a phone for two days had worried the Hardys enough that they convinced her to move in with them. Their home was plenty large enough, and that was what family was there for, right? To help?
And so in the middle of winter, she had moved in. Unfortunately, she was extremely old-fashioned, which seemed odd in this day and age, and she had a sharp tongue. Things were far tenser in the household with her there. Fenton had assured everyone that things would settle down, and everyone would adjust, but he could see his boys and Laura had their doubts.
After dinner, the boys slunk upstairs to the room they shared, which was in the attic. They had not been very old when they begged to make their room in the attic, and to their parents surprise, they had not wanted separate rooms. It was a full attic, after all, and plenty large enough for two people to share. And so they allowed it, and the boys had slept there since. The two bedrooms on the floor below were used for storage, instead.
Joe walked over to his hammock and climbed in, frowning. "I hate her, how come she has to stay here?" he sulked. It was a question he often asked as of late.
Frank shrugged. "Dad says she really loved us, it's just that she thinks being all stern and stuff'll make us 'good boys'..."
"But we're not bad!" Joe protested. He was hurt, Frank realized. Hurt along with the anger radiated from his words.
"I know that. I guess she thinks all boys are bad, or something, I dunno. Dad said she shoulda been born a hundred years before she really was."
"Yeah," Joe said. "Then she wouldn't be here now. She acts like a really old lady from the olden days."
The boys were silent for a few moments, simply commiserating.
Frank finally selected a book from the boys' bookcase, and settled into his own bed. Unlike Joe, he preferred a real bed. "I'm glad Dad doesn't do that," he said, staring down at the closed book.
"Do what?"
"You know, what Aunt Gertrude did. Act like we're pretending. You know, not taking us seriously."
Joe nodded. "Yeah, I hate that. Makes me feel dumb or...you know, babyish."
"Yeah." Frank sighed huffily, got up, and replaced the book, and simply stared gloomily into the warm attic air.
He always liked the attic. He could come up here any time and feel safe and secure. The wood tones of the walls, the high pointed ceiling, the warmth of the room... After a few moments, he felt his anger beginning to ebb, and finally he shrugged. "Oh well. It doesn't matter what she said, we're still good detectives. And Dad says so, and he's the detective, not Aunt Gertrude."
"Yeah, I guess so." Joe's tone was still not happy, but it was not quite so miserable as before.