Back in Bayport, Joe was getting used to his new surroundings. He didn't see Frank again until lunch time, when they were allowed to sit together, because of Joe's injury.

"Joe!" Frank shouted, seeing Joe come into the lunch room. Frank left his table and went to help Joe with his lunch tray. He carried the tray back to his table and set it beside his own, then helped Joe to sit down.

"Joe, this is Biff, Tony, Phil and Chet." Frank introduced his brother-to-be to his friends.

Biff Hooper was eight-years-old, and stout from having taken steroids the previous year, to combat an illness. He was blond, with green eyes, and he had decided he wanted to be a boxer like his cousin Biff. He asked all his friends to call him Biff, although his real name was Allen. Tony Prito was a seven-year-old boy of Italian descent, with dark hair and eyes, and an engaging grin.

Phil Cohen, a tall, slender boy with thick sandy brown hair and hazel eyes, was eight-years-old and new to Bayport, having moved to the city with his parents at the start of the school year.

Blond Chet Morton, age seven, obviously enjoyed eating. He observed Joe, between bites of macaroni and cheese, with interested brown eyes. "Are you really Frank's new brother?" he asked.

"I will be." Joe admitted, a bit shyly.

"Great! The dweeb gets a twerp for a brother." sneered Ike Detweiler from a nearby table. Ike was nine years old, with brown hair and blue eyes, and was known to be a bully.

"Get lost, Ike." Frank said, with a tone in his voice, which took his friends by surprise.

"Stow it, Hardy." Ike retorted, grabbing the apple from Joe's tray. "I just want to make the brat welcome."

Frank stood up and got in Ike's face, his eyes unblinking as he stared into Ike's. "Give it back and apologize." Frank said in a deceptively calm tone.

"What are you?" Ike demanded. "His mother?"

Frank reached out and snatched the apple, handing it to Joe before Ike could so much as blink.

"You'll pay for that!" Ike snarled, shoving Frank.

Joe's eyes went wide in fear but Frank lifted his foot and kicked Ike in the shin. Then he poked him hard in the chest. "You leave Joe alone, or else." he warned.

"Or else what?" Ike demanded, laughing. "You'll poke me again?"

"No," Frank replied, seriously. "I'll wipe the floor with you."

"You mean little Joey can't fight his own battles?" Ike mocked.

"I mean, as long as he's my brother, he won't have to." Frank stated firmly. Ike locked gazes with Frank for a moment, then abruptly turned and walked away.

"All right, Frank!" whooped Biff, Tony and Chet. Phil grinned his approval. Joe stared at Frank with something akin to hero-worship in his blue eyes.

"Let's eat." Frank suggested, sitting back down and applying himself to his lunch. The other boys followed his example.

"You have Mrs. McIntyre, don't you?" Biff asked Joe, as they ate. Joe nodded. "I had her last year. She talks funny."

"Yeah, she does," Joe agreed, grinning. "She says funny sses."

"Ah, that's nothing. That crazy woman told my parents I needed speech lessons. She said I couldn't talk plain," Chet complained, shaking his head.

"What did your parents say?" Frank asked. He hadn't heard this before.

"They took me to see her and to find out about getting lessons, but when she started talking to them, they changed their minds." Chet stopped and laughed. "Mom told Dad in the car on the way home that the only person who needed help talking was Mrs. McIntyre. And I got switched to Miss Richards' class."

Tony nodded. "I heard she tries to get at least one student a year to have speech lessons."

"Wonder who she is going to pick on this year," Frank said.

All too soon, in Joe's opinion, lunch was over and Frank stood up with his friends. "Are you finished eating?" he asked Joe.

"Yes." he replied.

"I'll take your tray with mine, then." Frank offered. "I'll see you later." he added, piling Joe's tray on top of his own and leaving with the other boys.

Joe watched them depart, feeling suddenly lonely. A young girl from his own class came over and sat down beside him. "Hi," she said, a bit shyly. "My name is Callie Shaw. How did you get to know so many older kids your first day here?" she asked, her brown eyes questioning, as she brushed back a strand of blond hair from her face.

"Frank is going to be my brother." Joe told her, giving her a half smile.

"What do you mean, going to be?" Callie demanded. "Either he is your brother or he isn't."

"I'm being adopted." Joe informed her proudly.

"Wow!" Callie said, awestruck. "I've never known a 'dopted kid before. Are you and Frank going to be real brothers for good?"

Joe nodded. "He's going to be my big brother," he said with pride.

"You're lucky!" Callie said. "I wouldn't mind having Frank for a big brother."

"I know," Joe agreed, nodding. "Frank is the greatest!"

Back in Burnsville, Fenton had donned the borrowed sweat suit, and made his way to the courtyard for his initiation - for that was what it was. No use calling it something it isn'! he thought. Billy was there ahead of him.

Billy didn't wait for Fenton to ready himself for the attack. He leapt at Fenton, knocking him off balance, and the two tumbled to the ground. Wrapping his strong arms around Billy's neck, Fenton used his left hand to force Billy's head back by applying pressure to his nose. He swung his left leg and pushed him into the ground, gaining the upper hand.

Billy raised his foot and kicked at Fenton's face, but Fenton was ready, and grabbed the foot before contact had been made. Billy rolled over, pulling Fenton with him and gaining the upper hand. His plan was to subdue Fenton with sheer physical strength, but Fenton trapped Billy's arm, and pushing it back, forced him off-balance. Rolling over while hanging onto one of Billy's arms, Fenton managed to reverse their positions. But, unlike Billy, he did not count on his strength to beat his opponent. He immediately pushed Billy onto his side, and grasping his shoulder, used his elbow to push into Billy's throat, cutting off his breath.

"Okay, that's enough." Wood's voice interrupted the fracas. "For someone so small, you're a formidable foe." he congratulated Fenton. "Of course, I mean 'small' in relation to Billy," he added, for Fenton matched his own six-foot-two height; Billy, however, outweighed both of them by approximately 100 pounds!

"Thank you, sir." Fenton said. His breathing was already returning to normal, and he stood up and offered Billy a hand up. Billy accepted the help, and once on his feet, shook Fenton's hand.

"No hard feelings, King." he said. "This was business, nothing personal." Fenton nodded, indicating he understood.

"Would you care for a tour of the house?" Wood asked, as they left the courtyard, preceded by Billy.

"Yes, sir." Fenton said formally, secretly delighted at this opportunity.

Wood escorted Fenton through each room of the house, starting on the first floor and then going upstairs. One room in particular piqued the investigator's interest. On the second floor, the room was much as the others were, save the fact that there was nothing in it to make it welcoming or attractive to an occupant.

This room had no pictures on the walls and no pillow on the bed. The closet held three small pairs of pants and three shirts, nothing more. The bathroom was small, but had all the amenities befitting a house of this magnitude; however, there were no towels, and the tub had a few stains in it. Managing to inspect it more closely, Fenton decided they were bloodstains. He was positive that this was Joe's room.

The final stop was the room, which would be Fenton's own. Wood departed, instructing his new personal assistant to get his things, unpack, and settle in. Fenton obediently went to his car, retrieved his suitcase, and began to unpack...all the while, wondering how Joe's first day of school had gone.

Laura smiled, delighted, as she watched Joe from the doorway of his classroom. She was overjoyed to see that he was chatting with a blond-haired girl, and seemed to be having a good time.

"Joe, your mom is here." Mrs. McIntyre called to him.

Joe looked at his teacher, then at the door, where he saw Laura waiting for him. He smiled, grabbed his crutches, and hobbled over to her.

"Hi, Baby." she said, bending down to give him a hug. "How was your first day?"

"It was fun." he answered her. "I got to have lunch with Frank." Joe added with a grin.

"That's wonderful," she said, ruffling his blond hair. "Let's get Frank and go home, huh?" she suggested.

Joe nodded, and started back to get his backpack, but the little girl had already picked it up and brought it over.

"Here you go." Callie said, handing the book bag to Laura.

"Why, thank you." Laura said, smiling at her.

"Yeah, thanks, Callie." Joe echoed. "See ya tomorrow."

They walked down the hall to Frank's room. When he noticed them, he grabbed his backpack and came running.

"Frank," Mr. Kincaid said sternly. "We do not run in school, except in P.E."

"Yes, Mr. Kincaid." Frank said, looking back apologetically. "Sorry....Bye."

"I'll see you in the morning." Mr. Kincaid said, as Frank left with a wave.

Once again at home, Laura led the boys to the kitchen and fixed them a snack. When they had finished eating, she told them they could play for a bit before starting on their homework. She carried Joe upstairs, while Frank carried the crutches, then left them to their play while she went to do some cleaning in hers and Fenton's bedroom.

"Where is Dad?" Joe asked Frank, once Laura had gone.

"He's probably working." Frank replied with a shrug.

"What does he do?" Joe inquired.

"He's a private investigator." Frank answered proudly.

"What's a private 'vestigator?" Joe wanted to know, his blue eyes shining with curiosity.

"He sees what bad guys do, and takes them to jail." Frank informed him.

"That sounds dangerous." Joe commented. His face puckered into a worried frown, and he began to breathe heavily.

Frank looked quickly at Joe, and realized he was becoming upset. He ran out of the room in search of his mother. "Mom! Joe needs you!" he shouted, running into her bedroom.

Laura followed Frank down the hall and into the boys' room. "Honey, what's wrong?" she asked, sitting down beside Joe and taking him in her arms.

"Where's Dad?" he demanded. "Is he okay?"

"He's working on a case." she told him. "He'll be home in a day or two."

"What's he doing?" Joe persisted.

"He's working on solving a mystery." Laura told him...but she didn't say what the mystery was. She realized that if Joe knew, he would be even more upset.

"Can he get hurt?" Joe wanted to know.

"It's possible." Laura replied truthfully. "But he is very good at what he does, and he knows what he can and can't do." she added. "Dad will be very careful," she promised him. "You don't have to-"

Laura was interrupted by a loud, persistent knocking on the front door. "I'd better go see who that is." she said. "You two stay put." she added, giving Frank a stern look.

She went downstairs and opened the front door, but when she saw who was standing there, her face went white, and she clutched the edge of the door for support.